Fic : Malfoys Don't Cry
Title: Malfoys Don't Cry
Summary: Draco Malfoy is everything a Malfoy should be, but there's one thing his deceased father would have never forgiven. But now there's another flaw in the caricature of the perfect Malfoy. Because Malfoys never cry. Right?!
Characters/Pairing: Draco/Hermione, Ginny.
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating/Warning: PG-13 for language, I suppose. Warning for fluff. Yes, it's fluffy >.< be warned.
Word Count: 3534
Zunny//Hufflepuff
Draco Malfoy looked like he always had; arrogant, regal, intimidating and devastatingly handsome. It was futile for him to deny that he knew this and used it to his advantage, because what in the world would be the use of having the power to intimidate and charm if he didn’t use it for his own good? He was manipulative, yes, but he knew when to use it and when to keep it at bay. His manipulative side was strictly for business, and he had a completely different side only the people closest to him got to experience.
No one could say that Draco Malfoy was a failure. His speeches aimed to convince; his smile aimed to charm and the feeling of intimidation he evoked in the most confident men earned him immense respect. Needless to say, his business had never been better.
In many ways he had grown up to be the man his father had wanted him to be. He brought pride to the family name, he earned respect and fortune, he had power and connections and he never cried. It was everything being a Malfoy encompassed. Yet there was one flaw in his caricature of the perfect Malfoy that his father could never have forgiven had he been alive; Draco Malfoy was a blood-traitor. He was every bit as bad as every Weasley to walk the face of the earth.
It was never what people expected of him. His name had been almost irreversibly connected to the Dark Lord, let alone to the image of his father who could hardly have hated Muggles and Muggle-borns any more without combusting on the spot with hatred. It was however no longer a secret that Lucius Malfoy’s son had changed his ways and admitted that he no longer found any reasons or arguments to hate Muggle-borns.
Because if there was one thing Draco Malfoy relied on, it was reason, logic and well justified arguments. The day he could no longer convince himself based on logic and justification that Muggle-borns were truly beneath him was the day he opened his eyes and knew respect had to be earned. Draco Malfoy no longer demanded respect - he worked for it, he claimed it and he deserved it.
As it was, today was the day Draco’s deceased father would find yet another thing he would never have forgiven about his son. Oh, it started well enough. Draco Malfoy came to work 15 minutes early, as he always did, and sat down at his desk, preparing for a high-profile meeting that would hopefully produce a signature that would make his company even larger than it already was. He sat down with the papers that had been delivered to him some days prior, and he began working methodically on it as time did its own thing.
He was only interrupted by his secretary twice, until the fireplace in his office roared green and he had to hide the fact that he had actually been scared shitless by the interruption. The fireplace was rarely in use as it was one that only a selected few had access to, and he sat back in his chair wondering who on earth had the balls to interrupt him when most knew the important deal he was about to seal. Intimidating as he was and all. He smirked.
His smirk changed into a look of utter confusion as a particularly red head became visible through the flames. At least he got his question answered; Ginny Weasley would be the only one with balls enough to interrupt him when he was working on an important deal. She was annoyingly immune to all his best qualities; the ability to charm and to intimidate. It was a secret source to frustration, he had to admit.
He expected her to gloat about managing to make him lose his concentration, but her usual mischievous grin and sparkling eyes had been replaced by a flustered look he had rarely seen on her freckled face.
“She’s in labour.”
The words came as a pant, and it was obvious that she had run to the nearest Floo to bring him the message. He sat bolt upright in his chair, every thought about the case completely erased from his mind. His breath began coming in superficial puffs as he felt himself panic. And Draco Malfoy never panicked! He just wasn’t prepared. He hadn’t made the plan yet; he hadn’t figured out the quickest route to St. Mungo’s, he hadn’t packed her suitcase to have it ready to grab as they left, he hadn’t taken the leave off work he had planned and worked towards for months.
“There’s still...It’s two weeks too early,” he said, his voice several notches above his normal deep growl.
“I know,” Ginny replied, her eyes clearly displaying her worry. “I told her not to overwork herself with the finishing touches on the nursery. She refused to listen to everything I told her about you taking off work after this deal to finish it. Oh Merlin, she must’ve tried to put up the bookshelves.”
Draco sprung from his seat as it finally hit him that his wife was actually in labour, two weeks early.
“I told her to leave it,” he nearly shouted, wheeling around in confusion as if looking for something. “This is my last day; I was planning to spend the weekend on it!”
“Draco, what are you doing?” Ginny inquired loudly, watching him walk around himself in circles like a confused dog chasing his tail.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, coming to a halt on the floor.
She eyed him sympathetically for perhaps the first time in her life. She had never seen him anything but composed, cold, calculating and on top of everything. He was always prepared. It was almost like seeing Draco Malfoy for the first time, as he stood there looking slightly frightened and completely lost.
“My mum is taking her to St. Mungo’s as we speak. I promised Hermione I’d come for you, so you can’t just walk around in circles on the floor.”
He seemed to snap out of his moment of confusion and threw himself over his caller.
“Noxwood!” he barked, sounding if possible even more scary than normal. “Get on the Baymore case. The papers are in my office.”
“What? But, Mr. Malfoy -”
“Right now,” he said in a dangerously calm voice. “Get Blaise with you to the meeting.”
“But it’s only in 3 hours, I can’t possibly -“
“My wife is in labour. If you do not want to spend the next few weeks looking for a boring, unfulfilling and underpaid job, get your arse on this case immediately.”
Ginny had to fight the urge to laugh uproariously at the stuttering from the employee in the other end, yet again feeling thankful for the fact that Draco Malfoy had never managed to scare her with his tactics.
“Yes, sir... R-right away, sir, Mr Malfoy, sir - Sir.”
Draco rolled his eyes and moved away from his desk immediately, just as Ginny stepped out of the fireplace and dusted soot off of her robes.
“I can’t believe I’m leaving the most important deal in the history of my company to that complete dimwit.”
“At least Blaise will be there,” she reminded him, and noticed his shoulders relaxing slightly at her words. “Let’s just Apparate.”
Within seconds after focusing on the three Ds the reception area of St.Mungo’s Hospital materialised in front of his eyes and he find Ginny waiting impatiently for him by one of the wooden chairs. When she saw him she hurried towards the Welcome Witch and he followed with his heart beating abnormally strong in his chest.
“Excuse me, we need to find Hermione Granger-Malfoy,” Ginny said almost breathlessly as they reached the desk.
“Missing person files are made at the Ministry,” the Welcome Witch said dully, and concealed the roll of her eyes badly.
Draco fumed. “Look here, Miss Smart arse. My wife is having my kid right now, and if you don’t tell me where to find her in about - oh I don’t know - 2 seconds, I will sue you for every Knut you earn in this dead-end job.”
The Welcome Witch looked completely gobsmacked, finally realising just who she had said a badly disguised ‘buzz off’ to. She coughed involuntarily and only gaped for a few moments.
“Err, the maternity ward is on the First Floor, past the ward for Creature-Induced Injuries,” she muttered, and gave a relieved sigh as Draco grabbed Ginny’s arm and ran towards the lifts. “You’ll have to wait in the waiting room, though, Mr. Malfoy!”
Draco heard her, but had no plans to follow directions if he could help it. And let’s face it - he was Draco Malfoy after all.
The elevator only used a moment to reach the next floor, and they both pressed out the door at the same time, hurrying down the corridor of the Creature-Induced Injuries ward. Finally, they found a sign pointing them towards the maternity ward on the right and turned the corner, pushing each other as they both tried to turn the corner at the same time and bumped into the other. Ginny pushed him aside and reached the waiting room first, grinning at her victory only to have it slide off as if she was laminated when she met her mother’s disapproving gaze.
“Ginevra Weasley, did you just push the child’s father out of the way?!”
Ginny gave him an apologetic look, but he just grinned at the prospect of hearing Molly Weasley tell her off for it.
“I’m sorry, Mum, I’m just so worried and excited and bursting with...everything.”
“It’s okay, Molly,” he assured her, to Ginny’s surprise. “How is she?”
“She’s doing well. We got here almost thirty minutes ago, and fortunately there were no complications on the way. The medi-witch is taking care of her as we speak.”
“Medi-witch?” he asked, his face hardening slightly. “I want a Healer with her at all times. Who do I bribe?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Malfoy, stop being so elitist. You can’t fix everything in the world just by snapping your fingers, no matter how fabulous you think yourself to be.”
He was about to retort, but was cut off by Molly who put a hand on his arm.
“I know you’re worried about Hermione, but it’s not standard procedure to use Healers for delivering a child. In fact, the medi-witches are better educated on the field.”
“My mum would know. All I have to say is; seven,” Ginny said dryly, flopping down onto an available chair.
Their discussion was cut off by a woman in her 40s stepping out of the nearest room. She was dressed in light blue medi-witch robe, and she stopped by the three of them smiling gently.
“There’s still a bit of a wait before she’s ready to deliver, but she’s doing very well and seems to handle the situation just fine, considering we’re a bit early yet,” she assured them, giving a slight nod.
“I want to see her,” Draco demanded. “I’m the baby’s father. Draco Malfoy.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Adding your name to every sentence isn’t going to help, you know.”
The medi-witch just smiled, though, and it turned even wider as she inclined her head a bit.
“Mrs. Granger-Malfoy told me the father was a redhead.”
Draco felt as if all air had been punched out of his gut, and his face twisted into a horrified grimace of pain. Then, suddenly, the medi-witch laughed.
“That’s exactly what she said your face would look like, Mr. Malfoy,” she said between fits of laughter. “I assure you, your wife is in good spirit and there is nothing to worry about.”
He watched the medi-witch walk down the corridor, and he just gaped after her. Had he just been pranked by his wife in labour?!
“That infuriating bush-creature,” he growled, balling his fists at the memory of the excruciating pain he had endured for a fraction of a moment.
“You should have seen your face, mate,” Ginny cried, her cheeks red from laughter. “Speak of the pea-brains, where are they?”
“Since they’re not trying to break into her room as we speak, I suppose no one has told them yet,” Molly said, and then got her cloak from the back of her chair. “I’ll go tell the rest, and you two can stay here in case she needs you.”
“Thank you,” he said just as she turned to leave. “For everything.”
“Nothing to thank me for, dear,” she smiled. “She’s like my own daughter.”
He nodded in reply, not knowing what to say. He never had been good with these things, and the simple thank you had been hard enough to press forth. It wasn’t a Malfoyish thing to do. Malfoys didn’t show gratitude or emotion.
“I just want to see her,” he muttered as he took the seat next to Ginny.
“I guess they want her to rest and take it easy, and Merlin knows you two will only rile each other up.”
“Actually,” a voice said from above and they looked up to find the medi-witch by their side again, “it’s not that we don’t want you to see your wife, but there’s always a risk of accidental magic during labour. We cannot risk having anyone else in the room, I’m afraid. Once we’re out of dangerous waters, you will be able to see her.”
“And when is that?” he asked, but knew what the probable answer was.
“Not until the baby has been born, I’m afraid.”
“She’ll be fine,” Ginny soothed. “She’s strong.”
“I know,” he muttered. “She’s the Gryffindor. I’m not.”
Ginny watched him in dawning comprehension. He wasn’t afraid that she couldn’t handle it; he wanted to see her to calm his own fears.
“I’m sorry if the joke upset you, Mr. Malfoy,” the medi-witch said as she put her hand on the door. “Your wife was very persuasive.”
“Not to worry, I’m quite used to it,” he said with a tired smile. “Will you tell her that I arrived and that I’m not leaving?”
“That I can do.” She smiled and disappeared behind the door.
“Draco, you don’t have to worry. There’s a woman giving birth practically every second. We’re made to handle this,” Ginny told him, watching him where he had sunk low in the chair.
“But it’s too early.”
“In this day and age two weeks is nothing. They have everything under control.”
He was saved from answering as two more Gryffindors came sprinting around the corner.
“Is she alright?” Harry panted as he rested his hands against his knees, breathing heavily.
“She’s fine,” Ginny replied. “They’ve got it all under control.”
“Why didn’t you get us sooner?” Ron asked indignantly, flopping exhaustedly down into a chair.
Ginny arched her eyebrow.
“Possibly because my main priority was getting the father.”
“Oh him,” Ron said, wrinkling his nose slightly.
“You know, I’m sitting right here, Ron,” he said in disdain, scowling at the redhead out of the corner of his eye.
Ron just shrugged in reply.
-:-:-:-:-
Several hours later there were still no words from the medi-witch who had not appeared again since she slipped inside to see to Hermione. Draco was slowly driving himself mad and almost laughed in relief when the cell phone Hermione had forced him to get rang in his pocket. At least there was a distraction.
“Draco Malfoy,” he said tiredly into it, rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, mate,” Blaise said in the other end. “Everything alright? Noxwood told me about Hermione.”
“She’s fine, as far as I know. I’m not allowed inside, but they say it’s going well.”
“Good to hear, good to hear,” Blaise replied cheerfully. “I called to tell you the deal is sealed.”
“Really? Oh man, that’s fantastic,” Draco breathed in relief, giving Ginny the thumbs up. “I knew you wouldn’t let Noxwood fuck it up.”
“He came close a few times, but thankfully you had managed to get most of it done before you had to run.”
“Thanks, Blaise. Well done.”
“Gratitude and praise from Draco Malfoy? It really must be a joyous day,” he replied dryly.
“Yeah, it’s not a regular occurrence.”
“I sure hope not. Good luck, mate.”
“Go back to work, Zabini!”
Blaise laughed in the other end before their connection was broken and Draco slid his cell phone back into the pocket of his black slacks.
“Congrats,” Ginny offered, smiling briefly.
“I may have to join you on the congratulations,” a female voice said, and Draco’s head snapped up to find the medi-witch standing in the door.
His eyes widened with a silent question and she nodded with a smile, opening her door a bit wider. He jumped from his seat and slid past her as he heard her ask the rest to wait a bit to give them some privacy.
He stopped right inside the door, looking towards the bed to find Hermione resting against the pillows, some of her curls sticking to her face with sweat and her cheeks glowing with exhaustion. His breath caught in his throat, wondering how come she had never looked more beautiful than in that exact moment. But then he realised he was mistaken, because the moment following she gave a slight smile when she noticed him and she had never looked better than in that exact moment.
Forcing himself to breathe again he walked over to the bed and found an empty seat next to it. His hand came to rest softly on her forehead, stroking a wet curl away.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, love,” he whispered, and she shook her head under his hand.
“Don’t even dare beat yourself up over that,” she chastised. “No one could help that the baby decided to show up two weeks too early.”
“The nursery isn’t finished,” he said in an apologetic voice.
“It’s as good as finished, Draco. Please, this is not the moment to worry about insignificant things,” she said smiling widely up at him.
He nodded silently, before he bent down and pressed his lips to hers for a fleeting second.
“What happened to the meeting?” she asked in worry, and he just smiled and shook his head.
“Blaise managed to pull it together, and as of today I have weeks off to spend with you.”
“Oh thank Merlin, I was terrified I had ruined it,” she sighed, looking down at her hands.
“Even if the deal had fallen through, I wouldn’t give a bloody damn. You are my top priority.”
He moved his hand down to her cheek and slid his thumb against her skin, smiling softly down at her - his wife.
“Mr. Malfoy?” the medi-witch suddenly interrupted softly. “Would you like to hold your daughter?”
His head whipped around and his eyes were large, and couldn’t believe he had almost forgotten the baby in his relief to see Hermione. Merlin, he had a daughter. The smiling witch held a little bundle in her arms and she bent forwards, putting it carefully into his trembling arms, reminding him to support the head.
She felt light in his grip, but she was warm against his chest, and he could feel her tiny body move slightly against him. He looked down and found a fresh pink face, her eyes screwed together tightly and her tiny, soft lips were parted as she drew her breath. His chest tightened, and he tried desperately to breathe deeper.
No. No, Draco Malfoy. You will not...no you dare not do this!
He moved his finger slightly against the blanket that held his daughter, and tried desperately to ignore how warm she felt against his chest and how he could feel her take tiny gasps of air.
You are a bloody Malfoy! PULL IT TOGETHER!
His hand moved slowly upwards and found another hand - but a miniscule one - between the folds of the blanket. It looked so fragile against his big one, and he could barely breathe as he touched it. He ran his index finger over a tiny, soft finger, and his throat immediately clogged up.
MALFOYS DON’T CRY!
He bent his head and put his lips softly to her velvety cheek, and the exact moment he felt his daughter’s baby soft skin all his walls fell and for the first time in his life he felt his cheeks moisten from glistening tears. They leaked from his eyes as he buried his head against the small girl in his arms, and he breathed in the scent of his newborn child.
The door opened to reveal three Weasleys and a Potter, and he looked up, his cheeks glistening with pearly tears. Ginny’s lip trembled noticeably as she watched him clutch the tiny life to his chest, and Molly already had tears of her own leaking from her mild eyes.
“She’s so perfect,” he croaked, his voice hoarse from tears.
Yes, it was the day the deceased Lucius Malfoy got another reason to not forgive his son.
Draco Malfoy was a blood-traitor, as bad as any Weasley, living his life with a Muggle-born wife and creating a half-blood child.
And Draco Malfoy cried.
Malfoys never cry.
LOL how wrong it feels to tag this fic with Hermione Granger-Weasley. >.< Needless to say, this disregards the epilogue.
Summary: Draco Malfoy is everything a Malfoy should be, but there's one thing his deceased father would have never forgiven. But now there's another flaw in the caricature of the perfect Malfoy. Because Malfoys never cry. Right?!
Characters/Pairing: Draco/Hermione, Ginny.
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating/Warning: PG-13 for language, I suppose. Warning for fluff. Yes, it's fluffy >.< be warned.
Word Count: 3534
Zunny//Hufflepuff
Draco Malfoy looked like he always had; arrogant, regal, intimidating and devastatingly handsome. It was futile for him to deny that he knew this and used it to his advantage, because what in the world would be the use of having the power to intimidate and charm if he didn’t use it for his own good? He was manipulative, yes, but he knew when to use it and when to keep it at bay. His manipulative side was strictly for business, and he had a completely different side only the people closest to him got to experience.
No one could say that Draco Malfoy was a failure. His speeches aimed to convince; his smile aimed to charm and the feeling of intimidation he evoked in the most confident men earned him immense respect. Needless to say, his business had never been better.
In many ways he had grown up to be the man his father had wanted him to be. He brought pride to the family name, he earned respect and fortune, he had power and connections and he never cried. It was everything being a Malfoy encompassed. Yet there was one flaw in his caricature of the perfect Malfoy that his father could never have forgiven had he been alive; Draco Malfoy was a blood-traitor. He was every bit as bad as every Weasley to walk the face of the earth.
It was never what people expected of him. His name had been almost irreversibly connected to the Dark Lord, let alone to the image of his father who could hardly have hated Muggles and Muggle-borns any more without combusting on the spot with hatred. It was however no longer a secret that Lucius Malfoy’s son had changed his ways and admitted that he no longer found any reasons or arguments to hate Muggle-borns.
Because if there was one thing Draco Malfoy relied on, it was reason, logic and well justified arguments. The day he could no longer convince himself based on logic and justification that Muggle-borns were truly beneath him was the day he opened his eyes and knew respect had to be earned. Draco Malfoy no longer demanded respect - he worked for it, he claimed it and he deserved it.
As it was, today was the day Draco’s deceased father would find yet another thing he would never have forgiven about his son. Oh, it started well enough. Draco Malfoy came to work 15 minutes early, as he always did, and sat down at his desk, preparing for a high-profile meeting that would hopefully produce a signature that would make his company even larger than it already was. He sat down with the papers that had been delivered to him some days prior, and he began working methodically on it as time did its own thing.
He was only interrupted by his secretary twice, until the fireplace in his office roared green and he had to hide the fact that he had actually been scared shitless by the interruption. The fireplace was rarely in use as it was one that only a selected few had access to, and he sat back in his chair wondering who on earth had the balls to interrupt him when most knew the important deal he was about to seal. Intimidating as he was and all. He smirked.
His smirk changed into a look of utter confusion as a particularly red head became visible through the flames. At least he got his question answered; Ginny Weasley would be the only one with balls enough to interrupt him when he was working on an important deal. She was annoyingly immune to all his best qualities; the ability to charm and to intimidate. It was a secret source to frustration, he had to admit.
He expected her to gloat about managing to make him lose his concentration, but her usual mischievous grin and sparkling eyes had been replaced by a flustered look he had rarely seen on her freckled face.
“She’s in labour.”
The words came as a pant, and it was obvious that she had run to the nearest Floo to bring him the message. He sat bolt upright in his chair, every thought about the case completely erased from his mind. His breath began coming in superficial puffs as he felt himself panic. And Draco Malfoy never panicked! He just wasn’t prepared. He hadn’t made the plan yet; he hadn’t figured out the quickest route to St. Mungo’s, he hadn’t packed her suitcase to have it ready to grab as they left, he hadn’t taken the leave off work he had planned and worked towards for months.
“There’s still...It’s two weeks too early,” he said, his voice several notches above his normal deep growl.
“I know,” Ginny replied, her eyes clearly displaying her worry. “I told her not to overwork herself with the finishing touches on the nursery. She refused to listen to everything I told her about you taking off work after this deal to finish it. Oh Merlin, she must’ve tried to put up the bookshelves.”
Draco sprung from his seat as it finally hit him that his wife was actually in labour, two weeks early.
“I told her to leave it,” he nearly shouted, wheeling around in confusion as if looking for something. “This is my last day; I was planning to spend the weekend on it!”
“Draco, what are you doing?” Ginny inquired loudly, watching him walk around himself in circles like a confused dog chasing his tail.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, coming to a halt on the floor.
She eyed him sympathetically for perhaps the first time in her life. She had never seen him anything but composed, cold, calculating and on top of everything. He was always prepared. It was almost like seeing Draco Malfoy for the first time, as he stood there looking slightly frightened and completely lost.
“My mum is taking her to St. Mungo’s as we speak. I promised Hermione I’d come for you, so you can’t just walk around in circles on the floor.”
He seemed to snap out of his moment of confusion and threw himself over his caller.
“Noxwood!” he barked, sounding if possible even more scary than normal. “Get on the Baymore case. The papers are in my office.”
“What? But, Mr. Malfoy -”
“Right now,” he said in a dangerously calm voice. “Get Blaise with you to the meeting.”
“But it’s only in 3 hours, I can’t possibly -“
“My wife is in labour. If you do not want to spend the next few weeks looking for a boring, unfulfilling and underpaid job, get your arse on this case immediately.”
Ginny had to fight the urge to laugh uproariously at the stuttering from the employee in the other end, yet again feeling thankful for the fact that Draco Malfoy had never managed to scare her with his tactics.
“Yes, sir... R-right away, sir, Mr Malfoy, sir - Sir.”
Draco rolled his eyes and moved away from his desk immediately, just as Ginny stepped out of the fireplace and dusted soot off of her robes.
“I can’t believe I’m leaving the most important deal in the history of my company to that complete dimwit.”
“At least Blaise will be there,” she reminded him, and noticed his shoulders relaxing slightly at her words. “Let’s just Apparate.”
Within seconds after focusing on the three Ds the reception area of St.Mungo’s Hospital materialised in front of his eyes and he find Ginny waiting impatiently for him by one of the wooden chairs. When she saw him she hurried towards the Welcome Witch and he followed with his heart beating abnormally strong in his chest.
“Excuse me, we need to find Hermione Granger-Malfoy,” Ginny said almost breathlessly as they reached the desk.
“Missing person files are made at the Ministry,” the Welcome Witch said dully, and concealed the roll of her eyes badly.
Draco fumed. “Look here, Miss Smart arse. My wife is having my kid right now, and if you don’t tell me where to find her in about - oh I don’t know - 2 seconds, I will sue you for every Knut you earn in this dead-end job.”
The Welcome Witch looked completely gobsmacked, finally realising just who she had said a badly disguised ‘buzz off’ to. She coughed involuntarily and only gaped for a few moments.
“Err, the maternity ward is on the First Floor, past the ward for Creature-Induced Injuries,” she muttered, and gave a relieved sigh as Draco grabbed Ginny’s arm and ran towards the lifts. “You’ll have to wait in the waiting room, though, Mr. Malfoy!”
Draco heard her, but had no plans to follow directions if he could help it. And let’s face it - he was Draco Malfoy after all.
The elevator only used a moment to reach the next floor, and they both pressed out the door at the same time, hurrying down the corridor of the Creature-Induced Injuries ward. Finally, they found a sign pointing them towards the maternity ward on the right and turned the corner, pushing each other as they both tried to turn the corner at the same time and bumped into the other. Ginny pushed him aside and reached the waiting room first, grinning at her victory only to have it slide off as if she was laminated when she met her mother’s disapproving gaze.
“Ginevra Weasley, did you just push the child’s father out of the way?!”
Ginny gave him an apologetic look, but he just grinned at the prospect of hearing Molly Weasley tell her off for it.
“I’m sorry, Mum, I’m just so worried and excited and bursting with...everything.”
“It’s okay, Molly,” he assured her, to Ginny’s surprise. “How is she?”
“She’s doing well. We got here almost thirty minutes ago, and fortunately there were no complications on the way. The medi-witch is taking care of her as we speak.”
“Medi-witch?” he asked, his face hardening slightly. “I want a Healer with her at all times. Who do I bribe?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Malfoy, stop being so elitist. You can’t fix everything in the world just by snapping your fingers, no matter how fabulous you think yourself to be.”
He was about to retort, but was cut off by Molly who put a hand on his arm.
“I know you’re worried about Hermione, but it’s not standard procedure to use Healers for delivering a child. In fact, the medi-witches are better educated on the field.”
“My mum would know. All I have to say is; seven,” Ginny said dryly, flopping down onto an available chair.
Their discussion was cut off by a woman in her 40s stepping out of the nearest room. She was dressed in light blue medi-witch robe, and she stopped by the three of them smiling gently.
“There’s still a bit of a wait before she’s ready to deliver, but she’s doing very well and seems to handle the situation just fine, considering we’re a bit early yet,” she assured them, giving a slight nod.
“I want to see her,” Draco demanded. “I’m the baby’s father. Draco Malfoy.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Adding your name to every sentence isn’t going to help, you know.”
The medi-witch just smiled, though, and it turned even wider as she inclined her head a bit.
“Mrs. Granger-Malfoy told me the father was a redhead.”
Draco felt as if all air had been punched out of his gut, and his face twisted into a horrified grimace of pain. Then, suddenly, the medi-witch laughed.
“That’s exactly what she said your face would look like, Mr. Malfoy,” she said between fits of laughter. “I assure you, your wife is in good spirit and there is nothing to worry about.”
He watched the medi-witch walk down the corridor, and he just gaped after her. Had he just been pranked by his wife in labour?!
“That infuriating bush-creature,” he growled, balling his fists at the memory of the excruciating pain he had endured for a fraction of a moment.
“You should have seen your face, mate,” Ginny cried, her cheeks red from laughter. “Speak of the pea-brains, where are they?”
“Since they’re not trying to break into her room as we speak, I suppose no one has told them yet,” Molly said, and then got her cloak from the back of her chair. “I’ll go tell the rest, and you two can stay here in case she needs you.”
“Thank you,” he said just as she turned to leave. “For everything.”
“Nothing to thank me for, dear,” she smiled. “She’s like my own daughter.”
He nodded in reply, not knowing what to say. He never had been good with these things, and the simple thank you had been hard enough to press forth. It wasn’t a Malfoyish thing to do. Malfoys didn’t show gratitude or emotion.
“I just want to see her,” he muttered as he took the seat next to Ginny.
“I guess they want her to rest and take it easy, and Merlin knows you two will only rile each other up.”
“Actually,” a voice said from above and they looked up to find the medi-witch by their side again, “it’s not that we don’t want you to see your wife, but there’s always a risk of accidental magic during labour. We cannot risk having anyone else in the room, I’m afraid. Once we’re out of dangerous waters, you will be able to see her.”
“And when is that?” he asked, but knew what the probable answer was.
“Not until the baby has been born, I’m afraid.”
“She’ll be fine,” Ginny soothed. “She’s strong.”
“I know,” he muttered. “She’s the Gryffindor. I’m not.”
Ginny watched him in dawning comprehension. He wasn’t afraid that she couldn’t handle it; he wanted to see her to calm his own fears.
“I’m sorry if the joke upset you, Mr. Malfoy,” the medi-witch said as she put her hand on the door. “Your wife was very persuasive.”
“Not to worry, I’m quite used to it,” he said with a tired smile. “Will you tell her that I arrived and that I’m not leaving?”
“That I can do.” She smiled and disappeared behind the door.
“Draco, you don’t have to worry. There’s a woman giving birth practically every second. We’re made to handle this,” Ginny told him, watching him where he had sunk low in the chair.
“But it’s too early.”
“In this day and age two weeks is nothing. They have everything under control.”
He was saved from answering as two more Gryffindors came sprinting around the corner.
“Is she alright?” Harry panted as he rested his hands against his knees, breathing heavily.
“She’s fine,” Ginny replied. “They’ve got it all under control.”
“Why didn’t you get us sooner?” Ron asked indignantly, flopping exhaustedly down into a chair.
Ginny arched her eyebrow.
“Possibly because my main priority was getting the father.”
“Oh him,” Ron said, wrinkling his nose slightly.
“You know, I’m sitting right here, Ron,” he said in disdain, scowling at the redhead out of the corner of his eye.
Ron just shrugged in reply.
-:-:-:-:-
Several hours later there were still no words from the medi-witch who had not appeared again since she slipped inside to see to Hermione. Draco was slowly driving himself mad and almost laughed in relief when the cell phone Hermione had forced him to get rang in his pocket. At least there was a distraction.
“Draco Malfoy,” he said tiredly into it, rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, mate,” Blaise said in the other end. “Everything alright? Noxwood told me about Hermione.”
“She’s fine, as far as I know. I’m not allowed inside, but they say it’s going well.”
“Good to hear, good to hear,” Blaise replied cheerfully. “I called to tell you the deal is sealed.”
“Really? Oh man, that’s fantastic,” Draco breathed in relief, giving Ginny the thumbs up. “I knew you wouldn’t let Noxwood fuck it up.”
“He came close a few times, but thankfully you had managed to get most of it done before you had to run.”
“Thanks, Blaise. Well done.”
“Gratitude and praise from Draco Malfoy? It really must be a joyous day,” he replied dryly.
“Yeah, it’s not a regular occurrence.”
“I sure hope not. Good luck, mate.”
“Go back to work, Zabini!”
Blaise laughed in the other end before their connection was broken and Draco slid his cell phone back into the pocket of his black slacks.
“Congrats,” Ginny offered, smiling briefly.
“I may have to join you on the congratulations,” a female voice said, and Draco’s head snapped up to find the medi-witch standing in the door.
His eyes widened with a silent question and she nodded with a smile, opening her door a bit wider. He jumped from his seat and slid past her as he heard her ask the rest to wait a bit to give them some privacy.
He stopped right inside the door, looking towards the bed to find Hermione resting against the pillows, some of her curls sticking to her face with sweat and her cheeks glowing with exhaustion. His breath caught in his throat, wondering how come she had never looked more beautiful than in that exact moment. But then he realised he was mistaken, because the moment following she gave a slight smile when she noticed him and she had never looked better than in that exact moment.
Forcing himself to breathe again he walked over to the bed and found an empty seat next to it. His hand came to rest softly on her forehead, stroking a wet curl away.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, love,” he whispered, and she shook her head under his hand.
“Don’t even dare beat yourself up over that,” she chastised. “No one could help that the baby decided to show up two weeks too early.”
“The nursery isn’t finished,” he said in an apologetic voice.
“It’s as good as finished, Draco. Please, this is not the moment to worry about insignificant things,” she said smiling widely up at him.
He nodded silently, before he bent down and pressed his lips to hers for a fleeting second.
“What happened to the meeting?” she asked in worry, and he just smiled and shook his head.
“Blaise managed to pull it together, and as of today I have weeks off to spend with you.”
“Oh thank Merlin, I was terrified I had ruined it,” she sighed, looking down at her hands.
“Even if the deal had fallen through, I wouldn’t give a bloody damn. You are my top priority.”
He moved his hand down to her cheek and slid his thumb against her skin, smiling softly down at her - his wife.
“Mr. Malfoy?” the medi-witch suddenly interrupted softly. “Would you like to hold your daughter?”
His head whipped around and his eyes were large, and couldn’t believe he had almost forgotten the baby in his relief to see Hermione. Merlin, he had a daughter. The smiling witch held a little bundle in her arms and she bent forwards, putting it carefully into his trembling arms, reminding him to support the head.
She felt light in his grip, but she was warm against his chest, and he could feel her tiny body move slightly against him. He looked down and found a fresh pink face, her eyes screwed together tightly and her tiny, soft lips were parted as she drew her breath. His chest tightened, and he tried desperately to breathe deeper.
No. No, Draco Malfoy. You will not...no you dare not do this!
He moved his finger slightly against the blanket that held his daughter, and tried desperately to ignore how warm she felt against his chest and how he could feel her take tiny gasps of air.
You are a bloody Malfoy! PULL IT TOGETHER!
His hand moved slowly upwards and found another hand - but a miniscule one - between the folds of the blanket. It looked so fragile against his big one, and he could barely breathe as he touched it. He ran his index finger over a tiny, soft finger, and his throat immediately clogged up.
MALFOYS DON’T CRY!
He bent his head and put his lips softly to her velvety cheek, and the exact moment he felt his daughter’s baby soft skin all his walls fell and for the first time in his life he felt his cheeks moisten from glistening tears. They leaked from his eyes as he buried his head against the small girl in his arms, and he breathed in the scent of his newborn child.
The door opened to reveal three Weasleys and a Potter, and he looked up, his cheeks glistening with pearly tears. Ginny’s lip trembled noticeably as she watched him clutch the tiny life to his chest, and Molly already had tears of her own leaking from her mild eyes.
“She’s so perfect,” he croaked, his voice hoarse from tears.
Yes, it was the day the deceased Lucius Malfoy got another reason to not forgive his son.
Draco Malfoy was a blood-traitor, as bad as any Weasley, living his life with a Muggle-born wife and creating a half-blood child.
And Draco Malfoy cried.
Malfoys never cry.
LOL how wrong it feels to tag this fic with Hermione Granger-Weasley. >.< Needless to say, this disregards the epilogue.