Luck Comes In Threes, Draco/Hermione -- The Sequel
So guess what? Due to insane popular demand, people on Lumos and Coloured Grey, as well as others who wandered over here from dramionewanted a sequel to Thank God I'm Not A Bridesmaid. So here goes it. I hope you like it. I'm kind of entertained by it myself. Haha.
Title: Luck Comes In Threes
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Pairing: Hermione/Draco
Categories: Humour, AU
Summary: The only thing that would redeem this wedding would be a lot of chocolate, alcohol, and an elephant sized tranquilizer potion.
Disclaimer: All property of J.K. Rowling. The plot is mine, however.
Notes: Thank you to the ever lovely kazfeistwho gave me the swift kick in the butt to write this bugger, and for the wonderful prompt including a preggers Hermione and an honourable Draco. :) Much love!
Missed it the first time around? Read Thank God I'm Not A Bridesmaid below:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Six months after the wedding fiasco
Just once, she wished her situation had ended up with a happy ending. Not that her current situation wasn’t happy, per se, but damn it, the picket fence, wedding ring and two children would’ve been a lot neater.
She contemplated Harry and Luna’s screaming quintuplets.
“Okay, I take that back,’ she said aloud.
Besides, she did have the wedding ring-sort of. Most women got the romantic proposal-dinner, flowers, the whole nine yards. Instead, she got a proposal on a stretcher in the emergency room of St. Mungo’s while she waited for a Healer to check him out-as well as her-to the glee of a packed waiting room who cheered him on while she blushed embarrassingly.
Her thoughts drifted back to that point.
Four months earlier
She woke up, bleary eyed, from a particularly odd dream involving dancing pineapples and Gilderoy Lockhart. She shook her head and then immediately regretted it as her stomach heaved. She dove for the bathroom and managed to puke the remnants of last night’s Thai food into the bathtub. The dog padded into the room after her and wagged her tail happily, sniffing at the disgusting mess. Hermione shoved her away as she aimed her next trajectory into the toilet.
“Never again,” she moaned, as she finished up and wiped her face clean with cool cloth. She silently thanked the fact that she a witch and was spared from manual puke cleaning rituals. Fifteen minutes and a shower later, she was ready for the day. She had finished fighting her hair with a brush at her bathroom counter when she looked down to tidy up. That was when she saw the half empty box of tampons and a startling reminder-she was late.
She was late.
Late. Her period was late.
She did some mental calculations and dropped her hairbrush, ignoring the splashing noise as it fell into the toilet.
Her heart started thumping and she broke out into a cold sweat. She Flooed work.
“I don’t think I’m going to be in today,” she said to the secretary.
***
An hour later, she blew into her flat and slammed the door shut behind her. She dumped out the contents of her bag out on the bathroom counter, fished the brush out of the toilet, and sat down on the edge of the tub. She took chugged down a two liter bottle of apple juice, pulled out her copy of Potioneers Monthly and urged her kidneys to hurry up.
When she couldn’t wait any longer to pee, she plunked herself on the toilet. Her hand was shaking so badly she was afraid she would drop the little stick.
***
She paced back and forth aimlessly, chewing on her lip. The timer went off and she peeked at the first stick.
Positive.
Well, it could be a fluke. She peeked at the other four Muggle pregnancy tests.
Pink, two lines, a little plus sign, and a visible “Pregnant.”
It could always be a coincidence. She looked at the pregnancy potion, which was an obnoxious shade of Pepto Bismol pink. She then looked at the magical stick, as the message popped up cheerily on the little display.
“Knocked up-you should start planning that baby shower,” it read.
“Malfoy, you bastard!” she yelled to the empty bathroom. “I always knew you’d still find a way to fuck me over!” She slapped a hand to her forehead.
After the wedding, she had seen him a few times-correction, they had shagged like bunnies a few more times, and she wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. Sure, he was gorgeous and practically sex on a stick, but he wasn’t really boyfriend material. Was he? Was she even girlfriend material? Forget that. Was she even mother material? The idea of kids scared her to death, frankly. Children were a lot of work and very messy, loud and needy. And now she had one growing away in her uterus.
“Fuck, Malfoy!” she yelled again, sinking to her bed.
“I have time for that,” a familiar voice answered back from her living room. “However, I was under the impression we were doing lunch.”
She shrieked as she ran into the living room, skidding right into the cause of her problems.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he asked, as he steadied her.
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out before clapping a hand over her mouth.
He fainted dead away with a loud thunk.
***
He came to a few minutes later and was surprised to find himself on a stretcher in a crowded room. Hermione hovered over him anxiously.
“Malfoy? Malfoy? Are you okay?”
“Er...yeah,” he said blearily, coming to. “Where am I?”
“You’re okay?” she asked.
“Yes...what happened?”
She smacked him across the head.
“Fuck,” he yelled. “What the fuck was that for?”
“You fucking fainted on me, you dumb fuck!” she yelled.
“I wouldn’t faint,” he scoffed, trying to sit up.
“You keeled over on me when I told you that I was pregnant!”
“Christ,” he moaned.
“Don’t you dare,” she yelled, shaking his shoulders. “We’re at St. Mungo’s-you hit your head pretty hard. Unfortunately, they ran out of
beds so you’re on a stretched in the waiting room.”
He could clearly see the amused people in the packed room watching their exchange.”
“So you’re pregnant?” he asked.
“Clearly, you idiot.”
“Are you sure?”
“Would you like to see my uterus? Of course I’m sure!” she shrieked.
Then he did something that she wasn’t expecting.
“This is amazing,” he breathed. “Hold on here.” He fished around in his trouser pocket, and removed a small velvet box.
“Wait-WHAT?” she said, shocked over his announcement. Then she saw the little box, and her eyes widened.
He opened the box to reveal a silver band with an amethyst set in it. “I saw this and thought you might like it. But it’ll serve a better purpose now. Marry me.” He looked at her imploringly.
The entire waiting room was silent, with even a couple of Healers looking at her, waiting for her response.
“Oh fuck,” she said, looking at the ring. And then at him.
“I think the right word is ‘yes’ dear,” a woman stage-whispered from the back of the room.
She burst into tears. Damn her hormones!
“Good job, boy, you really fucked it up,” remarked an elderly wizard in a wheelchair.
“Uh...Hermione, don’t cry,” he said desperately. Crying women were never his forte. It just wasn’t as gratifying when you tried the charm on
them.
She looked at him and sniffled. “You called me Hermione. Not Granger.”
“Well, yeah...” he said, not understanding.
“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she said, blinking at him. “Why?”
“Uh...because I love you?” he said, without thinking.
“Er, what?” she said, staring at him.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here,” he said desperately. “All I know is that we’re having a baby, and spending time with you is the best thing I’ve done in a long time, and you make me feel like someone who can be loved, and I feel like I love you, and that marrying you seems like a good idea, so let’s try it, okay? Plus, the sex is phenomenal. ” He had no idea what he was saying. He was pretty sure he was going to get hit again for being an utter moron (and a jerk for the shagging comment). He was surprised to see her smile at him.
“I don’t normally do things like this,” she said, chewing on her lip.
“I don’t normally do things like this either,” he replied. “Just...I don’t know, but this feels right. Please. I’m asking you. Marry me. We’ll make it work.”
She looked at him, and at the enraptured waiting room.
Did she really want this?
What did she have to lose? She was pretty sure she might love him too.
“Draco Malfoy, you have been nothing but trouble since the first day I met you. Then you came back into my life and fucked it up again-in epic proportions. You’re an annoying, smarmy bastard, but you’re my annoying, smarmy bastard. Plus, you’re right; the sex is pretty damn fantastic. So yes, I’ll marry you.”
The waiting room burst into cheers as he kissed her and slid the ring on her finger.
And then she threw up again.
And then he fainted again.
“That’s going to be one weird marriage,” the Healer commented to his colleague.
***
Present Day
She set her hands on the curve of her tummy as she stared out the window at the early fall afternoon, and played with the ring on her finger. They had ended up getting married a month later in a small ceremony with twenty of their close friends and family. Ron was apoplectic, Pansy was hysterical, and Hermione was extremely pleased. Their less than normal relationship had settled into a comfortable niche, and it turned out they adjusted to married life quite nicely. They were both surprised at how well things turned out, and even more surprised when they realized they really were in love with each other.
“This feels so surreal,” she said to the bump. “I can only imagine how horrified you will be when you found how you were conceived. I can only imagine how horrified your father will be when he finds out our interesting news.”
“What interesting news?” he said, coming up behind her and holding her tummy.
“I went to see the healer today,” she said. “I got to see the babies for the first time.”
“Babies?” he croaked.
“Everything is better in threes,” she grinned. She heard a thunk behind her.
“Your father needs to get over this fainting habit,” she said to her tummy.
End.
*****
In case you're wondering, I view their relationship as very unorthodox--I didn't want it to seem like I was rushing. It's kind of a clusterfuck to me, but I personally think that's what makes their dymanic so entertaining. :D