Bless the Broken Road | By : Lissa & snowblind12 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 10182 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I make no money off of my stories. |
Disclaimer: We are in no way affiliated with JK Rowling or the Harry Potter Franchise. We are making no money off of our stories. This is just for fun.
Title: Bless the Broken Road
Author: LissaDream & Snowblind12
Main Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Potter, Harry Potter
Other Characters: Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Weasleys up the wahzoo, Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, a few new OCs, Tinny, Bilby, Mony the Pony.
Possible Trigger Warnings: character death, sexual content
Rating: MA
Summary: Almost fifteen years post the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy find themselves in a life they could never have imagined. Both have lost their spouses in untimely deaths. Both have young children to contend with. What will happen when their worlds reconnect via a spouse loss grief group put on by St. Mungo's? Canon compliant even through epilogue.
TAGS: character death, sexual content, masturbation, m/f smut, grief, drama, romance, kids, soul bond, mature Ron Weasley, post-Hogwarts, tearjerker, emotional trauma
Author’s Note: Hello ladies and gentlemen! We are excited to be back! A note for you (mostly for those who have read this story in the past, but if you’re new, please feel free to still read). First and foremost. PLEASE READ THIS STORY OVER. Please do not wait until we say, “TOTALLY NEW CHAPTER!” (Which should be about chapter 13). This story, when posted the first time, was not flushed out. It is now completed plotted and outlined. What was once the first five chapters, has been broken down to twelve chapters and about 12-15 new scenes have been or will be written and added to the old content. Some of the old content was barely changed, some of it was changed fairly significantly. Hopefully the things you loved are still here. I can say that with Snow’s input and thoughts, I’m more excited about this story than ever! She really makes me a much, much better writer. All our stories have been better for having each other. (I know she agrees, or I wouldn’t have said it!)
As for the fact that it shows there’s a total of six chapters on AFF and AO3. We’re sorry – there’s not. We don’t want to lose old reviews, so those chapters basically say, “Coming soon”. We have also left a “this story has moved” on my account on FFN. We plan to update weekly. The first five chapters are ready to go and the is sixth more than halfway completed.
Even though this story is very different from our others (especially Master Mine and World Not Fit), we hope you enjoy it very much. It’s a much sweeter, sadder drama/romance. It is a people story.
We are looking forward to sharing it with you!
All our love,
Lissa (and Snow)
BETAs: RaynePheonix2 & sab81790
Chapter One
Good to Gone
“Why does it have to go from good to gone?” *
February 4th, 2006
“The head is out!” the Mediwitch crowed in delight. “One more push should do it! You’re doing great, mummy! You got this!”
“Come on, Tori, one more push,” Draco encouraged. He smoothed her sweat soaked, dark chestnut locks out of her face. Giving her an affectionate smile, he took her hand again. “You can do it, baby.”
Astoria gave him a jerky nod and a tight smile; the exhaustion was evident on her face. He watched her prepare for the coming contraction. Her face crumpled and pulled into a grimace of undeniable pain mixed with overwhelming fatigue. Gritting her teeth, she grunted and pushed with all her might. Her face and neck turned red with the effort. Draco watched in utter amazement as the slippery, purple infant with a white coating slid from his wife’s body. It was the most incredible thing he had ever witnessed.
“It’s a boy!” the Healer exclaimed as precious cries started to fill the room.
“I knew it!” Draco whooped as he turned back to Astoria. His eyes were filled with excitement and triumph, and he had expected to see her beautiful blue eyes watching their son. He had expected to see her face wet with tears of joy. He had expected it, but her expression was nothing of the sort. Instead, she was slumped back against the bed, her lovely eyes fixed and staring. A deep sense of foreboding washed away his jubilation.
“Tori?” Draco’s question was fearful and left his lips just as high-pitched beeping wail pierced the room. For just a second, it seemed like the Healer and Mediwitches froze. Then utter chaos ensued. He was buffeted back against the wall and knocked his head.
“Tori!” His cry was desperate; his voice choked with fear.
“Get him out of here!” the Healer shouted.
“What’s going on?” Draco demanded. Terror gripped his chest, making it hard to breathe. He couldn’t think, couldn’t…no. This can’t be happening. “Please!” he cried when no one answered.
“You must come with me, Mr. Malfoy.” A Mediwitch gripped his arm tightly and started to pull him from the room.
“No!” he protested. “What’s wrong with my wife?”
“I said get him out of here!” the Healer cried again. Draco couldn’t see the Healer or Astoria as at least another half of a dozen medical staff came surging into the room. Strong arms grasped him from behind and, even though he fought with all his might, he was dragged from the room by two large security wizards.
“Draco!” Narcissa Malfoy was running down the hall. Her face was a mask of fear and concern. “What’s going on?” His father was behind her, but much more composed.
“Is it the baby?” Astoria’s mother, Iris, questioned as she pushed her way between Lucius and Narcissa.
“Come.” The Mediwitch – he thought her name was Daisy – grasped Draco’s arm and beckoned his parents and mother-in-law forward. “There is a private waiting room just over here.”
“I demand you tell me what is going on!” Draco seethed. The emotion of anger and his engrained haughtiness took over to help crush the stifling dread he felt deep in his gut.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” she responded placatingly. “Please, come.” She gestured them through the door into the small, but luxurious waiting space. “I will try and figure out what is happening, sir. I will be back as quickly as I can.” Before anyone in the room could protest, she was gone.
“What is going on, Draco?” Narcissa asked gently. She wound her hand through the arm of her twenty-five-year-old son, attempting to get him to look at her. “Is the baby all right?”
“I-I…I don’t know.” Draco was barely able to choke out the words. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Was he having a heart attack? He gulped for air before answering, “He was crying, the Medi-staff were excited – they seemed happy.”
“He?” Lucius’s face split into a grin. “A son then, Draco? Congratulations!” Narcissa shot him a mixed look of exasperation, delight, and concern. Of course, she was ecstatic to hear about the birth of her grandson, but something was not right. Her son was positively beside himself.
“I don’t understand,” Iris intoned, ignoring Lucius’ words. She watched the face of her son-in-law carefully. “If the baby was crying, what happened?”
“Astoria…” Draco swallowed, a hand coming up to card through his hair. “I…oh my God.” His throat closed and a sob wrenched his way up out of his chest.
Iris understood immediately, and tears started forming in her eyes as one hand came up to cover her mouth. Narcissa’s lovely face paled to a terrifying shade of white and she pulled her son into her arms, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and stroking his back. Lucius looked shocked and then an uncharacteristic expression of sadness swept his features as he glanced to the doorway. The Mediwitch (whose name tag did indeed read Daisy) had returned. Her face was grave, and her eyes were sad. Four faces fixed on her. In her arms, she held a small bundle of soft receiving blankets. In them, an infant was squalling quietly, making smacking sounds with his lips.
“Healer Peters will be here to see you momentarily,” she told them in a calm, soothing voice. “I thought that, in the meantime, you’d like to meet your son.” The jerk of Draco’s head and the glare he sent to the blankets in her arms made Daisy take a startled step back.
Iris watched Draco with undecipherable emotion in her eyes. She knew the rejection of his son came from his denial surrounding the sudden and unexpected death of his wife. Her heart ached with the knowledge her youngest daughter was dead. Somehow, she knew, even if she hadn’t heard the words yet.
“I will take the child.” She took a step forward and Daisy placed the bundle tenderly in his grandmother’s arms.
“How about the fun facts?” She was making a valiant effort to bring a bit of joy to what should have been a very happy day. “Weight? Length?”
“Of course.” Daisy gave the small group a tender smile, her eyes taking in the way the Malfoy’s were clustered together. Draco was wrapped in Narcissa’s protective arms while Lucius lorded over them both, bringing them a silent comfort. It was obviously a loving family. “This little guy was born at six fifty-two in the evening and weighs three-point-five-seven kilograms. He is 55.8 centimeters in length and absolutely perfect.” Her face could only be described as peaceful and affectionate as she watched the infant in Iris’ arms.
A moment later, Healer Peters entered the room. Face set with grim determination, she gestured to the chairs. “Please sit,” she instructed the room at large. Daisy inconspicuously took her leave as the group of five found seats. Draco sat between his parents while Iris and the child settled in across from them.
“I am afraid Mrs. Astoria Malfoy suffered from an aneurysm in her brain that ruptured with the strain of childbirth.” Draco couldn’t believe how cold and unfeeling the words felt. Horror and grief swept over him in a tidal wave of emotion.
“She’ll recover, though, yes?” Narcissa questioned, a hint of desperation in her voice. She adored the young woman who had made Draco so happy over the last three years. Astoria had become the daughter she never thought she’d have.
“I’m so sorry.” Healer Peters’ voice became soft and gentle, sadness seeping through and Draco’s eyes slid closed in attempts to hide his pain and stop the tears that threatened to spill. “We did everything we could, but her heart stopped. We could not restart it. She died at seven-nineteen.”
The silence was deafening, even the infant made no sound.
Does he know his mother is dead?
Dead.
My wife is dead.
She never got to touch him, hold him…look at him.
She never even got to see him.
Draco heard a strangled cry and looked around for the noise, startled. Only when his mother pulled his head into her chest did he realize it was he – himself – making such an undignified sound.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hermione Granger hummed happily as she redressed. She had just finished with her now weekly midwitch appointment. Her first child with husband Ronald Weasley was due mid-March and they were over the moon excited as they only had about six weeks to go.
“Gah, I will never get over how gorgeous you look with my daughter growing in your belly,” Ron told her with his trademark half-grin. “You are so beautiful.”
Hermione felt her face flush with pleasure as she met his blue eyes with her amber-colored stare. She smirked sheepishly at him before pulling her maternity dress over her bra and knickers. The moment the fabric fell into place, Ron was on her. Pressing a kiss to the underside of her jaw while both hands gripped her belly. He laughed against her throat as their daughter kicked her mother hard, right where one of his hands lay.
“Hey there, pretty princess,” he murmured down to Hermione’s protruding abdomen.
Hermione’s heart swelled with love for her husband of over four years. “You should get going,” she told him gently as he straightened. She locked her arms around his neck and stood on her tip toe to plant a kiss on his lips. They laughed through their kiss as she over-balanced and he had to steady her. Ron kissed her forehead.
“I know,” he agreed. “I promised boss that I’d only be out for my lunch hour, it’s getting close.”
Hermione nodded. “Say hello to Harry for me. Be safe.”
Ron squeezed one of her hands and smiled at her. “I will,” he promised.
They walked hand in hand to the reception area where he gave her one more kiss before disappearing into the floo. Hermione watched him go fondly before she turned and made her way to one of the magical lifts.
She was still feeling giddy after hearing her daughter’s magically amplified heartbeat. Knowing she was only a few weeks away from holding her, Hermione couldn’t resist popping up to the maternity ward to see if there were any new wee ones in the nursery.
The moment she stepped out of the empty lift, something felt wrong. There was a ping in her heart that ached like when she had finally realized it didn’t matter how many specialists she brought in – no one was going to be able to reverse the memory charm on her parents. Grief. How odd. She rubbed her chest where the feeling lay as if the friction would make the sensation disappear.
She was slightly startled when a high-pitched wailing came from down one corridor. Her lips pulled into a frown. She knew something was not right but decided she would keep her head down and go peek through the nursery windows as she had planned. No one seemed to notice her as some staff came barreling down the hallway. She pressed herself to the wall to avoid their frantic stampede. She watched for a moment, her stomach tightening with concern. She hoped whatever was happening had a positive outcome.
She continued on her way and was not disappointed when she reached the leaded glass observatory window of the nursery. There was a total of three swaddled bundles – two pink and a blue – in pretty white wicker bassinets. She all but pressed her face to the glass in order to see better, her eyes sparkling as she took in tiny noses and long lashes laying on chubby pink cheeks. One of the little girls was of African descent with the most beautiful russet-brown skin tone and a thatch of springy black curls. Tears sprung to her eyes at how precious they all were.
She was not oblivious to the mayhem happening down the hall, but knew it was none of her business. Unconsciously, one hand rested on the pane as the little blue bundle began to squirm and his tiny face scrunched up. Her heart leapt, not wanting the poor little thing to cry. A house elf dressed in a candy-striper uniform popped in the moment a weak fuss began to emanate from the baby. The elf scooped the child up and they were gone in a blink, presumably to take the fussing tot to his mum.
Hermione sighed and leaned against the glass, her forehead resting on the cool material. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, watching the remaining infants in their peaceful slumber. It was only when an awful, anguish filled cry met her ears that she straightened in alarm.
She scolded herself internally for being a busybody, even as her feet automatically led her down the hallway. It was as if her entire being was drawn to that awful sound. Her hands clenched and unclenched reflexively, and her heart and mind felt weighted by this unknown person’s grief.
She ducked behind a protruding half wall where there was a workstation as she watched a Healer leave a small waiting area and walk in the opposite direction down the hall, her head hung, and shoulders slumped as though she carried too great a weight. The door had been left slightly ajar.
Hermione, turn around and go home. This is none of your business! she demanded of herself. Something would not let her leave, however … and that same something drew her forward until she could peer through the crack in the door.
Her entire being froze – half in horror, half in shock – at the scene before her. Draco Malfoy sat slumped into his mother, sobbing forcefully, as his father stood over the two of them with a look of defeated grief on his face. A woman she did not recognize sat with a blue bundled infant who was making a heartbreaking mewling sound that caused her heart to flutter in alarm.
Even though she had no proof, she knew deep down that Draco Malfoy had just lost his wife in childbirth. His torment and sorrow hit her like a ton of bricks, and she retreated at the force of the sensation and one hand moved up to cover her mouth as tears sprung to her eyes.
A Mediwitch seemingly appeared out of nowhere, hissing words at Hermione that her formidable brain did not process. Though she did process the annoyed and disapproving look on the witch’s face.
Go, she thought, I have to go.
With that, she fled.
*“Here Comes Good-bye” written by Chris Sligh and Clint Lagerberg. Performed by Rascal Flatts from the album Unstoppable. Released January 2009.
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