All in the Family: Chapter Nine
Title: All in the Family (9/?)
Rating: R (or M for mature)
Genre: Humor, romance, a hint of drama
Pairing(s): Draco/Harry, Draco/Hermione (implied), Ginny/Luna (implied)
Warning: While mostly canon-compliant, this fic boldly and blatantly ignores that the epilogue ever happened.
Summary: "I think, first of all, we shouldn't tell anyone. And secondly, we shouldn't talk about it. Most importantly, it's probably just a good idea if we pretend it never happened."
Something happened between Draco and Hermione, something that never should have even been considered . . .
Reviews accepted and appreciated. Feedback is love!
Draco tapped his fingers against his pantlegs in bored agitation. Hermione was upstairs in her old bedroom, apparently rooting around for something to "cover up" what she didn't want her parents to see right away. She'd pointed to the couch before escaping up the staircase, silently indicating that Draco was to wait there. Harry, however, had rocketed up the stairs right behind her, and he could occasionally hear the two of them gabbing over the state of her wardrobe and trying to determine the most flattering way to cover her tummy. Why she'd chosen Harry for this and not Draco was completely beyond him.
Her parents weren't home, but they would be quite soon. Despite himself, Draco was nervous about being the first thing they see: He was almost certain that even Muggles didn't take kindly to random strangers in their homes. He looked around again, his quaint amusement at their Muggle appliances wearing off. The television set was nothing new to him, of course, but the other items corded to the walls were new and vaguely interesting: the thing that looked sort of like a telly without the screen, the shaded metal poles with little pull-chains, the merry-go-round on the ceiling.
Oh, Merlin, finally, he thought when he heard the two of them thundering down the stairs, Hermione in a Bohemian-style skirt and lumpy sweater, Harry looking handsome in his washed-out jeans and faded T-shirt. Draco gave a sigh of relief. "What took you so long?" he groused, but it was without heart. He was just relieved to have company in the unfamiliar and empty house.
"I just couldn't find anything that looked right! I haven't even gained all that much, but nothing fits anymore," Hermione said dejectedly, looking down at her belly and sighing.Harry slung his arm around her in a comforting gesture. "Don't be like that. You don't look so bad."
"And you've got bigger things to worry about," Draco added darkly, although he secretly agreed that she was growing at what he considered an alarming rate. "Your parents will be here any minute."
"Oh, God, don't remind me," she moaned, flopping down on the couch with a dramatic flair. Draco smiled a little on the inside: Hermione had adopted some of his theatrics.
The lock turned and they froze. Hermione shot upright and attempted to smooth her sweater before realizing that smoothing it was exactly the wrong thing to do.
"Hi, Mum! Hullo, Dad!" she said in an overly-cheerful tone, smiling brightly at her parents, who appeared more than a little confused and quite alarmed.
"Hermione?" her mother said, reaching out for her daughter instinctively. She looked sharply at the two men in her living room, immediately asking, "Who're they?"
"Mum, Dad, you remember Harry Potter, don't you? You met him when we were still at school."
Hermione's father shook Harry's hand, nodding curtly and smiling briefly. "How d'you do?"
Harry nodded in reply, apparently not trusting himself to speak just yet.
"And this is Draco Malfoy, a friend of H - ours," she quickly amended, deciding that it was important to appear as though all three of them were great friends.
"Draco, that's an interesting name," her father noted as he shook his hand, too.
"Old Wizarding name, runs in the family," Draco replied, trusting that they at least knew something of wizards, considering. He furtively wiped his hand against the back of his pantleg.
They stood in an awkward silence for a moment. The pleasantries exchanged, surely her parents would want to know why their daughter and two male wizards were standing, uninvited, in their living room.
Draco knew Hermione had planned a great, long speech about how life was funny and gave you lessons to learn and how they must surely be longing for a grandbaby, and wouldn't it be funny if their family grew to be one of the great Wizarding families generations down the line? And yet, despite everything she'd plan to say (some of it ridiculous and irrelevant, Draco thought, but he knew nothing about talking to Muggles), she simply blurted out, "I'm pregnant."
They stared at her in disbelief, all four of them. She raised her hands to her mouth, as though trying to shovel the words back in, and whispered, "Oops."
"You're what?!" her father exploded, staring at her in disbelief and anger. "What do you mean, you're pregnant?! I don't remember giving you away!" His eye caught Harry and Draco, and his rage seemed to increase exponentially. "Which one of you did it?" he demanded. "Which one of you ruined my daughter's life? Oh, God," he wailed, looking like he'd been hit with a sack of Hagrid's rock cakes, "It was both of you, wasn't it? And she's not sure whose it properly belongs to, huh? That's why she brought both of you."
"Don't be ridiculous, Gerald," her mother snapped, hugging her daughter to her side and glaring at her husband, "of course she knows who the father is."
Draco stared from one parent to the other (Gerald? He hadn't known Hermione's father's name) and winced inwardly at the raw emotion on their faces. "Um, perhaps it's best if we go now . . . " he said in a small voice, making a small movement for the door.
"You're not going anywhere! You stay right there, young man, do you hear me?" Gerald Granger barked, his voice breaking slightly. It was clear that this level of frustration and disappointment in their daughter was completely new for the Grangers. She'd probably never even brought home a boy, Draco realized, let alone come home with two of them and proclaiming an advanced pregnancy.
"Relax, Gerry, relax. They're not going to just run off," her mother soothed, and then glowered at the two wary boys in her living room. "Are you?"
"No, ma'am," they both whispered, shuffling their feet awkwardly and looking at each other.
"Mum, I know who the father is, there's no question about that," Hermione said. It was obvious to Draco that she was in shock: Her face was pale and her eyes had a slightly glazed look. Even her voice was much more meek than usual.
"Who, sweetie?" her mother coaxed, stroking her daughter's hair. "It's very important that you tell us, you know."
Hermione swallowed hard. "I know, Mum, it's just . . . " she trailed off, staring at a portrait (a stationary one, Draco noticed, which was very boring in his opinion) of herself and her parents as a young family. She looked up at Draco, apparently confused. "What was I saying? I'm sorry, I just . . . I keep getting this ache."
"An ache? Where?" her mother asked, suddenly very focused and concerned about Hermione.
"In my back . . . and the lower part of my stomach," came the distant reply.
"Sit down, Hermione, for Heaven's sake," her father insisted, helping his daughter to the couch.
"I'll get her a glass of water," Harry offered, bounding off to the kitchen.
Lucky bastard, Draco thought.
"Hermione, just how far along are you?" her mother asked in a much softer and kinder voice than she'd used so far.
"Only six months, it can't be labor," Hermione replied. Harry handed her the water and she drank it thankfully. "Oh, that's a bit better."
"It was probably Braxton-Hicks," Gerald said knowledgeably. "Your mother had them all the time before you were born." He sat down next to his daughter, stroking her hand. "I'm sorry we were so harsh with you," he said apologetically.
"It's me," Draco blurted out, surprising even himself.
"What about you?" Hermione said scornfully, probably suspecting that Draco was trying to steal her moment. "Oh," she realized, adding, "yes, it is."
"You, what?" Gerald asked stupidly, before it fully sunk in for him. "Oh! You, huh? I suspected as much, Hermione prefers a more dignified man."
"Hmph," Harry muttered, but it was a fairly good natured mutter. There was no way to argue that his family was a more distinguished one than Draco's.
"Harry, do you mind if we maybe have a minute with Hermione and Draco?" Hermione's mother asked gently, directing him towards the kitchen. Harry nodded and left.
Hermione's mother sat down next to her daughter and held her hand. "Tell me what your plans are," she said, reminding Draco strangely of his own mother for a brief moment.
"Well," Hermione said, clearly not sure how to answer, "we're going to raise her."
"Oh, so, it's a girl?" Gerald asked excitedly. "Did you hear that, Theresa? It's a girl!"
"We don't know for sure," Draco was quick to add, "Hermione just has this feeling."
"Ah, dreams, I bet," her father said knowingly. Hermione nodded her confirmation.
"Sweetie, we do need to know what you're going to do, though," Theresa said, gently guiding the conversation back on course.
Draco looked at Hermione, sensing her nervousness, and spoke for the both of them, "We're going to do the best we can to be parents to our child. Other than that, we haven't really thought about much."
"Are you gainfully employed? Do you plan to marry? What will you do, Hermione, after the baby's born? Will you continue your work with the Ministry? Where will you live?" Gerald fired off his questions, making Draco's head spin.
"I'm not currently employed, no," Draco replied, "but I have a small sum of money to my name and Harry's full support." He looked at Hermione, whose eyes were silently begging him to leave it be at that. The truth was too heavy a burden for him, whatever she might think would be best, and he said the dreaded words, "I don't plan to marry your daughter."
"You'll marry her right now, young man!" Gerald blustered. "You'll march up to the courthouse and give that child your name!"
"I can't do that," Draco stated plainly.
"And why not?"
"Because I'm gay."
The silence that followed was almost welcoming, but it was so awkward and deadening that Draco doubted anything good could come from it.
"You're what?" Both of Hermione's parents exploded at once, jumping to their feet and staring at him incredulously.
"How in God's name are you gay when you're the father of her baby?" Gerald practically screamed.
Harry poked his head in from the kitchen, took one look at the murderous glare in Gerald's eyes, and scurried back to the table.
"It's complicated," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It wasn't intentional."
"Of course not, sweetheart," Theresa cooed. Clearly her anger was directly solely at her grandchild's father. "We know you didn't mean for this to happen."
"Well, what about me?" Draco demanded. His temper was hard to provoke these days, but provoked he was, and angry. "Like I knew she was ovulating! I didn't even know what was happening!"
"How could you not know what was happening?" Theresa asked. Both of her parents seemed to be utterly confused and at the end of their ropes with this sudden turn of events.
"We were drunk," he said calmly, trying vainly to get his own anger and frustration under control. "Look, this isn't ideal for any of us, obviously. But it is what it is, and I suggest that you do what you can to make the best of it. Being upset with me isn't going to stop your grandchild's coming, nor will it serve you any purpose, now or ever. She's pregnant, it's my fault, we're going to raise the child with the resources that we have. That's all there is to it."
He turned to the kitchen and said loudly, "I think we're done here."
Harry came out, sensing Draco's distress, and wrapped a comforting arm around him. "You should be ashamed of yourselves, you know," Harry said. "A family is about much more than married parents. Hell, if that's what you think a perfect family is, you should meet my aunt and uncle. I'm sure you'd get on great with them. Hermione's baby has two parents, who don't love each other but love their child, and she'll have a great extended family, too, including her Uncle Harry." He looked at Draco with love in his eyes and reiterated, "Yeah, that's right. Her Uncle Harry. Don't think you can get by raising a child without me!"
Draco grinned. "I hadn't planned on it."
Hermione stood up, too, looking a bit more like her old self (albeit quite a swollen version of her old self). "If you love me and you love your grandbaby, you'll let this go now. I know you'll need time for this to sink in, I know it's big news, but you can't stop it now. I hope the next time we see you you're feeling more amenable to the situation, because if you're not then I guess she'll just have to go without grandparents."
And with that, leaving her parents utterly flabbergasted and speechless, they left together.
Draco chuckled, which set off a fit of laughter as they walked down the path to the sidewalk. "I think that went rather well, don't you?"
They all agreed that it had.
Chapter Ten
Chapter Nine
Rating: R (or M for mature)
Genre: Humor, romance, a hint of drama
Pairing(s): Draco/Harry, Draco/Hermione (implied), Ginny/Luna (implied)
Warning: While mostly canon-compliant, this fic boldly and blatantly ignores that the epilogue ever happened.
Summary: "I think, first of all, we shouldn't tell anyone. And secondly, we shouldn't talk about it. Most importantly, it's probably just a good idea if we pretend it never happened."
Something happened between Draco and Hermione, something that never should have even been considered . . .
Reviews accepted and appreciated. Feedback is love!
Draco tapped his fingers against his pantlegs in bored agitation. Hermione was upstairs in her old bedroom, apparently rooting around for something to "cover up" what she didn't want her parents to see right away. She'd pointed to the couch before escaping up the staircase, silently indicating that Draco was to wait there. Harry, however, had rocketed up the stairs right behind her, and he could occasionally hear the two of them gabbing over the state of her wardrobe and trying to determine the most flattering way to cover her tummy. Why she'd chosen Harry for this and not Draco was completely beyond him.
Her parents weren't home, but they would be quite soon. Despite himself, Draco was nervous about being the first thing they see: He was almost certain that even Muggles didn't take kindly to random strangers in their homes. He looked around again, his quaint amusement at their Muggle appliances wearing off. The television set was nothing new to him, of course, but the other items corded to the walls were new and vaguely interesting: the thing that looked sort of like a telly without the screen, the shaded metal poles with little pull-chains, the merry-go-round on the ceiling.
Oh, Merlin, finally, he thought when he heard the two of them thundering down the stairs, Hermione in a Bohemian-style skirt and lumpy sweater, Harry looking handsome in his washed-out jeans and faded T-shirt. Draco gave a sigh of relief. "What took you so long?" he groused, but it was without heart. He was just relieved to have company in the unfamiliar and empty house.
"I just couldn't find anything that looked right! I haven't even gained all that much, but nothing fits anymore," Hermione said dejectedly, looking down at her belly and sighing.Harry slung his arm around her in a comforting gesture. "Don't be like that. You don't look so bad."
"And you've got bigger things to worry about," Draco added darkly, although he secretly agreed that she was growing at what he considered an alarming rate. "Your parents will be here any minute."
"Oh, God, don't remind me," she moaned, flopping down on the couch with a dramatic flair. Draco smiled a little on the inside: Hermione had adopted some of his theatrics.
The lock turned and they froze. Hermione shot upright and attempted to smooth her sweater before realizing that smoothing it was exactly the wrong thing to do.
"Hi, Mum! Hullo, Dad!" she said in an overly-cheerful tone, smiling brightly at her parents, who appeared more than a little confused and quite alarmed.
"Hermione?" her mother said, reaching out for her daughter instinctively. She looked sharply at the two men in her living room, immediately asking, "Who're they?"
"Mum, Dad, you remember Harry Potter, don't you? You met him when we were still at school."
Hermione's father shook Harry's hand, nodding curtly and smiling briefly. "How d'you do?"
Harry nodded in reply, apparently not trusting himself to speak just yet.
"And this is Draco Malfoy, a friend of H - ours," she quickly amended, deciding that it was important to appear as though all three of them were great friends.
"Draco, that's an interesting name," her father noted as he shook his hand, too.
"Old Wizarding name, runs in the family," Draco replied, trusting that they at least knew something of wizards, considering. He furtively wiped his hand against the back of his pantleg.
They stood in an awkward silence for a moment. The pleasantries exchanged, surely her parents would want to know why their daughter and two male wizards were standing, uninvited, in their living room.
Draco knew Hermione had planned a great, long speech about how life was funny and gave you lessons to learn and how they must surely be longing for a grandbaby, and wouldn't it be funny if their family grew to be one of the great Wizarding families generations down the line? And yet, despite everything she'd plan to say (some of it ridiculous and irrelevant, Draco thought, but he knew nothing about talking to Muggles), she simply blurted out, "I'm pregnant."
They stared at her in disbelief, all four of them. She raised her hands to her mouth, as though trying to shovel the words back in, and whispered, "Oops."
"You're what?!" her father exploded, staring at her in disbelief and anger. "What do you mean, you're pregnant?! I don't remember giving you away!" His eye caught Harry and Draco, and his rage seemed to increase exponentially. "Which one of you did it?" he demanded. "Which one of you ruined my daughter's life? Oh, God," he wailed, looking like he'd been hit with a sack of Hagrid's rock cakes, "It was both of you, wasn't it? And she's not sure whose it properly belongs to, huh? That's why she brought both of you."
"Don't be ridiculous, Gerald," her mother snapped, hugging her daughter to her side and glaring at her husband, "of course she knows who the father is."
Draco stared from one parent to the other (Gerald? He hadn't known Hermione's father's name) and winced inwardly at the raw emotion on their faces. "Um, perhaps it's best if we go now . . . " he said in a small voice, making a small movement for the door.
"You're not going anywhere! You stay right there, young man, do you hear me?" Gerald Granger barked, his voice breaking slightly. It was clear that this level of frustration and disappointment in their daughter was completely new for the Grangers. She'd probably never even brought home a boy, Draco realized, let alone come home with two of them and proclaiming an advanced pregnancy.
"Relax, Gerry, relax. They're not going to just run off," her mother soothed, and then glowered at the two wary boys in her living room. "Are you?"
"No, ma'am," they both whispered, shuffling their feet awkwardly and looking at each other.
"Mum, I know who the father is, there's no question about that," Hermione said. It was obvious to Draco that she was in shock: Her face was pale and her eyes had a slightly glazed look. Even her voice was much more meek than usual.
"Who, sweetie?" her mother coaxed, stroking her daughter's hair. "It's very important that you tell us, you know."
Hermione swallowed hard. "I know, Mum, it's just . . . " she trailed off, staring at a portrait (a stationary one, Draco noticed, which was very boring in his opinion) of herself and her parents as a young family. She looked up at Draco, apparently confused. "What was I saying? I'm sorry, I just . . . I keep getting this ache."
"An ache? Where?" her mother asked, suddenly very focused and concerned about Hermione.
"In my back . . . and the lower part of my stomach," came the distant reply.
"Sit down, Hermione, for Heaven's sake," her father insisted, helping his daughter to the couch.
"I'll get her a glass of water," Harry offered, bounding off to the kitchen.
Lucky bastard, Draco thought.
"Hermione, just how far along are you?" her mother asked in a much softer and kinder voice than she'd used so far.
"Only six months, it can't be labor," Hermione replied. Harry handed her the water and she drank it thankfully. "Oh, that's a bit better."
"It was probably Braxton-Hicks," Gerald said knowledgeably. "Your mother had them all the time before you were born." He sat down next to his daughter, stroking her hand. "I'm sorry we were so harsh with you," he said apologetically.
"It's me," Draco blurted out, surprising even himself.
"What about you?" Hermione said scornfully, probably suspecting that Draco was trying to steal her moment. "Oh," she realized, adding, "yes, it is."
"You, what?" Gerald asked stupidly, before it fully sunk in for him. "Oh! You, huh? I suspected as much, Hermione prefers a more dignified man."
"Hmph," Harry muttered, but it was a fairly good natured mutter. There was no way to argue that his family was a more distinguished one than Draco's.
"Harry, do you mind if we maybe have a minute with Hermione and Draco?" Hermione's mother asked gently, directing him towards the kitchen. Harry nodded and left.
Hermione's mother sat down next to her daughter and held her hand. "Tell me what your plans are," she said, reminding Draco strangely of his own mother for a brief moment.
"Well," Hermione said, clearly not sure how to answer, "we're going to raise her."
"Oh, so, it's a girl?" Gerald asked excitedly. "Did you hear that, Theresa? It's a girl!"
"We don't know for sure," Draco was quick to add, "Hermione just has this feeling."
"Ah, dreams, I bet," her father said knowingly. Hermione nodded her confirmation.
"Sweetie, we do need to know what you're going to do, though," Theresa said, gently guiding the conversation back on course.
Draco looked at Hermione, sensing her nervousness, and spoke for the both of them, "We're going to do the best we can to be parents to our child. Other than that, we haven't really thought about much."
"Are you gainfully employed? Do you plan to marry? What will you do, Hermione, after the baby's born? Will you continue your work with the Ministry? Where will you live?" Gerald fired off his questions, making Draco's head spin.
"I'm not currently employed, no," Draco replied, "but I have a small sum of money to my name and Harry's full support." He looked at Hermione, whose eyes were silently begging him to leave it be at that. The truth was too heavy a burden for him, whatever she might think would be best, and he said the dreaded words, "I don't plan to marry your daughter."
"You'll marry her right now, young man!" Gerald blustered. "You'll march up to the courthouse and give that child your name!"
"I can't do that," Draco stated plainly.
"And why not?"
"Because I'm gay."
The silence that followed was almost welcoming, but it was so awkward and deadening that Draco doubted anything good could come from it.
"You're what?" Both of Hermione's parents exploded at once, jumping to their feet and staring at him incredulously.
"How in God's name are you gay when you're the father of her baby?" Gerald practically screamed.
Harry poked his head in from the kitchen, took one look at the murderous glare in Gerald's eyes, and scurried back to the table.
"It's complicated," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It wasn't intentional."
"Of course not, sweetheart," Theresa cooed. Clearly her anger was directly solely at her grandchild's father. "We know you didn't mean for this to happen."
"Well, what about me?" Draco demanded. His temper was hard to provoke these days, but provoked he was, and angry. "Like I knew she was ovulating! I didn't even know what was happening!"
"How could you not know what was happening?" Theresa asked. Both of her parents seemed to be utterly confused and at the end of their ropes with this sudden turn of events.
"We were drunk," he said calmly, trying vainly to get his own anger and frustration under control. "Look, this isn't ideal for any of us, obviously. But it is what it is, and I suggest that you do what you can to make the best of it. Being upset with me isn't going to stop your grandchild's coming, nor will it serve you any purpose, now or ever. She's pregnant, it's my fault, we're going to raise the child with the resources that we have. That's all there is to it."
He turned to the kitchen and said loudly, "I think we're done here."
Harry came out, sensing Draco's distress, and wrapped a comforting arm around him. "You should be ashamed of yourselves, you know," Harry said. "A family is about much more than married parents. Hell, if that's what you think a perfect family is, you should meet my aunt and uncle. I'm sure you'd get on great with them. Hermione's baby has two parents, who don't love each other but love their child, and she'll have a great extended family, too, including her Uncle Harry." He looked at Draco with love in his eyes and reiterated, "Yeah, that's right. Her Uncle Harry. Don't think you can get by raising a child without me!"
Draco grinned. "I hadn't planned on it."
Hermione stood up, too, looking a bit more like her old self (albeit quite a swollen version of her old self). "If you love me and you love your grandbaby, you'll let this go now. I know you'll need time for this to sink in, I know it's big news, but you can't stop it now. I hope the next time we see you you're feeling more amenable to the situation, because if you're not then I guess she'll just have to go without grandparents."
And with that, leaving her parents utterly flabbergasted and speechless, they left together.
Draco chuckled, which set off a fit of laughter as they walked down the path to the sidewalk. "I think that went rather well, don't you?"
They all agreed that it had.
Chapter Ten
Chapter Nine