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Balaur	By : T-W-O Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 25216 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I own nothing of HP nor do I profit in any way from these missives. I almost own the laptop I'm writing this fanfic on, tho'.

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Balaur Baiat fought birth as he’d fought Hermione’s denial of Draco’s paternity.

Days of intense labor, only slightly mitigated by pain potions, brought the reality that control in this situation had always belonged to her son and would through this ordeal. Relief came when she’d surrendered to Draco’s magic and allowed him to care for her. Dependence descended on a woman more used to being relied on than relying on others, but circumstance and Hermione’s own brand of stubbornness established that she’d have to learn by experience this time.

“Don’t TOUCH me!”

“You need to walk, Hermione. It will help.”

“I don’t want to walk!” she whimpered, “I want it over!”

“I know, luv, I know you’re hurting. Let me take it down a notch for you.”

“Other women have children every day without their partners…”

“You’re not ‘other women’ and our son’s as stubborn as a Malfoy can be. Let me help.”

“Please, Draco… Please make it go away…”

For his part, having prepared for this event with his new outpatient mental Healer — Luna Lovegood Longbottom, Draco firmly secured his own trepidation in a mental “safe” in order to supply what Hermione required from him.

Thus he suffered, too, while getting Bali’s cooperation to go down instead of resisting. Crawling behind her, stripped to his boxers once again for skin-to-skin contact, Bali’s father whispered in Romani to his son, explaining the uncomfortable squeezing and how to end it for himself and his exhausted mother. For the first of many times, the child heard his father’s repeated admiration and affection for the brave woman (bracing herself against his chest) riding out 60 hours (so far) of non-stop cramping to push their son into the living world.

Draco rode it out with his partner, slathering his soothing muscle salve on her granite-hard abdomen while softly praising her strength at this time and in her decision not to abort the baby. He joked on occasion — telling her more than once that he hoped to grow up to be half the man she was — and she managed a single barking laugh while retorting that she’d be switching genders to avoid this happening ever again. The almost-new father got her up and moving when the baby’s cooperation improved and progress came faster but more painfully.

And when the child’s head crested the stretched aperture of his creation, he gave her back the confidence she’d loaned him — telling her over and over again that she’d gotten this far and was close to the success she always achieved.

She chose to give birth on hands and knees and he buttressed her as her arms and legs shook from the lengthy agony. Several long wails interspersed with grunts and the boy (all 14 and a-half pounds of him) slipped silently from her body and onto the bed.

“Here, Pa-pa. Cut the cord for your son so his Mama can rest,” Ivona instructed a shell-shocked Draco.

“Merlin, there’s so much blood! Is she going to be alright?” he asked, refusing to move from her side even to care for his son.

“No more than needed to keep this chubby boy warm and fed. Come! Finish his birth; I will tend to Vira. She’s done well by you, Draco. Be sure you do the same for them.”

“He’s not crying…” the now-anxious pa-pa noted as he snipped his son’s lifeline while Ivona cleared passageways and cleaned sticky stuff off of Bali.

“There is no need; he’s cried enough before coming. Take him while I see to his mama.”

“Draco?…”

“I’m here, Princess. I think you just delivered a Hogwarts first year. Better use that levitation spell or you won’t be able to lift him.”

“Is he?…”

“He’s fine. Just looking around.”

More contractions came along with the afterbirth and Hermione quieted, shuddering through the lesser (but still real) pain to complete the process. Mesmerized by the almost-clone in his arms, Draco missed the end of the ordeal.

“Let me see him, please.”

“You sure?”

“Why not? Does he look like you?”

“As predicted” the Slytherin smiled in undisguised pride.

“I suppose it couldn’t —” and Hermione yawned loudly before finishing, “be avoided. He’s probably hungry.”

“That’s a dead cert [sure bet],” Draco concurred as he returned to her bedside and transferred their son — diapered but otherwise as he was born — to her arms.

“He’s perfect, Hermione…”

“He looks like you!”

“As I said, ‘perfect’.”

Against her tender breast, Bali nuzzled until his mouth filled with the nipple spouting colostrum, the rich, thick “first” milk.

“What am I going to do with you, baby boy?” she asked quietly of no one — and Draco worried for the first time since he’d joined her in the farmhouse a lifetime ago.

…..

Thanks to magical medicine and youthfulness, her body had returned to its pre-pregnancy physical configuration post-partum —

— minus one hymen that had been left on the dining room table at Malfoy Manor.

When the pregnancy hormones abandoned her, happiness became an elusive emotion for a time.

…..

To ease her burden at Hogwarts (a decisive move her extended family begged her to delay — to no avail), Harry assigned Kreacher to protect her and the baby from those still smarting at losing the war or their preferential status (or both). This worked out to Bali being cared for by the most grouchy — but capable — nanny in the annals of Hogwarts. But even Kreacher had to sleep and Hermione had to study, so additional support — physical and emotional — arrived less than a week into her school matriculation. In the third bedroom, the man moved in who spoke truth to her from the day she’d been tortured in front of him in his stately home…

“Is he asleep?” Hermione asked, drained from trying to study while her infant wailed.

“Yeah, finally… This isn’t good for him.”

“You think I don’t know that!? I warned you this little ‘family’ disaster would collapse when the ‘happy hormones’ went away!”

“It’s not enough —”

“I KNOW that! He deserves a mother who makes him feel safe and loved and takes care of him! I’m TRYING, Draco!”

“It’s not enough to do this on your own; you need help.”

“So you’re leaving?”

“What the bloody hell gave you that idea!?”

“Why do I need more help? Mrs. Weasley and Ginny help out! Your mother, too. Kreacher’s here. You’re here!”

“Not that kind of help, Hermione… Get some sleep. I’ll stay with Bali tonight; you take my room.”

The first of Draco’s many reparations to her, in this new phase of both their lives, started with an unplanned trip to an unexpected place. On his own, Draco’d arranged a series of visits for them both to St. Mungo’s Post-War Trauma unit.

*________

AN:

DaFossil: Patience, my friend… I tend to structure stories/plots in a specific way for a reason…

Bella Princessa: As I thought I “lost” you after your comment on the two-paragraph chapter, I am unsurprised that my writing doesn’t meet your standards of quality. Your comment, however, DOES surprise me as I’d thought you’d abandoned reading this story before. As I noted to DaFossil, I craft plots in a very specific manner for a reason. There is no “missing” or “out of sequence” chapter (especially since this story has been essentially complete but in revision since Chapter 2). What will and won’t be revealed remains the choice of the author (as it is in all writing). You, as the reader, can exercise the choice to continue -or- not to continue reading it.

Meeshs Wand: The story is complete on my computer. It is undergoing its umpteenth editing and being posted ALMOST as structured (see my profile for my frustrations with AFF site apps). I expect it will be updated to COMPLETED within the week. Thank you for reading it anyway.
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