Hermione held back a groan as she heaved herself off of the bathroom floor, hand gently caressing the ever-growing swell of her stomach. It was moments like this, little slices of normalcy in an otherwise hell-scape, that she lived for. Sighing after a moment, she picked up the gauze bandage nearby and set about wrapping her stomach. Her’s wasn’t the first pregnancy to take place since the world went to shit five years ago, but it would be the most high profile... and dangerous. Which was really saying something because Hannah had been on the front lines for the first few months of her pregnancy. But then she was just a medic. She went in after people were already down. Not like Hermione, who as a General had to see battle if called upon. When they’d found out Tonks and Fleur were pregnant they’d been sidelined right away and unable to contribute anything more than plans and strategies for the duration. And that was before the fighting had even gotten too bad.
The outbreak had initially taken place during the fall semester of her sixth year, and no one was the wiser until the muggle-born parents started to send messages of concern. The dead were rising from the ground all over, and though governments around the world tried their best it was quickly becoming clear that they were on the losing side of this war. In the beginning, no one quite understood how bad it was. The teachers did their best to shield the students, incorrectly believing that the problem would be resolved by the Yule break. And when that didn’t happen, and the murmurs got louder in the halls about what was really going on, they merely hinted at a problem with the muggle world that was keeping the students at Hogwarts for the holidays. By May everyone knew. And everyone had seen the carnage that was befalling the world outside of their academic haven. Their studies were put on pause and instead those old enough to fight started to train with the refugees from Hogsmead and Diagonalley on how to kill the walking undead. As a muggle-born who grew up with zombies in media and books, Hermione had wrongfully assumed that simply aiming for the head would be all it took to stop the reanimated corpses. Instead, as they learned the hard way, you had to completely obliterate the body. A Bombarda Maxima or a Confringo were the only things they’d found so far that worked. Seamus had tried to set them on fire once, but that had only made them angry. And on fire. After that, they all tried not to experiment much, and just used what they knew would work.
The school gradually became one of the only safe places left in the wizarding world (at least on the European continent. Beauxbatons had been strong for a couple of years but ultimately became overrun. Durmstrang was still holding out but they didn’t accept anyone inside their walls who wasn’t there from the start.) Wizarding families who lived nearby or had children who had attended flocked in by the dozens for the protection charms and wards the castle had. But everyone who arrived was given a purpose. If you couldn’t fulfil it you were sent on to the next safe house with no guarantee that it would remain so. As an older student (and one who was exceptional at learning new things (if she did say so herself)) Hermione quickly rose through the army ranks to the standing of General. Harry was right there with her, though while she was better at strategy, he took point on execution and was constantly in battle. Ron, when he’d still been alive, was right at his side. Surprisingly, some of their best warriors were the Slytherins. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were out fighting to the west and south respectively right now. And Pansy Parkinson worked closely with Luna as their resident medics. Neville and Ginny were recently back with Daphne Greengrass and Theo Nott from their scouting expeditions. Neville and Daphne were in charge of finding the ever-dwindling plants and potion ingredients for the medical wing and those on the front lines, while Theo and Ginny searched for new safe houses, supplies, and survivors. All of which were getting fewer and farther as the war dragged on. And that’s what this was now; a war. They were fighting to stay alive, fighting for the loved ones they’d lost, and fighting for the future they hoped to obtain.
Hermione clutched the necklace around her neck and after a few moments smiled softly in relief as she felt the heartbeats resonate through the Protean Charms on the different pendants. She’d been unable to get to her parents when the school started to take in refugees so she’d sent an owl with a pendant for each of them and an explanation that they would heat up when touched by another wearer. This way they would know each other were still alive. She hadn’t communicated with them in two and a half years, so this was the only comfort she had in knowing they were still alive. She’d given one to her lover as well when they’d secretly married a year ago. His parents, Ginny, and General McGonagall were the only people who knew about their relationship. Mione had felt, and he’d agreed, that it was best to keep it quiet until the fighting got less intense. Or they’d be unable to fight together when they were both needed. Mione felt a little bad that she’d created something for her peace of mind but hadn’t done anything for anyone else's but she was constantly reminding herself that they didn’t have the time or the items for her to sit down and make one for everyone in the castle. She’d created one, in the beginning, for Harry, one for each of the remaining Weasley’s, and one for her Mother and Father-in-law. She rubbed her stomach softly at the thought of her beloved. Their relationship had been so wrought with hatred at the beginning, it was one of the only reasons she was glad the undead had started to cause problems for the world. Without that catalyst that had brought the school together in unity, she’d never have been able to see the good in him. Or the other friends that had been gained in the fighting.
She looked up to see Ginny enter their private bathroom (the school had put some of the older refugees who couldn’t fight and were rubbish at cooking or healing to work on the building. They turned the old dorms into apartment-style living for everyone. It was still mostly communal but now they only shared with a couple of people instead of a whole house of students.) Gin’ smiled gently before gesturing to the gauze in Mione’s hand.
“Mind if I help? I need a distraction.” The redhead asked softly. She’d just returned from a supply run that had resulted in two cans of beans, a package of flour, and a severely wounded Theo. They’d been found by a hoard two days into their journey and had to aparate back before the dirty-blond bled out. Hermione nodded softly and handed over the gauze that she’d been using. Ginny’s hand’s replaced Mione’s own as they wrapped around her expanded mid-section. Ginny was one of only three people who knew about her pregnancy since she’d found Hermione on the floor passed out from exhaustion and dehydration when she’d been only two months along. She’d called Luna and Mione’s mother-in-law in to help. When they’d gotten the girl up and full of fluids, the cause of her sickness came to light. Mione and Ginny had had a slightly strained relationship since Hermione had refused to abort her child, but Ginny was slowly losing her battle to stay unattached. It was dangerous to have attachments in this new world because it was another way to hurt should something happen. She’d already lost her father, Ron, and Percy in the battle against the zombies. And her husband was constantly out fighting. She and Hermione worried more than anyone that Harry’s reckless nature would cause them to lose him, but if anything he seemed more clear-headed on the battlefield. “You know, this isn’t going to work much longer.” Hermione eyed her friend in the mirror with a frown.
“I know. It just... It has too. I can’t be taken off duty. Not yet. Not while he’s-”
“I know,” Ginny replied with a worried smile. Mione’s husband had been out fighting since August. And it was now February. At least with Harry, Ginny knew when to expect her husband home. He would be on the frontlines for three months and then come home for three months. Most of the soldiers took shifts like this in some form; a few weeks or months out fighting, and then back to safety for a few weeks or months to regroup and get some therapy, or medical aid, or warm home-cooked meals. The Hoard Destroyer’s (as Mione’s husband’s brigade had been dubbed) were away for no one knew how long at a time. Last time he’d been gone for two months and then home for six. But the time before that he’d been gone for nearly a year and home for only three weeks. They were the strongest of the soldiers, sent in to deal with the more problematic hoards of zombies causing problems. There were seven of them in the group and each one was a capable and qualified soldier in their own right that served a specific purpose on the team. Fred and George Weasley had skills from their Quidditch days to be effective in hand to hand combat and the genius to be able to create potions and spells on the fly as they were needed. Cho Chang was steady-handed and slight enough to be useful as a medic that could work undetected by the undead. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Parvati Patil, and Cedric Diggory were swift at drawing their wands and had gotten amazing at non-verbal spells. And their leader, Draco Malfoy, was confident and smart with his strategy (in part thanks to Hermione’s plans and training) and strong with his wand work and spells. Now that Hermione was seven months pregnant, however, she really didn’t give a shit that they were all so talented and working to protect another group of survivors. She wanted them to come back so she could stop worrying and know that her husband was safe. She wanted to be able to stop wrapping her stomach (tight enough to hide most of it behind slightly baggier clothing, but loose enough so as not to hurt her unborn baby). She wanted to get off of her swollen, aching feet. She wanted to be able to feel uncomfortable and amazing and all the other things she should be feeling as her pregnancy moved along that she couldn’t focus on right now because she was too busy preparing strategies, and routes, and battle plans, and everything in between while she worried about her brother and her husband out on the front lines. When he came home, she would tell him about their child (and subsequently tell General McGonagall and Captain Tonks). And she would finally be able to rest, mind at ease, and see this pregnancy through to the end without worrying about her child’s father every second of the day.
“We have work to do,” Hermione said casually with a shrug as Ginny tucked in the last of the gauze. The women strayed into their adjacent bedroom (they always shared until the men came home) to get dressed. Ginny pulled on some dark jeans and a heavy long-sleeve shirt with her combat boots before yanking a beanie over her pixie-cut hair. Hermione stepped into a pair of tennis shoes (with some assistance from her friend) after yanking on some jeans of her own and a quidditch t-shirt she’d filched from her husband’s closet that she wore under one of Harry’s jackets. She checked herself in the closet mirror, and although she looked like she’d gained some weight in her gut and breasts, thankfully she couldn’t tell she was pregnant. As the sun rose outside of the windows of Hogwarts the girls made their way to what had once been the library that now housed the centre of their operations.
• • • • • • • • • • • •
“Our men and woman out there fighting cannot continue to do so without the help of more provisions!” Captain Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin shouted as she argued with Lieutenant Flitwick.
“I understand that, but we do not have the resources to spare! Our hospital wing is overrun with refugees and soldiers alike. We have more people to feed now than we did when we promised those additional provisions.” He argued back.
“Poppy, Pomona, what do we have that we can spare for our troops?” General McGonagall asked the woman in charge of supplies with a worried pinch to her face.
“The garden is low on everything right now. This winter is hitting us hard and even with fertilizing spells and warming charms around the greenhouses we don’t have enough to cover the infirmary until spring.” Commander Sprout reported disappointedly.
“Our stores are nearly empty. Severus has not yet returned from his negotiations with Karkaroff so we have no idea if we’ll have the new supplies or not. The kitchens are low too. Since the scouts have had to go farther and farther to find ingredients and the elves cannot defend themselves properly, it is too unsafe to send them out again. Captain Nott nearly lost his leg, and Sergeant Potter-”
“Is more than capable of travelling on her own for supplies.” Ginny interrupted the older woman.
“Cannot go out by herself. I will remind you once more Sergeant that it was your own Mother who implemented that rule after too many casualties. I’m sorry Minerva, we just don’t have the supplies to spare.” Major Pomfrey finished. General McGonagall had a pensive look on her face and shared a glance with Hermione to see her thoughts on the subject. The girl thought about it carefully, weighing the pros and cons of each argument. On the one hand, with all the people in the castle, they barely had enough supplies to go around. The students (as this was still a school for those too young to go to battle) and the elderly refugees were the only ones who were guaranteed two small meals a day. Everyone else was granted dinner and only ate lunch if they were injured. And even the meals they did eat consisted of tinned vegetables and fruit, and a slice or two of cured meat. They had been able to have fresh meat for Christmas when one of the Acromentula’s had died close to the castle but that was a rarity. It wasn’t safe to go out and hunt when the undead roamed the Forbidden Forest. As it was they had to resort to locking up Professor Lupin and the three other werewolves housed in the castle during the full moons because they couldn’t spare the life-saving ingredients for mere wolfsbane potions and they couldn’t go searching for more outside of the greenhouse. They’d raided the Forbidden Forest and most of the forest’s within 300 kilometres from the castle already before they’d been overrun. All of the stores in Hogsmeade had been picked clean years ago, and anything that might have been safe to walk to and be back by nightfall was long gone. On the other hand, their soldiers were what was keeping them safe. The only reason Hogwarts still stood intact and with the people still whole and living within her. Surely they could come to some sort of solution.
“How many rations are they requesting, Captain?” Hermione addressed Tonks.
“They are requesting enough provisions for another month and a half. The men are nearly empty already. As of now, Lieutenant Zabini’s troops are only eating once every other day. And Sergeant Bill Weasley and his troops are running on fumes as well. We have not heard from the Hoard Destroyers yet but given the state of the other battalions, it’s safe to say they are in need of supplies as well.” Hermione swallowed thickly at the news that they had once again not heard from her Husband’s group. They hadn’t heard from the soldiers in nearly two months and if it weren’t for her necklace she’d have no idea if he was still alive or not. She shook her head softly and sipped from her water glass (the only thing they had in abundance thanks to the Aguamenti charm) thinking.
“Major Pomfrey, when will we be able to use Captain Nott once more?” Hermione questioned.
“His leg was mangled nearly beyond repair when he arrived, General Granger. We’ve managed to get it to look as it should but it will be at least a week before he can walk again. Longer if he won’t stay in bed as he’s been instructed.” She grumbled. “And we don’t know how long after that it will be safe to send him out again.”
“Lieutenant Flitwick, you have been training Lee Jordan and Astoria Greengrass for scouting, correct?”
“Yes, but Mr Jordan was recently injured in battle so he is in the infirmary as well. Ms Greengrass could potentially partner with Sergeant Potter for a brief time while Captain Nott heals, but she’s still having trouble identifying safe plants and working the Muffliato on non-human objects.” Flitwick answered her, knowing she was asking to find a new partner for Ginny.
“Commander Sprout, how many plants are currently growing in your greenhouse?”
“Of our 128 planted, we have 46 growing. And two of those have a fungus currently so they are unusable until Sergeant Longbottom and myself can cure them.”
“How many crops are used for medical purposes and how many for food?”
“We use 24 of them for supplies and 22 for nourishment.” Hermione thought for another minute, doing the calculations in her head.
“I propose we send half of the requested amount of supplies,” Hermione said as the room turned to chaos. She watched boredly as the adults who she’d once thought of as infallible squabbled over rations. “Listen!” She shouted to gain their attention. “Our troops are the only thing keeping our operation here running. Without them, we do not know where it is safe to send our scouts. Without them, we do not have the ability to communicate with other pockets of survivors. And without them, we would have already been overrun by the undead. They need our supplies more than we do sitting here and doing nothing more than planning their next moves. We cannot afford to send what they are asking for. That much is clear. However, we cannot send nothing. Sending half allows us to buy time for Theo to heal while Ginny and the Greengrass sisters look for emergency supplies or communicate with Corporal Snape to plead once more for Durmstrang’s help. We will have to stretch supplies where we can. Major, I know that the injured need more nourishment than the rest of us to regain their strength but we can cut back and give only those hanging on by a thread or in dire need of sustenance the extra meals. We can lower our own intake as well. I know we are already surviving on the bare minimum but we can alternate days of vegetables and fruits. We can give slightly less to the younger groups. We should be back to regular portions before it affects their growth. The only thing we will have a real problem parting from is our medical supplies. Major Pomfrey and Captain Tonks can go over the list of requested supplies and see what is absolutely unable to be sent and what we can spare. If we must we can turn more of the bedsheets into bandages or make more basic versions of potions. Yes, it will be slightly less sterile and slower to heal them but it’s better than nothing. I think this is an excellent compromise, General?”
“I think it’s the best we can do with the circumstances.” General McGonagall nodded.
• • • • • • • • • • • •
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen people so angry about rations,” Hermione said as she and Ginny took a seat in the great hall.
“Everyone is already always hungry, I would be angry too if I hadn’t been in the meeting,” Ginny commented as she took a bite. “I understand why we don’t share everything with them all, but I still think this is something they deserve to know.”
“And what should we say? ‘Sorry, we can’t give you the measly portions you’re used to because we need to send food to the people fighting for our safety but we don’t have enough for ourselves let alone them’?” Hermione replied sarcastically in a hushed tone.
“Well, when you put it like that.” Ginny sighed. “It’s so frustrating that magic can create water and fire and can blow shit up, and all kinds of other stuff, but it can’t make more food.” The redhead bit into a slice of bread angrily as she shoved half of her peas onto Hermione’s plate.
“Gin,” The brunette said with a sigh.
“Mione.” The red-head replied sarcastically with a pointed look at her stomach. Every day Ginny shared what she could of her food with Hermione, and every day Hermione felt undeserving. Why should she get more when others went hungry? Because she was pregnant, was what Ginny argued. Which, yes she did need more calories but she could make do without. She would have to. It was unfair to the others if she ate more than her fill. Especially poor Ginny who was already a twig. “It’s already on your plate. If you put it back on mine I’ll throw it out.” Ginny threatened, knowing Hermione wouldn’t risk the food being thrown out when someone could eat it. “Besides you know I hate peas.”
• • • • • • • • • • • •
“General, they’ve broken through our outer perimeter!” Hermione jolted awake in her chair. She’d been looking over the strategy for the southern units. There was supposedly a pocket of unaffected islands in the Mediterranean where they could potentially gain support and supplies. It was a major ‘If’ and unlikely to actually exist as a safe haven (as the last two “unaffected” areas had turned out to be) but it was something they couldn’t afford not to try. The problem was that there were quite a few large cities between the soldiers and the islands. All major cities had been overrun within the first year of the virus so they were hot-spots for the undead to congregate and turn into hoards. She looked over to the open door where she could see people running around madly. She rushed out and followed the people running towards the doors to fight; pushing through the elderly, the young, and the disabled who were heading deeper into the castle for safety. She drew her wand as she neared the inner barrier that surrounded the outer courtyard and bridge between Hogwarts and the outside world. Already she could see where the zombie hoard had broken past the wards that surrounded the Forbidden Forest and the lake. This had only happened once before in the years since the outbreak had first appeared. That had been a massacre. They’d been unprepared, hadn’t thought it was possible for them to get through the wards. They’d had to play defence for three days straight, fighting in shifts through windows and doors while they tried to pick off the walking dead while pushing the hoard out of the barriers once more. They’d lost many good people in that fight (Arthur, Percy, Dumbledore, and Moody had been fighting at the front gates when they’d been overrun, and Lavender Brown and Padma Patil had been overtaken where they’d been helping in the garden before anyone had been alerted to the problem. And those were just the people she’d considered herself somewhat close to, it didn’t come close to the nearly one hundred and fifty people they’d lost over those few days). She pulled in a tight breath through shaky lungs and set a hand on her stomach, praying to whatever god or deity that was out there and would listen that she’d make it out of this with her child unharmed.
“Kill the undead, and don’t die trying!” She called out, hearing people echo her all over the grounds. It had become their motto over the years, it came down to protecting yourself and protecting those you love. Don’t put yourself in a position to have to choose or make others choose between the two. She knew she was putting herself in that very position but reasoned it was okay since her husband wasn’t here to have to make that choice. It was one of the reasons the spouse rule had been implemented. You couldn’t fight with your spouse on the battlefield because you became each other's liability. McGonagall had only let it slide this long because Mione and her husband rarely had to fight together since he was out so often and she stayed behind to protect Hogwarts normally. She only went out if another leader was down and she didn’t stay longer than was necessary (even when she wasn’t pregnant). She could tell the exact moment the inner barrier fell, could smell the rotting flesh of the corpses as they rushed forward. Growing up she’d always imagined they’d be slow and uncoordinated since they didn’t have conscious thoughts; just basic instinct to feast on living flesh. But this wasn’t a book or an old movie she was watching with her mum and dad. This was real and in front of her. They were fast and dangerous like a starved bear set loose in an all you could eat salmon buffet. She took out three to the left of the bridge with one Bombarda before rushing to the other side of the courtyard to try and help some of the medical team who were trying to pull an unconscious boy inside. She cast a weightlessness charm on his body as she ran. “Go, get him out of here!” She yelled as she neared them before running back towards the other side to draw attention away from them. She found Ginny and Molly fighting back to back in front of the footpath to Hagrid’s hut. The half-giant had taken up residence in the castle when it became too unsafe to live on his own between the inner and outer barriers and wasn’t currently fighting because he was learning how to use his wand again. He’d be graduating in a year or so but until he could control his blast radius it was too risky to have him out fighting. Especially since he was such a big target. She continued running until she came upon Dean Thomas who was down with a biter on top of him. He was barely holding it off of himself and more were coming up towards him. “Bombarda Maxima!” She shouted as she ran towards him, breaking the zombie into large chunks of meat.
“Thanks!” Dean shouted as he got off the floor. She stood next to him in front of the castle wall as they began throwing off spells towards the reanimated corpses that were coming towards them. The battle raged on for twenty minutes before she felt a sharp pain in her side. She doubled over instinctively. “Hermione, what’s wrong?” Dean called out, concerned next to her as he continued to try and push back the oncoming hoard. She pulled her hand away from her side and noticed a piece of the castle’s inner steel wiring sticking through her stomach. She pushed down the bile that was rising in her throat and forced herself not to faint at the sight or the feeling of pain.
“I’m fine.” She told him, voice cracking in agony as she did so. “Don’t worry about it, just keep pushing them back!” Her side felt like it was on fire yet freezing simultaneously and she cast a quick sticking charm to make sure it didn’t dislodge inside of her stomach or get jostled out of place. She couldn’t afford to lose blood from an open wound, especially not surrounded by flesh-eating corpses. Just like she couldn’t afford to think about the possibility that she’d just lost her baby before she’d even gotten a chance to hold him or her. As they fought her pain intensified and her vision began to waver slightly, darker around the edges than it should be. Her shots were losing their power as well. Where once she’d been hitting three or four of the bastards at a time, now her spells were only hitting one or two in a go. She took a moment to breathe in deep (as painful as it was, she knew it would help steady her somewhat). She blinked back her tears and let out a tight breath before drawing her wand once more.
“The Hoard Destroyer’s are back!” A voice rang out among the sounds of explosions and moaning zombies. Hermione looked towards the bridge, sparing a moment of precious time to find the new arrivals. She locked eyes on the piercing grey of her husband and felt a slight weight raise off of her chest as he looked uninjured. She turned back to her own fight in time to see a zombie mere feet from her. She blew it up, but it had been too close. The blast shoved her backwards into the wall. She screamed out in agony as the back of the steel inside of her curved into her more.
“Hermione!” She heard three voices call out simultaneously. She grit her teeth, pushing the agony from her mind as best as she could as she continued to fight.
“Bombarda Maxima!” A nearby voice shouted, throwing out a spell big enough to take out twenty zombies in front of her. She looked up to see her husband running towards her, mere feet away.
“Draco?” She called out in confusion, hadn’t he just been on the other side of the courtyard.
“Hermione, I’m here. I’m here.” He caressed her face softly as the fighting continued around them. They shared a chaste kiss before turning back to the battle. The fighting continued for another hour before the barriers were able to be put back into place. There were still handfuls of the undead milling about the grounds between the barriers and a few of them feasting on the dead while the living picked them off one by one. With the adrenaline leaving her body, Hermione swayed where she stood. “Mione?” Draco asked her shocked, and scared, as he finally noticed her injury. “Mione!” She felt his hands around her waist as her vision went dark and her head went fuzzy, plunging her into unconscious oblivion.
• • • • • • • • • • • •
“Nearly lost-”
“Best for-”
“Hermione?”
“Don’t get attached.”
“Stupid to try and-”
“Mione?”
“Why wouldn’t she-”
“I don’t understand-”
“Mione?”
The voices flashed in and out as though she were hearing segments of different channels. Nothing was strung coherently and she couldn’t make out who was saying what. She was tired. Her head hurt and she felt like she was on fire. But more than anything she was tired.
• • • • • • • • • • • •
When she came too the room was bathed in candlelight, and a hunched figure sat in the chair next to her, shoulders shaking slightly and platinum hair catching silver rays of light as it swayed with its owner.
“Draco?” Hermione called softly, voice cracking in a way that told her she’d been out for a while. His head snapped up in an instant and his stormy eyes, brimmed in tears that tracked his cheeks, met her own eyes with pain, anger, and relief. He moved forward, careful not to jostle her too much as he helped her sit up and brought a cup of water to her mouth.
“Do not ever scare me like that again. Do you understand me?” He commanded her, in the dominant voice he normally reserved for when they were alone in their bedroom. It left no room for argument or discussion. “I was terrified I’d lost you, do not ever- don’t ever-” He broke, sobbing softly into her shoulder.
“My love. It’s ok. I’m alive. You’re here. You’re alive. Everything is ok.” She murmured softly, moving to pet a hand through his soft yet tangled hair. Her hand stopped after a second when a little more consciousness came back to her. She grasped her stomach where the steel had gone through her. “My b- call- call Major Pomfrey!” She let out in a hoarse cry, tears spilling over her eyes as terror and heartache filled her entire being.
“Darling? Darling, what’s wrong?” Draco demanded as he pulled back to look her over for further injury. “Madam Pomfrey!” He called out, reverting back to the matron’s old, pre-war title. The older witch came running.
“What is it, what’s wrong?” She asked as she swiftly approached the bed.
“I’m- my-” Hermione started to hyperventilate. “Did I lose it? Did I lose it?” She sobbed incoherently.
“What? Lose what? Mione, what are you talking about?” Draco asked his wife as he held tightly to her shoulders, looking her over.
“Mr Malfoy, you need to leave. I need to look Ms Granger over, immediately.” The Healer said with a knowing glint in her eye.
“Her name is Malfoy, we’re married. You can ask McGonagall or my parents if you don’t believe me, now tell me what is going on!” Draco demanded as his sobbing wife held onto his torn and bloody shirt. Pomfrey looked sceptical but didn’t push as she cast a diagnostic spell. Suddenly a loud thwumping sound filled the room and Hermione gasped in surprise at the noise before her tears renewed, no longer in grief but in relief. “What is that noise? Someone, please tell me what’s going on!”
“I didn’t lose it. It’s still here.” Hermione sobbed with a smile on her face. “Thank God and thank Merlin. It’s still here.”
“What is still here? Darling, you’re not making any sense.” Draco demanded softly.
“Draco, I’m pregnant.” Hermione proclaimed with a smile on her teary-eyed face. His face went blank but she was too happy to care. She could fight him on whatever he wanted to argue about or yell at her about later. Right now, she was alive. Her child was alive. And her love was home and safe. Her husband stood slowly before ripping back the sheets on her bed, scaring the Healer slightly. He reached out, fingers lingering just far enough away from his wife's bandages that only air could pass between them before he gently started peeling them back.
“Mr Malfoy, she needs to heal, you cannot remove-” Major Pomfrey told him in disapproval.
“I need to see. I need to see for my own eyes.” He replied.
“It’s true My Dragon.” Hermione and Draco turned to see Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy standing in the curtained doorway by their bed.
“Narcissa? You knew about this?”
“Mother?” Lucius and Draco demanded of the woman. Father in wonderment and slight anger at not being told. Son in confusion.
“Shortly after you left, Mrs Potter sent her Patronus to Ms Lovegood while I was with her asking for help because Mione had fainted in the bathroom.” Draco levelled his wife with a glare at finding out so long after the fact and she averted her eyes bashfully at being found out for her illness. “I performed the diagnoses necessary to rule out major illness and pregnancy. And the latter turned out to be the cause.” Draco looked back at his wife, expression still guarded as he continued to pull back the bandages while his father and mother quietly discussed their impending Grandparent status. He gasped slightly as the bandage fell away, leaving Hermione’s protruding stomach visible to the world. She gently cradled it, looking down at her unborn child with adoration. He reached out as though approaching a stray dog, afraid to spook it away, similarly afraid it may not be there. Tears gathered in his eyes as he looked up into his wife's face. Her tears had dried up some and she had a hopeful look in her eyes.
“How far along are you?” He whispered out.
“She is eight months and sixteen days,” Madam Pomfrey provided.
“Are you... happy, my love?” Hermione asked tentatively as the Matron of the medical ward began reapplying her bandages. Instead of answering her, Draco stood upright and moved from the side of her bed to the top near her head. He leaned down and gently took her mouth with his own. They kissed for a minute before coming up breathless and resting their foreheads against one another.
“We’re having a baby.” He said with a small, giddy smile on his face. “My wife is pregnant with my child.” He looked awed and Hermione chuckled at the goofy expression on her husband's face. “We are going to talk about you rushing into a hoard of zombies eight months pregnant when I’m less happy.” He warned, still smiling. She giggled in reply.
“We’re having a baby.” She told him once more, happy to finally say it out loud.
• • • • • • • • • • • •
“Push, Mrs Malfoy, push! Your child is almost out,” Hermione let out a scream as she bore down once more. The baby was already crowning and she felt as though she was splitting in two.
“You are never touching me again! You hear me! I’m going to hex your fucking dick off, Malfoy!” She panted between contractions as she crushed the bones in her husband’s hand.
“Yes, you’ve said that darling.” He said between clenched teeth as he tried not to moan in pain as she squeezed his fingers.
“Oh, owwwww, ahhh-” She started screaming again as the contraction came back.
“Push, push!” Madam Pomfrey commanded as the young woman did her best to give birth. Finally, after twenty-seven hours of labour, the piercing sound of a baby's cry broke the air. Hermione panted as Draco looked on in awe at the sight of his newborn son.
“It’s a boy. It’s a boy.” He told his wife in wonder, watching as Luna Lovegood took the baby away to check its vitals and clean him off. Hermione smiled softly before tightening in pain again.
“Owww-” She cried out, her body telling her to push again. Draco turned to his wife, startled.
“What’s going on? The baby's out, why is she still in pain?” He asked, concerned eyes darting between his panting wife and their crying newborn. The midwives started murmuring to themselves as Hermione rode out yet another contraction.
“It appears there was more than one child. You’re going to have to push again, Hermione.” Madam Pomfrey told them calmly as the others hurriedly attempted to try and get more supplies ready.
“What?” Draco cried out, unprepared for the news.
“I can’t. I can’t!” Hermione wailed as her body collapsed against the bed, exhausted and rippling with shockwaves of agony.
“Yes, you can, Mrs Malfoy. You’ve already got one baby out, you can do this.” Twenty minutes later Hermione finally pushed out their other child. Her eyes and her husbands immediately moved towards their silent secondborn.
“Why isn’t it crying, Draco? Why isn’t it crying?” Mione asked, starting to panic.
“Everything is fine, she’s just a quiet babe.” Madam Pomfrey assured the new parents quickly.
“She?” Draco asked in devout fascination. “We have a daughter?”
“She’s okay?” Hermione begged, once more.
“Both of your children are just fine, Hermione,” Luna replied as she laid the children on their mother. Draco softly cupped the back of the baby closest to him as the birthing team began cleaning up and readying to deliver the placenta.
“We’re a family.” He whispered, staring adoringly at his children.
“We’re a family.” Hermione echoed back weepily, as the couple shared a soft kiss.
• • • • • • • • • • • •
“Mummy, mummy! Read us a bedtime story, please!”
“No, I want Daddy to tell us a story!” Hermione smiled as her children climbed into bed, their soft bickering echoing around the room.
“How about Mummy and Daddy tell you a story together?” Draco appeased his children, tucking in his son while his wife tucked in their daughter. She smoothed back the curly, pale blonde hair on her child’s head and kissed her forehead.
“How does that sound, Carina?” The little girl's chocolate brown eyes moved up to her mothers loving face as she nodded in excitement. The parents switched beds to say goodnight to their other child and begin the story. Hermione smoothed out the chestnut waves on her son’s head and kissed his forehead as well. “Once upon a time, there were three brothers travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight.” She began as her son’s pale grey eyes stared in fascination where she spoke. “They came upon a wide and treacherous river. All those who attempted to cross this river previously had perished in its swift, icy water. The brothers, being adept at the magical arts, conjured a bridge with their wands to help them cross safely. Halfway across the bridge, a hooded figure stood before them.”
“Death!” The boy cried out in excitement.
“That’s right, Orion, it was death!” Hermione chuckled as she tickled her son. “Death was not happy. Normally, he was given the souls of the people who drowned in the river but the brothers had not died. So he could not claim their souls as he had intended. But Death was cunning. He told the brothers that they had outsmarted him, and so deserved a prize. Anything they wished for he would gift them.”
“What did they ask for?” Carina asked quietly, as though she hadn’t heard this story numerous times before in her young, four-year-old life.
“The eldest brother, he was an angry and combative man. He asked for a wand more powerful than any other wand in existence.” Draco continued, stroking his daughter's hair softly. “Death pulled a branch off of an elder tree standing near the river and gave it to the man, who walked away in possession of the most powerful wand in existence.”
“The second brother,” Hermione chimed in, “Was an arrogant man. He wanted to humiliate death even more than he already was, and asked for the power to recall the deceased from the grave. Death crafted a resurrection stone from a smooth, round rock at the bottom of the river. The man smiled in triumph before walking off.”
“The final brother was humble and wise. When Death asked him what he wanted, he asked for something that would let him leave the river without Death being able to follow him. Reluctantly, Death handed over a piece of his own cloak that would allow the wearer to be invisible from him. The final brother bowed to Death in respect before donning the cloak and walking away.”
“Then what happened?” Orion asked with a sleepy yawn.
“The eldest brother travelled to a village where a wizard whom he had once quarrelled lived and sought the man out for a duel. The wand granted the brother immense power and his rival was instantly killed. Thinking himself untouchable, the man left his enemy lying dead on the floor and walked to an inn not far from the duelling sight where he drank himself to sleep. That night, a wicked wizard who’d seen the duel from the sidelines crept into the eldest brother’s room and murdered him. Stealing the wand and a few coins as he fled. Death came and claimed the first brother’s soul shortly after the wizard was gone.” Hermione told the children.
“The second brother returned to his home where he lived alone since his beloved fiance had passed on. Turning the stone from Death three times, the figure of the girl appeared once more before him. He was delighted and rushed to hold his love. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him by the veil between the living and the dead. She was there but her soul, the piece of her that made her, her was not. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and because of this, she suffered immense pain. Finally, the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, committed suicide so as to truly join her. And Death appeared to take the second brother’s soul for his own.” Draco said dramatically.
"Years and years passed, and the youngest brother evaded Death. Death searched high and low, yet because of the cloak he’d bestowed upon the brother, he could not find him. Finally, when the third brother reached a great age, he took off the cloak of invisibility and passed it on to his son. Finally ready for what comes next, he turned and greeted Death as an old friend. Embracing him as an equal.” Hermione finished. They kissed their children’s heads gently and got up to leave the room.
“One more story Mummy?” Orion called out tiredly.
“You’ve had a busy day, buddy.” Draco chuckled. “Grandmother and Grandfather said you played for hours without a nap. If you don’t sleep now, you won’t be able to go by Nana Molly’s and play with James, Teddy, Victoire, and Dominique tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Daddy. Goodnight, Mummy.” Carina called out.
“Night, Mummy and Daddy.” Orion mimicked.
“Goodnight, my treasures. I love you.” Hermione said softly as she shuttered the candle lights.
“Goodnight children. I love you.” Draco added before following his wife out into the main room of their hut. Four years ago, shortly after their children’s birth, Blaise Zabini’s soldiers managed to find the islands in the Mediterranean that were rumoured to be free of the undead. They weren’t completely free of Zombies but it took less than a day and a half to clear them out and begin to relocate everyone from Hogwarts to their new homes on the ‘Aljanat Alamna’ or Safe-Paradise Islands. The relocations were sent in shifts that spanned five months, and each journey was perilous. They’d lost Astoria Greengrass and Oliver Wood from the group they travelled in, and Ernie MacMillan and Penelope Clearwater from Ginny and Harry’s group. But here they were finally safe. And Hermione had managed to find her parents on her and Draco’s trip here. They’d been shocked and overjoyed to finally see not only their daughter but the son-in-law and grandchildren they didn’t know existed. They hadn’t seen a zombie in three and a half years. And while they were always wary and constantly double-checking the wards around the island, they finally felt like they were home.
• • • • • • • • • • • •
Hermione and Draco curled up on their loveseat, picking up their nightly reading material.
“Have you...” Hermione started, trailing off.
“What is it darling?” Draco asked, absently flipping to the next page as he stroked his wife’s leg comfortingly.
“Have you ever considered having another baby?” She asked him softly. He froze for a moment before looking at his wife.
“Is this because Potter and Ginny are having a second?” He asked her cautiously. Her face fell slightly.
“Not entirely no. I just... The children are growing up. They aren’t babies anymore Draco. They start Nursery School in a few months. And I don’t know, I just don’t feel like I’m ready to let them go. I have more love to give. My love, I want another baby with you. If that’s what you want, too.” He stared at her for a few moments before a brilliant smile broke his face, causing his eyes to crinkle softly in the corners showing the age he’d gained in battle.
“I would love to have another baby with you, darling.” He said, grabbing her softly and pushing her onto her back on the loveseat. “What do you think about starting tonight?” He growled softly, nibbling the skin below her ear sensually.
“Well, that was another part of the reason I wanted to talk to you.” She giggled as she pushed his head up, softly carding her fingers in his shaggy hair. “We don’t actually have to make another one.” He stared at her for a few moments before realisation hit his eyes and his smile grew.
“You mean we’re already...?”
“I’m pregnant.” She giggled to her husband. He broke out into laughter and pulled her into a tight hug.
“I love you, Hermione.” He told her as he caressed her face, eyes flickering between her lips and her unchanged stomach.
“I love you, Draco.” She told him adoration and love seeping through her voice.