Chapter Eighteen: The Beginnings of a Bow
Author: justthedreams a.k.a. Misdemeanor1331
Beta: dormiensa
A/N: none
Gentle morning light filtered through curtained windows. Hermione shifted as the rays struck her face, and she turned away, searching for darkness, grasping for the Zs she so keenly needed. She had no concept of the exact hour, only that it was far too early to wake. Her body - her nether bits, particularly - ached something fierce, and her mind felt downright worn. She had been having the most ridiculous dream of Fiji and carnival plots and pandas and pirates… Her brow furrowed; maybe sleep wasn’t what she needed.
Something cooed to her right and, though Hermione was no ornithologist, she knew it wasn’t a dove.
“Oooh, look at his wee toes!” Regulus. By gods.
“A little angel!” remarked Pansy.
“A little Malfoy,” Snape corrected.
“No.” The babble silenced for a moment, then Draco continued: “A little Malfoy-Granger.”
It hadn’t been a dream, then. She had wanted it to be one so much. She didn’t want to deal with the threat of ninjas who were pandas, or pandas who were ninjas, or her soon-to-be-ex-mother-in-law trying to enslave the world with the One Ring and a not-so-underground Swiss cheese cartel.
Hermione moaned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The room quieted again.
“Please tell me I didn’t give birth in the back seat of a plot device,” she muttered.
“Everybody out!” Neville shouted. “Captain’s orders!”
A chorus of “Aye, aye!”s, several pairs of booted feet tromping away, a door being shut. Hermione chanced opening her eyes. Draco stood before her, blond, be-hatted, and bedazzled, holding a bundle swaddled in green blankets. She looked from him to the bundle, back to him, but mostly at the bundle.
“That’s an actual baby, isn’t it?” she asked quietly.
“Aye,” Draco replied. “Our baby. And it seems now that you have some choices to make.”
“Can I…” Hermione reached out her arms, but Draco hesitated, drawing the bundle toward his chest ever so slightly.
“You can,” he hedged, “but once you hold him, you’ll be useless as far as rational thinking goes.”
“If one more person makes a crack about pregnancy hormones -”
Draco interrupted her with a soft laugh. “No, no. It’s just that, well, he’s distracting, is all, and you have questions.”
Oh ho, did she ever have questions! Her life had gone so thoroughly off the rails as of late that it was difficult for her to remember all the bits and pieces. She felt like a shitty juggler, unable to track all the balls and flaming torches and chainsaws she had thrown.
She took a deep breath. “Very well, then. Questions.” Draco settled himself in a chair. “Aren’t you going to put him down?”
Draco smiled at her; he had his father’s teeth. “No. I’m already addled - it’s my natural state now.”
“Fine,” she said with a huff. She gave the blanket another fleeting look then steeled herself. “Did I give birth in the deus ex machina mobile?”
“No. You delivered here. Doctor Snape -”
“He’s a professor!”
“ - And Captain Tightbottom attended. Snape was thrilled to finally do something useful, though I believe you shattered his peg legs.”
“Right or left?”
“Both. I know you put Tightbottom off women for a while. That just as easily could’ve been my mum, of course, but still, Pansy won’t thank you for it.”
“Your mum! Draco, she’s in league with them! The pandas, and Diggy -”
“The ex-Diggy, you mean. The ex-pandas, too.” The bundle squirmed beneath its blankets; Draco adjusted his hold and began to rock back and forth slightly. “Calms him,” he said in response to Hermione’s wondering look. “So much time on a ship, I reckon he got used to the rocking.”
Hermione swallowed thickly. “Ex-pandas?” she prompted, trying to stay on task.
“Diggy’s minions, as we may or may not have already established. He was controlling them with his mind-meld cheese. Once he died, his power over them broke. They lost whatever ninja fighting skills they may have once had, remembered how much they hated this reproduction nonsense, and jumped ship. Of course, the dolts only then realized they couldn’t swim.”
“Hardly a loss,” Hermione said with a grim smile.
“Aye,” Draco agreed. “The sharks ate well last night.”
“Diggy, too?”
“We found enough of him to confirm his death, but not enough to discover who killed him.”
“Well, that’s convenient.”
“Too convenient, one might say.”
“And Narcissa?”
Draco shrugged. “I assume Potter was able to fight her off. Though he hasn’t been seen since. Maybe they absconded together.”
“Absconded?”
“Love takes many forms,” he said in a supercilious sort of tone.
“We need to find him.”
“Whatever you say. Literally.” Draco nodded at her left hand, and Hermione jumped in surprise. She hardly remembered putting the Ring on. It felt so natural on her hand now, and maybe that was part of the problem.
“That Gandalf was on to something,” she said darkly. “This ring is too powerful, and in the wrong hands… No one, especially someone you care about, should be forced to do anything. You should do it because you want to.” She met Draco’s eyes. “We need to destroy it.”
“Okay.”
“Wait.” She took off the Ring and placed it on her bedside table. “I want to destroy it.”
Draco smiled at her and placed his hand over her own. “As do I.”
She gave him a watery smile, and he scooted his chair closer. “Would you care to hold your son, Mrs. Malfoy-Granger?”
Hermione nodded and held out her arms once more.
“Why is it,” she asked, as Draco bent over her, “that whenever we get ourselves in these fantastical situations, one of us winds up pregnant?”
“What better way to bring people together?” replied Draco, slowly handing the infant off. “I’m just happy it was you this time.”
~*~
As Draco and Hermione’s conversation turned to the obligatory “oohs” and “aahs” over the baby, Pansy reeled in her Extendable Ear and straightened.
“Everyone get all that?” The group assembled behind her nodded, then, as if they had planned it, began to ask questions, indicating that they had, in fact, not gotten all that.
“Does this mean we’re a fellowship now, not a crew?”
“You don’t suppose we’ll have to change costumes, do you? I don’t fancy wearing tights…”
“If we are a fellowship, does that mean I’m not captain anymore?”
Pansy’s lips turned down in an annoyed frown: they were good questions. She took a stab at answering.
“I think that technically makes us a fellowship, but I’d prefer if we stayed a crew. I’m hardly desperate enough to want to see you” - she shot a look at Snape - “and Lucius in tights.”
“What about -”
“You can remain captain, Longbottom, as long as you shut your gob about it,” snarked Snape, clearly upset at the stockings jab. His new legs weren’t so bad, actually, though Pansy couldn’t figure out why he had chosen to decorate them with flames and skulls. “And where is Lucius?”
Pansy looked about her. She could have sworn he had been present for the birth. Kingsley, too. Strange…
“That’s not important right now,” she said with a careless wave of her hand. “What we need to figure out is how to destroy that ring.”
“There are a few active volcanoes in Iceland,” Neville offered.
“There’s only one volcano that would do the trick,” said Regulus. The hospital lights around him flickered forebodingly. “Mount Erebus.”
The group was quiet for a moment. “Erebus…” Snape whispered. “Isn’t that -”
“In Antarctica,” Regulus finished for him.
Pansy’s arms broke out in gooseflesh at the mere thought. Neville wrapped his arms around his chest.
“Must we?” squeaked Neville.
“Do you have a better idea?”
They fell silent once again. Several minutes passed, then Snape spoke.
“They’ll need a babysitter,” he said, nodding toward the hospital room door.
Another long silence followed, this time broken by Regulus.
“What are they calling him, anyway?”
TO BE CONTINUED...
Continue or ToC
Beta: dormiensa
A/N: none
Gentle morning light filtered through curtained windows. Hermione shifted as the rays struck her face, and she turned away, searching for darkness, grasping for the Zs she so keenly needed. She had no concept of the exact hour, only that it was far too early to wake. Her body - her nether bits, particularly - ached something fierce, and her mind felt downright worn. She had been having the most ridiculous dream of Fiji and carnival plots and pandas and pirates… Her brow furrowed; maybe sleep wasn’t what she needed.
Something cooed to her right and, though Hermione was no ornithologist, she knew it wasn’t a dove.
“Oooh, look at his wee toes!” Regulus. By gods.
“A little angel!” remarked Pansy.
“A little Malfoy,” Snape corrected.
“No.” The babble silenced for a moment, then Draco continued: “A little Malfoy-Granger.”
It hadn’t been a dream, then. She had wanted it to be one so much. She didn’t want to deal with the threat of ninjas who were pandas, or pandas who were ninjas, or her soon-to-be-ex-mother-in-law trying to enslave the world with the One Ring and a not-so-underground Swiss cheese cartel.
Hermione moaned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The room quieted again.
“Please tell me I didn’t give birth in the back seat of a plot device,” she muttered.
“Everybody out!” Neville shouted. “Captain’s orders!”
A chorus of “Aye, aye!”s, several pairs of booted feet tromping away, a door being shut. Hermione chanced opening her eyes. Draco stood before her, blond, be-hatted, and bedazzled, holding a bundle swaddled in green blankets. She looked from him to the bundle, back to him, but mostly at the bundle.
“That’s an actual baby, isn’t it?” she asked quietly.
“Aye,” Draco replied. “Our baby. And it seems now that you have some choices to make.”
“Can I…” Hermione reached out her arms, but Draco hesitated, drawing the bundle toward his chest ever so slightly.
“You can,” he hedged, “but once you hold him, you’ll be useless as far as rational thinking goes.”
“If one more person makes a crack about pregnancy hormones -”
Draco interrupted her with a soft laugh. “No, no. It’s just that, well, he’s distracting, is all, and you have questions.”
Oh ho, did she ever have questions! Her life had gone so thoroughly off the rails as of late that it was difficult for her to remember all the bits and pieces. She felt like a shitty juggler, unable to track all the balls and flaming torches and chainsaws she had thrown.
She took a deep breath. “Very well, then. Questions.” Draco settled himself in a chair. “Aren’t you going to put him down?”
Draco smiled at her; he had his father’s teeth. “No. I’m already addled - it’s my natural state now.”
“Fine,” she said with a huff. She gave the blanket another fleeting look then steeled herself. “Did I give birth in the deus ex machina mobile?”
“No. You delivered here. Doctor Snape -”
“He’s a professor!”
“ - And Captain Tightbottom attended. Snape was thrilled to finally do something useful, though I believe you shattered his peg legs.”
“Right or left?”
“Both. I know you put Tightbottom off women for a while. That just as easily could’ve been my mum, of course, but still, Pansy won’t thank you for it.”
“Your mum! Draco, she’s in league with them! The pandas, and Diggy -”
“The ex-Diggy, you mean. The ex-pandas, too.” The bundle squirmed beneath its blankets; Draco adjusted his hold and began to rock back and forth slightly. “Calms him,” he said in response to Hermione’s wondering look. “So much time on a ship, I reckon he got used to the rocking.”
Hermione swallowed thickly. “Ex-pandas?” she prompted, trying to stay on task.
“Diggy’s minions, as we may or may not have already established. He was controlling them with his mind-meld cheese. Once he died, his power over them broke. They lost whatever ninja fighting skills they may have once had, remembered how much they hated this reproduction nonsense, and jumped ship. Of course, the dolts only then realized they couldn’t swim.”
“Hardly a loss,” Hermione said with a grim smile.
“Aye,” Draco agreed. “The sharks ate well last night.”
“Diggy, too?”
“We found enough of him to confirm his death, but not enough to discover who killed him.”
“Well, that’s convenient.”
“Too convenient, one might say.”
“And Narcissa?”
Draco shrugged. “I assume Potter was able to fight her off. Though he hasn’t been seen since. Maybe they absconded together.”
“Absconded?”
“Love takes many forms,” he said in a supercilious sort of tone.
“We need to find him.”
“Whatever you say. Literally.” Draco nodded at her left hand, and Hermione jumped in surprise. She hardly remembered putting the Ring on. It felt so natural on her hand now, and maybe that was part of the problem.
“That Gandalf was on to something,” she said darkly. “This ring is too powerful, and in the wrong hands… No one, especially someone you care about, should be forced to do anything. You should do it because you want to.” She met Draco’s eyes. “We need to destroy it.”
“Okay.”
“Wait.” She took off the Ring and placed it on her bedside table. “I want to destroy it.”
Draco smiled at her and placed his hand over her own. “As do I.”
She gave him a watery smile, and he scooted his chair closer. “Would you care to hold your son, Mrs. Malfoy-Granger?”
Hermione nodded and held out her arms once more.
“Why is it,” she asked, as Draco bent over her, “that whenever we get ourselves in these fantastical situations, one of us winds up pregnant?”
“What better way to bring people together?” replied Draco, slowly handing the infant off. “I’m just happy it was you this time.”
~*~
As Draco and Hermione’s conversation turned to the obligatory “oohs” and “aahs” over the baby, Pansy reeled in her Extendable Ear and straightened.
“Everyone get all that?” The group assembled behind her nodded, then, as if they had planned it, began to ask questions, indicating that they had, in fact, not gotten all that.
“Does this mean we’re a fellowship now, not a crew?”
“You don’t suppose we’ll have to change costumes, do you? I don’t fancy wearing tights…”
“If we are a fellowship, does that mean I’m not captain anymore?”
Pansy’s lips turned down in an annoyed frown: they were good questions. She took a stab at answering.
“I think that technically makes us a fellowship, but I’d prefer if we stayed a crew. I’m hardly desperate enough to want to see you” - she shot a look at Snape - “and Lucius in tights.”
“What about -”
“You can remain captain, Longbottom, as long as you shut your gob about it,” snarked Snape, clearly upset at the stockings jab. His new legs weren’t so bad, actually, though Pansy couldn’t figure out why he had chosen to decorate them with flames and skulls. “And where is Lucius?”
Pansy looked about her. She could have sworn he had been present for the birth. Kingsley, too. Strange…
“That’s not important right now,” she said with a careless wave of her hand. “What we need to figure out is how to destroy that ring.”
“There are a few active volcanoes in Iceland,” Neville offered.
“There’s only one volcano that would do the trick,” said Regulus. The hospital lights around him flickered forebodingly. “Mount Erebus.”
The group was quiet for a moment. “Erebus…” Snape whispered. “Isn’t that -”
“In Antarctica,” Regulus finished for him.
Pansy’s arms broke out in gooseflesh at the mere thought. Neville wrapped his arms around his chest.
“Must we?” squeaked Neville.
“Do you have a better idea?”
They fell silent once again. Several minutes passed, then Snape spoke.
“They’ll need a babysitter,” he said, nodding toward the hospital room door.
Another long silence followed, this time broken by Regulus.
“What are they calling him, anyway?”
TO BE CONTINUED...
Continue or ToC