Chapter 18

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters; J. K. Rowling does. In addition, I do not make any profit from this fanfiction. Huge thank you to my beta AmyLouise

Chapter 18

                                                            A middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start*

Four months later. Malfoy Manor.

Hermione was woken up in the middle of the night by an especially noteworthy contraction. They had started in the evening, and were coming with irregular intervals and strength. This one, however, was more powerful than the other ones.

Hermione sat up with a quiet "Oh" and patted her belly, calming down the little girl in her womb. Then she turned her gaze on the man sleeping beside her. The neon yellow-blue moonlight played on his skin and shimmered in his hair. His broad shoulders and defined chest glowed softly in the dim light of the night. His face was calm and relaxed. Long blond lashes fluttered slightly with each drawn breath. Hermione bit her lower lip - he was so breathtakingly delicious and tempting - and his masculine form awoke butterflies in her stomach. This wicked, naughty man managed to seduce her even in his sleep, even now when she was in labour.

This embarrassing, fangirl reaction to Lucius still surprised Hermione no end. For four months, she had strived to wrap her mind around this fact. For four months, she had tried to classify her feelings towards him, to understand where all this passion, awe and fondness had come from, and the explanation still eluded her. With each passing minute, she only managed to sink deeper and more profoundly into the grey, lucid ocean of his eyes and the spicy scent of his cologne. Each day, she was losing even more of herself into the burning fiery passion cauldron of his caresses and the irresistible comfort of his affection towards her.

Eventually, after hours of thinking and analysing, Hermione settled for the unbelievably illogical, but only explanation that she could find...she was head over heels in love with Lucius Malfoy. Yes, she was irrevocably in love with this difficult, complex and utterly fascinating man. Yes, she positively loved him, despite his dark past, their prodigious differences, and the vast number of his flaws.

She knew damn well it would not be a bed of roses: he was extremely possessive and almost unbearably controlling; he spread his dominating influence over his family with certainty, considering everyone in this category as being in his exclusive possession and under his undivided control. Sure enough, Hermione found herself in this exact predicament, even though she wasn't technically a Malfoy yet and would become one only in six months. It didn't really matter. A flamboyant diamond on her finger sparkled proudly in the moonlight as a reminder of to whom she belonged now.

To be honest, at first she did passionately fight against his controlling and possessive nature in an effort to maintain her independence. It was but a while later that she finally understood the nature of the beast...it was the way Lucius was brought up, his background. He simply was unable to behave differently. For centuries, the Lord of the Manor was responsible for the welfare of his family members; he was their only protection, and they depended on his support. It was in his blood; it was a part of him, and he couldn't fight it. Thus, Hermione learned to dodge and mollify his urge to control. After all, she was a remarkably clever girl.

During these four months that they had been together, Hermione had learned so much about him. She had learned how intelligent and knowledgeable this man was. For Merlin's sake, the man was a bibliophile, just as she was. He knew the history of the Wizarding world by heart and had read the entire book collection in the Manor's library. Hence, he was quite capable of providing mind-stimulating dialogue and discussion.

Of course, they had very dissimilar views on various topics, and thus their debates were often quite heated. But because Lucius was such an amazingly skilful manipulator, he always knew exactly when to seize the argument, right before it became too intense. His preferred method of stopping the discussion was to pin Hermione against the first somewhat horizontal surface to be found, strip her bare and plunge deep inside her. It was an extraordinarily effective method indeed and worked like a charm every time. Hermione smiled to herself and sighed wishfully. Regrettably, as her pregnancy progressed, this particular acrobatic etude had gradually become more and more difficult to achieve, and eventually, simply impossible. Surprisingly, the number of their arguments lessened rather drastically after that. How very odd, hummed Hermione to herself.

At times, he still did behave like his overbearing, haughty, arrogant, aristocratic self. So, Hermione was forced to give him a cold shoulder or a few days of a no sex and complete silent treatment. After just a couple of times of the combined therapy, she noticed that Lucius began to ponder his words carefully before speaking.

Still, her affection for him overshadowed everything. She came to love his smirks and arched brows, his dry, patronizing humour and sarcastic remarks, his low chuckles and annoyed huffs. She loved the way he grunted before getting up from the bed, the sounds that he made during his morning grooming ritual, and how light his eyes were right after the shower. Oh, those eyes could turn her on in a second!

She found out that he, too, still had the nightmares after the war. Hermione learned how to silence his whimpers and to soothe him back into slumber if he woke in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.

She was in love...plain and simple. Their passionate nights, and sometimes days as well, sustained her. They became her new energy source. Both of them were insatiable: every time they were near each other, their mutual desire flowed wildly through their veins. Every time he entered her, filled her, trembled in an orgasm deep inside her, and shouted her name in ecstasy, she felt his magical energy surging through her and merging with her own magical power. During those moments, Hermione was certain that their union was far beyond his or her control. It was their destiny; they were fated to each other.

And that's what mattered the most. Although the first few weeks after she had moved in with him were excruciatingly difficult for Hermione to endure, together they made it. Lucius helped her to make it! His presence by her side halted whispers and rumours, scaring off the cowards back into their shadows. He comforted her after Harry didn't even greet her with a "Hello" when they had met in the Ministry corridor. He held her and dried her tears after she received Molly's angry letter, in which Molly demanded an explanation. He even attempted to explain Ginny's silence to her, though without a success.

Then, after the first three weeks, things got better. Ironically, it started with Draco: for once, he was the bearer of the good news. When, one Sunday morning, agitated, dishevelled, and to be honest, positively mad-looking Draco burst in to the Manor's grand hall, Hermione froze in horror. She expected him to be furious, repelled by her, so she braced herself for a tantrum. Draco, however, didn't even bat an eye.

"Father," he yelled. Then his eyes landed on Hermione, and he said, "Granger, Granger, be quick, where is my father? Astoria is in labour. I need our family Healer there, now," and then he raked his blond locks with his shaking fingers. "She is in pain, Granger. Is it supposed to be like that? She is in a great deal of pain. That damned mediwitch said it is normal. I want our Healer there, and father... Where is he?"

For a second, Hermione was motionless, as if in a stupor...Draco surprised her immensely. However, after she noticed his shaking hands and his eyes, glassy with anxiety, Hermione sprung to life.

"Don't worry, Draco, everything will be fine. The pain is usual and expected. Astoria will deal with it...believe me."

"Draco, what happened?" The urgent voice announced Lucius' arrival.

"Astoria is in labour. I want our Healer Tibald there. Please, father, I don't trust that bloody mediwitch."

"Why did you leave Astoria alone, Draco? Is she alone?" Lucius quickly wrote the note to the Healer and sent it with an elf.

"No, of course she is not, father. Wrinkly is also there, as well as that damned mediwitch. Let's go, please."

"Yes, yes, just one moment, son. Hermione." Lucius turned to her, his eyes searching her face worriedly. "Will you be all right? Would you like to go with us?"

"I'll wait here, Lucius. Don't worry, I'll be all right. Good luck, Draco." Lucius came close to Hermione and gave her a lingering kiss, which caused Draco to roll his eyes at such display of affection, regardless of his half-mad state of mind.

"Father, please, we need to go."

"Yes, yes." And the two Malfoys hurriedly left to meet their new heir.

On the same day, while Hermione was reading in the Manor's library, a little elf brought her a letter. "There is a letter for missy Hermione. A good, good letter for missy," he said and disappeared. The letter was from Ginny, and Hermione's fingers began to shake. She opened it and read, while holding her breath.

Hermione, I don't give a damn about what everyone around me thinks. If you need to be with Malfoy, to hell with it, be with Malfoy. I don't bloody care. You are still my friend, my sister, and my son's godmother. Bring your bum over here as soon as you can. Please. Harry will behave; I promise.

Ginny

And so, Hermione did take her bum over there as soon as she could, and Harry did behave, just as Ginny had promised. It took a while for Harry to return to normal communication with Hermione, but eventually, he did. After all, they were very close friends and had gone through a lot together. Fortunately, a friendship of this kind was strong enough to overcome the differences. They talked; Hermione explained, and they understood each other.

The rest of the Weasleys managed to stay clear of Hermione right until Ginny went into labour with Albus. Hermione went to St. Mungo's with her and Harry, and that's where Arthur and the boys found her when they arrived. Seeing her there, sitting by Ginny's side, already quite heavy with Ron's daughter, melted their reservations away...she was one of them, carrying one of theirs, a Weasley. They simply could not deny her. Only Molly was still unforgiving and held on to it. Perhaps she needed a bit more time....

Hermione's breathing hitched. A strong, deep and painful cramp in her lower abdomen and sudden wetness between and under her legs and thighs tore Hermione from her musing. She had been so engrossed in thought that she had entirely forgotten about her contractions. Now, she was quite rudely brought back to reality...her waters broke, and contractions returned with renewed strength. They were deep and excruciatingly painful. At first, she tried to time them, as the mediwitch had taught her, but soon the pain became practically unbearable, and Hermione urgently shook Lucius' shoulder. His eyes opened.

"Lucius, it's time," she whispered between pants.

His grey eyes flashed with concern, and he sat up. "How are you feeling...are you in pain? Are you sure you want to go to St. Mungo's?" His voice was still raspy and scratchy after sleep. "All Malfoy women have given birth here, in the Manor, in the comfort of their own bed. Are you absolutely certain you want to go to the hospital?"

"Lucius, we've been over this a hundred times already. I want to go to the hospital, and I am not a typical Malfoy woman, and...Oh." Hermione's speech was interrupted by a contraction. "Lucius, we need to go now, and please, send a note to Ginny."

"Stubborn little witch," Lucius muttered while putting on his black lounge trousers and a white shirt. Then he hastily wrote the note to Potter.

Potter, Ms. Rose Weasley is on her way. Please arrange the proper welcome. LM.

A moment later, Hermione uttered a loud, long, and desperate howl. Lucius urgently scooped her in his arms and yelled for Wrinkly. With a feverishly panting Hermione in his arms, Lucius barked his orders to the elf.

"Find Tibald and ask him to come to St. Mungo's immediately. And deliver this note to the Potters."

Wrinkly nodded, "Yes, Master, Wrinkly will do, Master. The baby is coming, Master. Master should go now; baby is coming. Little missy Rose is coming."

Lucius huffed with exasperation and stepped into the fireplace with his precious witch in his arms. A second later they both disappeared in the green flames of the Floo. A mediwitch met them upon their arrival and urgently escorted them to a room. A few minutes later, Tibald was there as well.

In the room, with Hermione already in bed, Lucius drew a ragged breath. He held Hermione's hand and listened to her moans and pants. He watched her lying there, pale and sweaty, with apprehension and worry. She looked so extremely fragile. Gently stroking her hair and face, he asked, "Are you all right?"

Hermione smiled and nodded weakly. Lucius, however, was far from convinced; his little witch did not look all right to him. He redirected his question to the Healer: "Is everything in order, Tibald?"

The Healer met his worried glance and answered, "I'll know in a minute, Lucius. We need to run some diagnostic spells." And both the Healer and the mediwitch began to fuss around Hermione, quietly muttering spells and making passes with their wands.

When the requested minute passed, Lucius gave the Healer a stern, inquiring glance: "Well?"

The Healer frowned, and after a few more quietly muttered spells by him and the mediwitch, he stated, "There is a slight complication. We need to try a few manoeuvres, in order to deliver Miss Weasley naturally. Unfortunately, you will need to wait outside the room, Lucius."

Lucius turned his face to Hermione. Anxious grey eyes met honey ones, and Hermione smiled at him again. "Lucius, go. We will be fine. Let them do their work." Lucius slowly, reluctantly, released Hermione's hand, kissed her clammy forehead, and stood up.

With measured steps, he came close to the Healer, purposely invading his personal space. He hissed, in an obvious threat, "You do understand that you are responsible for Hermione and the baby? I entrust their well being to you, Tibald! I strongly recommend you do your best. You have known me long enough, Tibald...if anything should happen to them, I will not be gentle." With that, he left.

In the corridor, Lucius blindly stumbled towards a simple hospital bench and sank on to it. He sat there alone and scared to death that the world around him would crumble once again.