Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Three Conditions	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 48512 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the HP universe. JK Rowling does. I just borrow her toys and put them back in reletively decent shape when I'm through. I make no money doing this, which is why I work two jobs.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
“Your brother-in-law is here,” Mariama, the wife of the elder said quietly.
Hermione looked up from Snape’s potion journal with a start. Sure enough, Malfoy was there. “How did you know?”
Mariama laughed. “I have seen many white men in my life, but never one quite so pale. It is just as your husband described, like the moon.”
Hermione nodded and closed the journal. She only hoped Malfoy had enough sense to keep his wand holstered and his words cryptic. If he jeopardized Harry’s position in the tribe, she’d murder him herself. They hadn’t risked Harry’s life for a month just to watch the stupid father of her baby ruin it. In fact, maybe she could just kill him now before he could fuck anything up. Just as she was trying to figure out a way to separate him so she could off him, he bowed respectfully to Mariama’s son Ade.
“Thank you,” Malfoy said quite reverently and motioned to her. “May I speak with my brother’s wife?”
It took everything she had not to let her jaw drop to the floor. Not only had he been courteous, he’d stuck with her story. He hadn’t made an arse out of himself and he hadn’t put her or Harry in danger. A stone of guilt settled deep in her belly. She should have told him from the very beginning. Hindsight really was 20/20. Merlin how she hated it.
“Hermione,” Malfoy purred, bowing his head respectfully.
“M-Draco,” she said cautiously. Harry had never said the name of his brother when she’d been there, but she wasn’t sure what he’d said elsewhere.
“You’ve grown big,” Malfoy said, his eyes zeroing in on her stomach.
She could see the hurt and the awe as he took in the sight of his son growing in her womb. The focus of his attention immediately started doing gymnastics. She was such a bitch, but it was a little late to grovel now. What was done was done. There would be no going back, only forward. Hopefully, by the time her son was born, this whole mess with Harry would be done and they could work out the kinks. But she wasn’t leaving before then, so Malfoy had better get used to the village.
She put a hand on her stomach and smiled sadly. “He’s very active. Would you like to feel?”
He nodded and hesitantly stuck a hand out. She grabbed it and put it on her stomach, right where the little future quidditch star was trying to kick a hole through her uterus. Malfoy gasped, his eyes tearing up at the feeling of his son writhing around trying to make his presence known. His hand followed the movement over her stomach. A million thoughts swarmed her mind as the kicking and twisting slowly died down. The villagers couldn’t see it but Malfoy’s magic was calming their son, just as Snape’s had. In fact, she felt more energy than she had since this entire ordeal started. Snape had been right. And she wanted to smack the bastard for it.
“Does he do this a lot?” Malfoy asked as he started absentmindedly drawing circles over her stomach.
She nodded. “He’s always active unless Harry is laying his head on my stomach.”
He nodded. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
She bit her lip. Harry should be back any moment and she was anxious to see him. If he had been denied an audience with the area elders, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. She had Snape now and she could help him brew the potion. But they needed a special healer. If Snape was right, Harry wouldn’t heal with anything less.
Malfoy sighed. “When is P-Harry expected back?”
“He comes now,” Ade announced.
Hermione’s heart broke. Harry was being carried by Mwinyi, the elder of the village proper. Mwinyi was flanked by three of the council leaders of the village. She didn’t see anyone she didn’t recognize and she wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or not. Malfoy had immediately raced across the village to see him, though she wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or a flashback to another time where Harry lay lifeless in another pair of arms. She just hoped he was still breathing. Then she could, too.
“He is sleeping,” Mwinyi said softly as Malfoy skidded to a stop in front of them. “The journey was too much for him.”
Hermione bowed her head and walked as quickly as she could to them. She scraped tears off her face as she went. Sleeping, not dead. It was a small reprieve but it was something. She couldn’t hide her relief though and several of the woman reached out to lay a hand of comfort on her shoulders as she passed. She felt as if she’d just fought the war singlehandedly. She wasn’t sure she could take much more of this roller coaster, and she knew Harry didn’t have much more left in him. The wards coupled with the absence of the healing magic he needed were killing him much faster than anything she could have anticipated.
“One he has rested, he will tell you of our decision,” Mwinyi said softly as Hermione reached out to capture Harry’s hand.
Hermione nodded, knowing that it was pointless to try and press for information. In the Fang tribe, the women knew what the men wanted them to know. That might not stop her from casting an eavesdropping spell every now and then, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. So, she turned heel and followed the men to her hut. Malfoy followed, obviously trying to keep the surprise off of his face. After all, Hermione Granger had never backed down and simply followed orders.
Twenty minutes later, Harry was sleeping soundly in her hut under several blankets. His teeth were finally starting to slow their chattering and for that she was truly thankful. Malfoy had been blissfully silent the entire time, seeming to instinctively know when to keep his damn trap shut. Of course, now that they were alone and the shock had worn off, it wouldn’t be long before he started screaming at her. And that time looked to be right about then.
Malfoy pulled his wand and cast a subtle silencing spell, one that wouldn’t reverb and buzz in the tribe’s ears. He also cast a secondary bubble over Harry. She was strangely grateful that he’d done that. Harry desperately needed his rest. But this talk was going to take place no matter what so she shifted to her knees for a quicker escape. He did the same.
“So, are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on or do I have to start attacking your mind with legilimency.”
She sniffed. “Good luck, ferret face.”
He smirked. “You didn’t say that when I was balls deep inside that hot little cunny of yours.”
She blushed to her roots and then cleared her throat angrily. “Enough. It’s that other brain of yours that got us in this mess in the first place.”
Malfoy sighed and sat back on his heels. “It takes two, Granger.”
She closed her eyes in pain and nodded. “I never planned on this. You must know that.”
Malfoy snorted. “Of course not. It took every trick in my impressive arsenal to get you in my bed. I’d hardly think you’d want to tie yourself to me in any way on purpose.”
She sighed and rubbed her stomach. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was just so scared. And then Harry…”
“How long has Potter been sick?”
“The end of the war,” she said softly, looking over to her grimacing friend. “Rebuilding Hogwarts fed the cancer and sped up his… well, it took away at least three years expectancy. They gave him three years but since we’ve been here, he’s fading so quickly.”
Malfoy frowned. “Why is that?”
She sighed. “There are some extremely powerful wards erected around this village. I couldn’t feel them at all, but I was told they were there. Harry was supposed to avoid all magic because his core feeds off of it. There’s also the fact that I can’t make all of his potions here. The villagers might get suspicious because most include spells cast in addition to the brewing. And I certainly can’t give him the healing treatments he desperately needs. Some days it takes everything I have to sustain the baby.”
“I could have helped,” Malfoy snapped. “Did you truly not trust me enough to do that?”
She sighed. “I’ve met your father, Malfoy. He tried to kill my best friend for freeing a house elf. What would he do if he found out you’d procreated with a mudblood?”
Malfoy scowled darkly. “Don’t use that word. Merlin, woman. Do you not think I could outsmart my father?”
She quirked a brow. “Says the man who was preparing for a loveless, sexless marriage by finding the mistress first.”
He smirked. “Can’t blame a bloke, can you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please be serious.”
The smirk turned into a frown. “I am being serious, Granger. I wanted you for years and when I’d finally had you, I couldn’t give you up. I could have kept this… us… a secret for the rest of my life. If it’s one thing I’m good at, it’s being secretive. But if we were to go public, well, you could imagine what would happen. I don’t really care about myself. I made my bed and I’ll lie in it. But reputation is a fragile thing. You had so many offers and I didn’t want to take that from you.”
She sniffed. “You wouldn’t have gone public. Ever.”
He shrugged. “I thought that was a given. Bucking the system is something I’m not very familiar with.”
“Well, I’m familiar with it enough for both of us. But I’ll not drag our son into it.”
He nodded and held a hand out, silently asking for permission to touch her stomach again. She nodded and sighed when his hand spread over her abdomen. She’d managed to read a library full of pregnancy books in between her frantic searching sprees for cures for Harry. And while she’d noted the chapters that mentioned frequent contact with the father helped with energy, she hadn’t put much stock in it. She figured it was the blathering of the authors in an attempt to stop unwed mothers. But now, feeling Malfoy’s power flowing into her own, she understood. The child in her womb had two magical signatures combining into one. While she could do it on her own, his magic helped tremendously. It made her wonder how her mother had ever done it. But perhaps the fact that she had no magic to cling to in utero had made her stronger. Either way, she could appreciate the help now.
“I’d never let him come to harm,” Malfoy said fiercely. “This is my son and I’ll not shirk my responsibilities. Unfortunately, that will mean that I’ll be stripped of my title and fortunes. Well, some of them.”
She frowned. “Some?”
He grinned mischievously. “I am a Slytherin, love. Rest assured, my son will not want for anything. He won’t have quite the silver spoon I had, but he will never be destitute.”
She huffed. “I’d hate to know your version of destitute.”
He puffed his chest up. “He’ll never know life in house with less than six bedrooms. I’ll not stand for it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course. And I assume you’d like to raise him with house elves and minimal contact.”
He sniffed. “Certainly not. I’ll hold him until my arms fall off.”
“And the elves?” she asked tersely.
He took a moment to study her before he shook his head. “I’ll not do nappies.” She quirked a brow and he shook his head. “I won’t. I’ll love him and feed him and play with him and educate him within an inch of his life, but I refuse to do clothes or nappies.”
She sighed and shook her head. “I suppose it’s too much of a concession to ask you to leave the poor elves out of it?”
He huffed. “Granger, regardless of your ridiculous attempts to free them, elves don’t want the freedom. And the only elf I would trust with my son is my very own nanny elf. She’s a very kind and gentle elf and she’s bound to me by blood and rites. That means that she’s mine, regardless of what my father does. She’ll keep our secret. And Merlin knows we’ll need the help.”
She bit her lip and looked away, knowing that she wouldn’t get very far with him at the moment. She’d have to wear him down. And there was the fact that he had a point, though he didn’t know it. She’d be so busy with her apprenticeship under Snape that she’d barely have enough time for her sanity, let alone upkeep on a house. Maybe she could convince him to free it in time but for now, she at least needed a concession of some sort. She didn’t want her son raised by house elves.
“You promise you won’t just hand him to your nanny elf to rock him to sleep if he gets colic or you can’t be bothered with him.”
Malfoys haughty look disappeared. “That is how I was raised, Granger. I can’t say I had a happy childhood. Indulged, yes. But happy, not truly. I’ll not have my son grow up like I did, craving his father’s attention and trying to gain approval by any means necessary. I want him to know that I love him, regardless of whether he does exactly as I wish.”
She blinked back sudden tears and nodded. “Just as long as we’re in agreement there.”
Malfoy nodded. “Completely. But there is still the matter of… everything else. I’ll not be cut from his life. You want to stay in Africa, that’s your prerogative. But my son will not be living in squalor without proper education or comforts.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I won’t even touch the education, Malfoy, because you wouldn’t leave this hut with all of your limbs if I did. This tribe might not live by your extravagant measures, but they do not live in squalor. They have what they need and that’s all they ask. How dare you condemn them for their lifestyle. They’ve been nothing but kind and generous to us.”
“Funny,” he hissed. “They’ve seemed to cow you pretty easily. I’d almost believed you didn’t have a fucking backbone anymore. Tell me, could you truly be happy living in a societal structure where women are second class citizens?”
She sat back on her arse. Malfoy wouldn’t try anything other than flaying her with his words and that wouldn’t work. “What I do is none of your concern.”
“It is when it involves my son,” he growled. “What happens when he starts exhibiting his baby magic? Hmmm? They’ll burn him at the stake and you at his feet.”
“We’ll leave before then,” she said softly, knowing he had a point.
“And if Potter isn’t healed by then?”
She blinked hard and looked at her sleeping best friend. He was starting to stir, a sure sign that the pain was so bad he wouldn’t be able to sleep any longer. As the weeks passed, Harry dealt with more and more pain. It was as if she was watching him suffer a continuous cruciatis. Some nights, she’d taken to slipping a few narcotics in the few nutritional potions she could make just to take the edge off. But there was no skirting the truth. If the time came for her son to exhibit magic….
“He’ll be dead by then.”
Malfoy stopped rubbing her stomach and grabbed her arms, pulling her into his lap. She burst into tears, unable to hold it in any longer. She was reluctant to show emotions in front of the tribe. Women here were reserved, though they weren’t entirely straight faced. Still, blubbering was not looked upon favorably. This tribe had experienced hardship. Children and their mothers were lost in childbirth. Whole crops had been destroyed in bad weather. Men had been killed in battle and by the government in numerous spats. Waves of sickness had wiped out entire families. And yet the people persevered without hysterics. Grief was a part of life. She had learned a lot from them. But it didn’t help the ache every time she thought of losing Harry, the same she’d felt during the war. Only now, there wasn’t a greater good, just a senseless illness ravaging her friend.
“It’s weird seeing you crying and not hearing you.” Hermione immediately stiffened and spun to see Harry wide awake and looking at her curiously. “I take it he knows?”
She nodded and motioned for Malfoy to take the second silencing spell away before crawling beside Harry. “How are you feeling?”
Harry chuckled hoarsely. “Like cancer is eating my stomach.”
She grimaced and nodded. “What did they say?”
Harry smiled and grabbed her hand. “They’re going to do it. I… I’m not sure how, but they’ll help me. We’ll be moving to the new tribe tomorrow.”
She frowned. “We?”
He nodded. “We’ll be taken a back way where the tribe won’t see you so they can’t cause a fuss. But you’ll be needed to help brew the potion.”
“I know,” she said softly, rubbing her stomach. “Fortuitous that this little bugger came along.”
Harry chuckled. “About that. Malfoy?”
“Potter,” Malfoy drawled.
“Thanks for knocking up my friend,” Harry said lightly, though his disapproval was clear.
Malfoy sighed. “I promise you that was never my intention.” He reached over and rubbed Hermione’s stomach. “But you’re stuck with me now.”
“Good,” Harry said and then frowned. “The healer, Hermione, she’s a woman. She dresses in man’s clothes and had taken a man’s name, but she’s definitely a woman.”
“I figured as much,” she said softly. “The healer long ago was a woman, and Kothbridge was as well.”
Harry nodded. “Passed on through the female line then.”
“Lots of magical characteristics are passed on that way,” Malfoy said with a frown. “Very rarely will they pass genders. For example, most seers are women. Most who can wield Dark Magic enough to bend it are male. It’s not that one gender is more talented. It’s just how the magic passes.”
“So I can’t cast the spell even if I wasn’t pregnant,” Hermione said glumly.
Malfoy patted her stomach. “Sorry to break this to you, Granger, but I’ve got more darkness in my pinky toe than you have in your whole body.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, well. Now that we can heal the damage, I should go start on the potion. The base herbs need to be mixed for at least twelve hours before they’re even added to the liquid.”
“Wait,” Harry said, stopping her with a weak hand on her wrist. “We still don’t know how to cast that spell. Unless that’s why you called Malfoy.”
Malfoy threw his hands up. “Don’t look at me, Potter. I never learned the spell to create the potions.”
“I’ve got it covered,” Hermione said soothingly. “I just need Malfoy’s help to sustain the baby. I’ll probably pass out during the brewing.”
“What?” Both men asked in outrage.
She shrugged. “It’s perfectly safe as long as the father is there to lend magic to the baby while I’m out.”
“How-“ Harry started before Hermione cut him off with her hand over his mouth.
“Enough, Harry. You leave the details to me. Malfoy, I’ll need you to take me back into town before dark. I need a few more ingredients.”
“Wait!” Harry croaked as she hoisted herself up. “There’s one other thing.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Mwinyi wants me to go ahead and marry you off to my brother before I start treatment. He said he couldn’t let me go in good conscious without providing for my wife.”
“And if you make it?” Malfoy asked.
Harry shrugged. “I get my wife back, I guess. Or I can marry another.”
“And when does he expect this?” Hermione asked softly.
“Tonight.”
She narrowed her eyes. “How in Merlin’s name would you have pulled that off if Malfoy wouldn’t have come here?”
Harry sighed sadly. “He’d take you in his stead until you could send word.”
She blinked rapidly. “You’re joking.”
“You’d like to think that,” Harry said lightly. “Good job showing up, Malfoy. You’re just in time to marry.”
Malfoy paled. “Uh-“
“Oh, suck it up you wanker,” Harry said after he had a good chuckle. “It isn’t magically binding. It won’t even hold up in most muggle courts.”
Malfoy swallowed hard and nodded. “Wh-what all does marriage entail?”
“Consummation,” Harry said with a grin. “After a small ceremony of course.”
Malfoy smirked. “Now that I can handle.”

AN: Ba dum ching. :) Got to love that Malfoy deviousness. Anywhoo... I took a short sabatical to the mountains without electronics to try and destress. And I've missed my computer so much! But I've also actually felt like writing, so it's good for you guys too! As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed. My fingers itched during my vacation because I wanted to look back and read them all again. Keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys!
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Three Conditions