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And Somehow this Hell is Home by myfavoriteaccident
Chapter 15 : Things Took a Turn.
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 8

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Hermione sighed, her feet aching as she toddled out to the get the mail. Oh she was so tired of being pregnant. Only how many more months to go? She mused, pulling down the door of her mailbox. She reached inside, pulling its contents out. She leaned against the concrete post, flicking through the various letters and junk mail. Hermione glanced up as she heard a rustling noise. An owl was hurtling towards her.

Oh, great.

She jumped as the bird landed upon her mailbox and screeched at her. She took the letter that was tied to its leg; it eyed her before taking off in a flurry of feathers.

Her hazel eyes roamed over the front of the letter, noting that it was addressed to both Draco and herself.

It was from his mother.

Hermione felt her stomach quiver. What could it say? Hermione glanced towards Draco’s house, seeing him flickering past the front window. Was it about the two of them being together? Had she heard about the baby that was growing inside Hermione? She should probably go show him the letter from his mother.

She groaned, pressing her hand to her lower back as she began to head towards his front door. She knocked loudly, peering into the tiny window at the top of the door. She smiled when she saw him whip around to answer.

“What are you doing out, you should be resting.” He murmured, as he opened the heavy oak door. Draco took her hand and led her inside.

She swallowed hard and looked up at him. “Well, um. I have something to show you.” Hermione said, as he settled her into the recliner. She snuggled into it, feeling the cushions almost sucking her in. She knew it would be next to impossible to get out of, but it was so comfortable Hermione couldn’t care less.

Draco sat on the coffee table in front of her. “What do you have to show me?” He said, his eyes roaming over her face.

Hermione meekly presented the letter, her lower lip quivering. “It’s from your mother.”

Draco grimaced, turning it over in his hands. “I wonder what I could say.” He said softly, carefully peeling the Malfoy seal that closed the letter.”

My dearests,

            Draco, it has been a while since I have spoken to you last. I trust you have heard about your father. I am devastated, naturally, but I feel that he brought it upon himself. We both know he toyed with fire all his life and he got burned. I think that we have both learned to be better people, following your fathers mistakes. I do not believe he suffered. Also, I heard that you and that Muggle Born from Hogwarts, Hermione Granger are in a relationship. I am glad to hear that you have found someone that you truly care about. I have also heard that she is pregnant and that worse, she is pregnant out of wedlock. Draco, you know how I feel about these things. This grandchild will not be born a bastard and will not be born without the Malfoy name. The two of you have to be married, no exceptions. I can handle a half-blood grandchild, but not a half-blood, illegitimate grandchild. Write me as soon as you are able with your plans.

Hope all is well.

Your Mother.

Draco grimaced, looking up at Hermione, seeing that she had finished reading the letter. “Well, I guess that blows my plans.” He grumbled, taking her hand.

Hermione sighed. “At least she knows, and she accepts. That’s all we can ask for, I suppose.” She squeezed his fingers, smiling slightly. “What plans did you have?” She asked.

Draco shrugged a gleam in his ice colored eyes as he watched her. “Nothing, of which you need to know about. My darling.” He said, leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead. Draco stood, making his way towards his kitchen.

Hermione saw him blow out a long stream of air, dragging his hands through his hair as he opened the cabinet.

Great, he was drinking.

She groaned, pushing herself with all her might, out of the chair. Hermione wobbled forward towards him as he was pouring a generous measure of vodka into a glass. “So, where does this leave us?” She asked quietly, her eyes roaming over his Adonis face as he sipped the liqueur.

Draco glowered, setting the drink down. “Well, I was going to ask you to marry me, but I guess my mother had already done that for me.” He said waspishly, taking another sip.

Hermione felt her heart flutter. He was going to propose?

Draco raked his eyes over her. “I wanted to give you a proper wedding, something you deserved after the baby came.” He set the glass down. “But now that is out of the question I suppose.” He said his voice sour. Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “She will want us married before the baby is born.”

He seemed so bitter. Hermione reached forward, taking his hands and pressing against him. She settled her head against his chest, hearing the dull thud of his heartbeat. “Whatever we have to do I’m happy with, as long as I’m with you.” She murmured.

Draco kissed the top of her head, resting his chin there. “I know, I just, didn’t want a shotgun wedding. I wanted to see you dressed up and beautiful. I wanted to see you walk down the aisle, happy.” He sounded resentful.

Hermione felt tears stinging the backs of her eyelids as she closed them, tilting her head down. “I know, Draco.” She whispered, biting her lip. “Maybe after the baby comes we can have a proper wedding.” She suggested.

Draco grimaced and heaved a deep sigh. “I suppose.”

She glanced up at him. She felt horrible, that his mother was taking this from him. “I love you.” She whispered, nuzzling her head back into his chest.

“I love you too, my darling.”


“RONALD WEASLEY, WHAT IN MERLINS NAME DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?” She shouted, grasping her stomach as she saw him rooting around the guest room, knocking things to the ground. He tossed her daughters things aimlessly, growling. “What are you doing?” She demanded.

He turned around, his eyes red from the angry tears he was crying. “Why, Hermione? Why him?”

She gaped. What was he saying?

“How can you love him? How could want to be with him?” Ron whimpered, his eyes filling once more as he dropped a pack of bibs from his hand. “After all we have been through…after everything he has put you through. How?”

Hermione felt her mouth working furiously, trying to grasp a comeback. What was happening here?

“It was supposed to be us. Everyone knew that, it was always going to be Ron and Hermione.” He glanced down miserably at her abdomen. “That should be my child, not some filthy, evil, lying scumbag Death Eater’s child. We should be getting married, it should be us living together, us being happy. How can you live with yourself? Sleeping with the enemy, do you not remember the things he said and did to you? All of the names and the death threats? Christ Hermione, how many times did he try to get us killed? And that’s who you fell in love with, not some reformed, goody two shoes version that he has whipped up to appease you. Draco Malfoy is still the dirty, no good coward he was in school and you know it.” Ron growled. He glared at her, his blue eyes glinting with bitterness.

She steeled herself, tilting her face to stare directly into Ron’s. “I’m the only one to blame, right, Ron? Because you did nothing, I never caught you in my home, on my couch, snogging some filthy two bit whore? You never lied to me and told me you were done seeing her, right? That you loved me and it was only me, right? ‘Oh, Hermione, I love you so much, I can’t wait until we can start our life together, we are going to be so happy.’ Isn’t that what you said, Ron? Not two damn weeks before I asked you to move in? You say this is my fault?” She pointed a finger at him, her face livid. “It’s my fault that Draco is a good man, who loves me, takes care of me, who is going to marry me and help raise our child? Well, hell, then I’m guilty, because he is doing a better job than you could have ever done, Ron.” She watched the color drain from his face. “You had your chance, Ron and you chose to ruin it. Don’t you dare come into my home and try to lecture me, to put words in my mouth. Don’t you dare insult my fiancé and the father of my child.” She turned to leave the room, glancing over her shoulder. “This room had better be exactly as it was, Ronald.” She snapped, nearly feeling him wince as he bent to clean up.

She felt tears burning the backs of her eyelids as she wandered down the stairs.

Harry was there, glancing at her. He jumped to his feet at her expression. “I heard some shouting. Are you okay?”

She growled. “Ronald had some things to express I suppose. He told me how he feels about the baby and Draco.” She felt overwhelmed. Why would Ron just snap like that?

Harry frowned, taking her hand and leading her to a chair. “He is a red head; you knew it would come eventually.” He looked at her. “Did he say anything bad?”

She shrugged, settling back into the cushions. “He asked how I could live with myself, know that I’ve the spawn of Satan growing inside me, and how could I have done this to him and how it’s my fault that his is unhappy, blah blah, blah.” She said softly, her eyes scanning Harry’s face.

He sighed, sitting back on his haunches. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I can’t condone his behavior. It’s pretty unacceptable.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’ll say something to him about it.” He looked at her, his green eyes searching. “So, about this wedding, how quickly is she going to make you have it?”

Hermione shifted uneasily in her seat. The rather crabby response Draco has sent his mother had resulted in and even more irritated letter from her, stating that the wedding was to be in a week, as to prevent her from ‘becoming too big for a dress.’ Narcissa had stated. “In a week.” She said meekly, watching him. “I know, it’s so stupidly soon. I hate it. I don’t see why we cannot just wait and have a proper wedding after the baby comes. It’s not like it will make any difference, she will still be a Malfoy.”

She saw a shadow pass over Harry’s face. “Yeah, I understand what you mean. It does seem a little excessive.” He shrugged as well. “It will all figure itself out.” He said, grasping her hand and smiling. “I’m going to go have a word with Ron, I suppose. I’ll try to straighten him out a bit.” Harry laughed, winking and standing up, heading towards the stairs.

Hermione sighed, watching him. She nervously rubbed her belly, feeling her daughter inside. This whole wedding was a fluke. Ron needed to get off his high horse and apologize to her. She sure hoped Harry was right.

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