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It's Not Over	By : cpetnm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 70649 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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A.N. I’m en fuego (that’s on fire for you non-Spanish speakers)! I think we’re getting to the end of the story and that is exciting to me. Thank you for reading.

@Fotia- You are so right in your analysis of their relationship. I imagine this Draco doesn’t have a great concept of consequences. He operates within the confines of his upbringing, for the most part, but essentially he does what he wants.

@sherlocked17- That song perfectly describes my story! Thanks for pointing it out to me, because I’m still listening to Tori Amos and the Cowboy Junkies. ;)

@magi- I’m glad the last chapter touched you. I’m percolating an idea for Theo, but I’ll have to figure out how to make it work in the story.

Hermione made her way home after work, preparing herself to deal with Draco. She was in her bedroom changing when her stomach started to cramp.

Nerves, she thought. Her brief meeting with Draco at Gringotts had been stressful.

She made her way down the stairs to tell her parents she’d be out for dinner when a strong contraction had her gasping.

Merlin, I think the baby’s on the way. Must have been why I was nesting the past few days.

“Mum! Come here!” She leaned against the wall and took deep breaths.

“What is it, love…oh my God, are you going into labor?”

Hermione nodded. “I think so.”

“Your dad went out to get dinner for us. Let’s time the contractions. It will give your father a chance to get back and come with us to the hospital.”

Jean led Hermione to the sofa and bustled out of the room to find her stopwatch.

Draco thought Hermione was done working at 5:00. It was 5:45 and there was no sign the witch was coming over. Maybe she had changed her mind? It was a likely possibility.

By 7:00, he decided she had stood him up.

I’ve been such a bastard to her. She probably looked at my pathetic arse and figured she was better off going at it alone than with someone as cowardly as me.

At 9:00, Draco heard running coming towards his bedroom suite. Narcissa burst in and shoved a note in his hands.

“We’ve got to go, Draco. Hermione’s in labor!” She looked at her son, observing the glassy look in his eyes and the bottle of firewhisky on his nightstand.

“For the love of Merlin, drink some sobering potion and get yourself together!” she yelled. Draco had never heard his mother yell before, let alone at him. It jolted him into action and he ran into the bathroom to find a vial of the potion.

Narcissa and Draco sat in the waiting room. Richard Granger had greeted them politely and given them an update on Hermione’s labor. The disapproval from Richard was obvious, but the man was too kind to ruin the day with admonishing Draco. The three of them sat in the waiting room for several minutes until Narcissa broke the silence.

“Mr. Granger, might I go and look in on Hermione?”

Richard knew Mrs. Malfoy had gone with Hermione to several prenatal appointments and his daughter had expressed liking the witch.

“I’ll walk you over,” he said.

Draco wondered if he would be let in to see Hermione during her labor. One of Draco’s positive qualities was his level of comfort with the human body. Bodily fluids and damage did not disgust him. He had an affinity for healing spells. Professor Snape had urged him to consider a career as a healer, but as in all other areas of his life, Draco’s duties as a Malfoy superseded his personal desires.

Narcissa came back with Richard and Jean. Jean took Draco aback by giving him a quick hug.

“She wants to see you,” Jean said, pushing him towards the maternity ward. “Room 560.”

“Thank you,” he said, rushing to get to Hermione’s room.

When he walked into the room, Hermione was resting between contractions. Draco went to her bedside and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I suppose you had a good reason for standing me up,” he said, smoothing her ruffled hair into place.

Hermione gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “The baby’s magic is all over the place, Draco, and I’m worried the physical stress of delivering her and having my magic drained might be too much for my body. The healers are trying to keep me calm, but I’ve read about this phenomenon and it’s not always a positive outcome for the mother. But Lyra will most likely be fine.”

Draco felt cold. “What do you mean? Do you think you might…fuck…not make it?”

“I don’t know, Malfoy. But I want to make sure Lyra’s taken care of if something happens to me. My parents would do it, but honestly, they’re not at the right stage in their lives to have to start over with a baby. She’s your daughter and you’ll be a good father to her. I know you can do this.”

Draco was quiet. “Of course I’ll take care of her. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

He watched Hermione grit her teeth and moan as a contraction hit her. Taking her hand, he let her squeeze his hand until he was in pain. Tears leaked from her eyes when the ache finally ebbed.

“Let me get a healer so you can get a pain potion,” Draco said, standing to leave.

“No, Malfoy, I can’t take anything because of my unbalanced magic. It’s okay,” she assured him.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me about this?” he asked again.

Hermione bit her lip, her eyes welling with tears. “Please just promise you’ll take care of Lyra, okay?”

“Yes, yes, okay,” he murmured, stroking her arm.

She closed her eyes, trying to get a moment of respite before the next contraction hit her. Draco could see her abdomen moving violently under the thin sheet. Merlin, that must hurt.

“Will you get my parents?” she whispered.

“Are you okay?” he started to ask, but she had passed out. Her body began to spasm and stiffen.

“Help!” he yelled, hoping a healer would hear him because he couldn’t leave Hermione’s side.

A healer ran in, then shouted for assistance. Draco was pushed out of the way as the team worked on her.

“You need to leave the room,” a mediwitch instructed him. “We’ll give you an update when we have this under control.” She pushed him out the door and closed it behind him.

The Grangers and Narcissa sat unmoving after Draco told them what was happening. A healer came and spoke to them, explaining that due to her condition, Hermione would have a caesarean section to deliver Lyra. She was still unconscious and would be for at least several hours after the baby was born. Jean cried into her husband’s chest, while he stroked her back and whispered into her ear. Narcissa sat stoically, looking at her lap.

A few minutes later, a mediwizard came into the waiting room and told Draco since he was listed as the father, he could witness the c-section if he so desired.

“May her parents and my mother be there as well?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“Yes, if you authorize it, sir.”

“I do,” he said, pulling his mother to her feet.

“Let’s get you lot sanitized and in hospital gear. We need to hurry because the healers are ready to deliver,” the young mediwizard told the group, motioning for them to follow him.

Watching the c-section was both the scariest and most beautiful thing Draco had ever witnessed. His daughter came from Hermione’s uterus red and howling. A mediwitch brought the baby to Draco after the surgery and took the group to a room where she would be bathed and her vitals would be checked. He took a moment to admire the baby, Lyra, before handing her to Jean.

“I need to get back in there, to Hermione,” he told his mother, Jean and Richard before going to find the healer.

“Son, we knew this was a possibility. She wanted you to take care of the baby if something happened. You need to stay here with Lyra,” Richard said, handing Draco the tiny bundle.

Draco stared at her parents. “You knew this might happen! Why is this the first time I’ve heard how serious this is?”

Narcissa took the baby from him. “We all knew. But you made your wishes known to Hermione and she didn’t want to concern you unless it came to this. I’m so sorry, Draco.”

“I would have helped her if I had known! I thought she had everything under control, as she usually does.”

Jean wiped a tear from her left eye. “Hermione didn’t want you to feel obliged to help her. I know you two have had your differences, but if you care about her, please take care of Lyra. Richard and I will see to our daughter.”

The Grangers stepped out of the small nursery to learn more about the fate of their own child.

Narcissa held Lyra, gently tracing her tiny features with her finger.

“You’re perfect,” she murmured. “You can call me Nana Cissa, sweet baby.”

Draco paced the tiny room, feeling completely powerless and angry.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything to me, Mother.”

Narcissa looked up from the baby. “She made me promise not to. Hermione wants you to be with her of your own free will, son. She didn’t want you to be guilted into a relationship with her.”

He knew why she’d feel that way. Hermione knew Draco felt he had few choices in his life between being a Malfoy and a pure-blood and didn’t want to add to his load. What had he done in turning her away?

Draco’s mother watched the mediwitch bathe her granddaughter.

“Come here, son. She’s got the Malfoy mark on her thigh.” Narcissa pointed to a faint circle of freckles that would eventually turn into the ouroburos, then fade after her thirteenth birthday. Draco’s had been on his right shoulder blade and his father’s on the back of his left calf.

“She’s got Granger’s nose,” he said, peering at Lyra.

“Her fingers look like mine,” Narcissa observed, admiring the baby’s tiny hands.

The mediwitch handed Draco the baby. “I’m done checking her, Mr. Malfoy. You can press your wand to the button by the door if you need assistance.”

“Thank you,” he said, sitting in a wooden rocking chair. Lyra snuggled her tiny body into his chest as he slowly rocked back and forth, trying to keep her asleep.

Jean and Richard went back to the nursery to see their granddaughter.

“You can go sit with her if you want,” Jean told Draco. “She’s…she’s…” Jean let out a little sob.

“Same room as before,” Richard said. He looked older tonight, his eyes anxious and worried.

Draco thanked them and made his way to the room. Hermione lay in the white bed, her skin pale against her dark hair. A magical barrier kept him from touching her. A healer came in to check her vitals.

“When is she supposed to come out of this?” he asked the woman checking Hermione’s chart.

The healer sighed. “The coma can last anywhere from two hours post birth to indefinitely. Miss Granger’s magic was greatly depleted during her labor. She’s a powerful witch, but the baby needed a great deal of her magic. Your daughter will be a force when she comes into her magic.”

“Can I do anything? Anything at all?” he asked lamely.

“Sometimes a spouse can give his partner a magical infusion, due to the wizarding oath of the marriage vows or parents can transfer some of their magic to their child. But since Miss Granger is unmarried and her parents are Muggles…”

Merlin, I could have helped her if we’d been married. No wonder she didn’t want me to know about this. Hermione never would have accepted my offer of marriage after I abandoned her. I effectively signed her death warrant.

“Mr. Malfoy, you can spend another ten minutes here, but then we’ll need to clear her room for the night.”

“Okay,” he said, falling into the chair by her bed.

Two days passed and Lyra was released from the hospital. Narcissa and the Grangers arranged for some of baby things to be taken to the manor. Narcissa prepared the nursery for Lyra.

As if she knew she had been separated from her mother, Lyra became inconsolable. Jean and Richard held her for hours, but the baby would only stop crying when she fell asleep due to exhaustion. Narcissa walked the baby up and down the manor’s long hallways, but the crying did not stop. The only person who didn’t try to console Lyra was her father, who had taken to sitting at Hermione’s side for as many hours as the healers would allow. The Grangers had insisted on seeing to Hermione themselves, but the best they could get was Draco going to the hospital cafeteria for half an hour for a meal.

Five days later, Narcissa was at her wit’s end trying to tend to her granddaughter. The baby was now refusing the bottle and Narcissa knew this was dangerous for such a new baby. She dressed the crying girl and made her way to St. Mungo’s. Her first stop was Hermione’s room, to tell Draco what had happened with his daughter.

Draco looked up when the crying baby came into the silent room. “Mother, is something wrong?”

Narcissa rocked the baby in her arms. “The baby is inconsolable, Draco! Since last night she’s refused the bottle.”

Draco took in the wailing baby and his frazzled mother. “Let me hold her.”

Lyra’s quaking form let out a loud cry as she was transferred from her grandmother to her father. But when Draco held her to his chest and whispered in her ear, she began to calm.

“Do you have her bottle?” he quietly asked his mother.

Narcissa nodded and got it out of the baby’s bag. Draco held her head in the crook of his arm and swiped the nipple of the bottle over her lips. Lyra hesitated for a moment before beginning to suckle. Narcissa watched in awe as Draco tended to his child with a naturalness that belied his princely upbringing.

“Wind her about half way through,” she advised her son. He nodded and sat in the chair next to Hermione’s bed.

The baby hungrily sucked at her bottle, but after a few minutes her eyes were drooping and she was nodding off.

“Oh, thank Merlin, Draco,” Narcissa said, tiredly sitting in the chair by the window. “I couldn’t get her to relax the past few days. You’re very good with her, son.”

“I wonder if the hospital would let me take care of her while I sit with Hermione.”

“Magical children often need to ‘borrow’ energy from their parents the first few weeks of life. I thought as her grandmother I would be able to help her, but it appears she needs an actual parent.”

“I’ve never heard of that, Mother,” Draco said skeptically.

“It’s been relegated to an old wives tale, but I noticed when you were a baby you’d be horrid for the nanny, but an angel for me.” Her face grew remorseful. “Your father used to go to you when you’d fuss at night. You’d calm right down.”

Narcissa got up. “I’ll go talk to someone about getting permission for Lyra to be here. It will give you an opportunity to bond with her Draco. She’ll need you.” If her mother doesn’t pull through, Narcissa thought at the end, but didn’t have the heart to say to her son.

Pansy held Lyra. A former Slytherin housemate, a quiet, older girl, worked as a mediwitch and had confided to Pansy that Hermione Granger was in the hospital with Draco Malfoy keeping vigil at her bedside. Pansy thanked the girl for the information and had gone to see her old friend as soon as she could.

“She’s beautiful, Draco. Lyra’s the best of you both.”

Draco murmured his assent. He had quickly realized how much work it was to take care of an infant. Lyra slept a lot, but when she needed her nappy changed or wanted a bottle, he had to act immediately. Even with his heart heavy over the woman lying in the hospital bed, he had fallen in love with his daughter. He stared at her when she slept, memorizing her features, watching her pouty pink lips inhale and exhale.

“Will you make a birth announcement in The Prophet?”

“With everything going on, I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“You’ll have to excuse me, but I’ve been spending so much time with the Gryffindors that I find myself speaking more frankly than I ever have. After your father’s funeral, it was obvious to everyone that you were ignoring your ties to Granger. If you don’t announce the birth of your daughter, Lyra will never be thought of as a true Malfoy. It’s bad enough that she was born out of wedlock.”

The wizard scowled at her. She was right. Pansy knew the society they grew up in as well as he did and her suggestion was absolutely what he had to do.

“Do you have a photographer I could hire?” he asked.

“Let me take care of it, Draco. The announcement will be perfect.”

“Thanks, Pans,” he said, taking his beautiful daughter from her.

He noticed the large ruby engagement ring on her finger. People, he found, were never what he expected.
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It's Not Over