Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Rain	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 6555 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anyting associated with him. JKR does. I make no money doing this. I'm broke.

Chapter List
- 1-Rain
- 1
My muse is... gone! Oh my stars, she left me high and dry. I've been pounding away and nothing is coming out right. My brain is fried. I can't even enjoy a good book! UGH. Anyway, there was a rain storm tonight so I forced myself to sit down and use rain as a prompt. This is what follows. I'm not sure if it's any good or not, but here it is.

The freezing rain had long since soaked her to the bone, but she didn’t care, couldn’t really. How could she when her life was over? Hermione Granger, smartest which of her age, resident know-it-all of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry, had nothing. The war was over. The light won of course. Harry got the girl. Ron got his coveted fame. And she… she got nothing. Her parents’ memories were well and truly gone. Hogwarts was ruined. She had no money, no house, no future.

She stared into the night, wishing that it would just swallow her whole. Normally, she didn’t feel this miserable, but tonight… tonight was special. Tonight was the night she’d made the choice. Oh how she wished she could go back and change things. Then again, she relished every moment of it. To feel his expert hands running over her skin, hear his sinfully deep voice describing his inability to stay away.

Now he was gone.

It was her sixteenth birthday when she gave herself to Severus Snape. He protested until the minute he’d broken her maidenhead in a fit of lust as they sat by the lake enjoying the rain. Then he was hers… well and truly hers until his very last breath. Every moment he wasn’t berating himself for his weakness in falling for a child, he spent worshiping her in every way he knew how. She was treated to rare books, long discussions on potions theory, rigorous DADA training, and mind blowing sex.

She closed her eyes and he was there, reaching out to her one last time. His throat had been viciously torn open by Nagini. There would be no saving him. She saw the same scene in her nightmares. He reached towards her after Harry had taken the memories, willing her to come closer. She bent down, eyes blurry from unshed tears and brushed his blood soaked hair from his eyes. The rain dripped down her unruly locks onto his quickly paling face.

“I… love… you,” he whispered with his dying breath.

Those three words haunted her still. She’d told him every day how much she loved him. She reassured him that age didn’t matter, propriety didn’t matter, no one mattered… but him. He’d never returned those words… until it was too late.

She opened her eyes, not wanting to replay the scene again. She ran her hands over her protruding abdomen. Four months. It has been four months since that fateful day, the one time they hadn’t been careful. They both knew what was coming. She’d lagged behind Ron as he raced to help Ginny battle a troll. A hand shot from behind a tapestry, dragging her behind it. She struggled only a moment before she recognized the familiar scent of sandalwood.

She’d always known he was innocent but no one else could know. It killed her to agree that he was an evil bastard but it was for his own safety. In that alcove though, it didn’t matter. Their coupling was short, frantic, and absolutely beautiful. It was their last, and she was left with only a memory. At least, until she found out that she was pregnant. She hadn’t stopped crying since. In a way, she was happy. She’d always have a piece of him, but then again, she’d always be reminded that he’d never be there to see his child.

Harry was the first one to figure it out. She’d run to the bathroom one too many times for him not to be suspicious. He was always more attuned to her than anyone else. He held her hair back as she emptied her stomach for the third time that morning. He helped her clean up and then carried her to bed before climbing in beside her.

“It’s Snape’s,” he said quietly, laying his hand on her abdomen.

She burst into tears. “How?”

“His memories,” Harry sighed. “There were a few of you two together. He did love my mum Hermione… but… he loved you even more. He told Dumbledore the night he had to… you know. He said that he would win this war… if only to make sure you would never be in danger again. He loved you so very much.”

Hermione had cried long into the night, alternating between begging Harry not to tell anyone and raging against the world that her lover was gone. Harry stoically held her through it all. He offered her Grimmauld to stay in but she had no illusions. Once everyone found out who the father of her child was, she’d be shunned. She hardly cared, but she couldn’t let Harry take the fall for her too. So, she’d thanked him profusely and respectfully declined.

Her teeth were starting to chatter. She was losing feeling in her fingers. Soon, she’d have to seek shelter. She’d have to swallow her pride and beg Harry to let her stay at Grimmauld… just for the night. She’d brave Ron’s wrath because if she stayed out any longer, she’d lose the last link she had to Severus.

Ron. She tried to move on. She really did. She’d liked Ron once, even as more than a friend. But after Severus, he paled in comparison. She’d tried to let him down gently, but Ron never took anything gently. And Harry, poor Harry was left as a mediator. In the end, she’d decided to bow out gracefully so Harry wouldn’t have to make a choice. Ron had become a playboy after that. More power to him. She hoped it made him feel better about himself. She hardly cared anymore, but the loss of his friendship was a bitter pill to swallow.

She tried to get up from the rickety bench in the middle of the desolate park, but her legs wouldn’t hold her weight. She’d been still too long. The cold had long sapped the energy from her bones, what the despair hadn’t anyway. But she had to move… for Severus. She’d promised him that she’d move on if he died. He’d had no illusions about the war. He knew his time was up. But it hurt. It hurt so badly sometimes that she could scarcely breathe. How cruel, to move on and live when he hadn’t had a real chance.

She collapsed on the ground in a heap. She didn’t even care what she looked like to passersby, not that there were many at this hour. Still, if she didn’t get off the ground, she’d lose the child. She had to move, but she lacked the strength. Ironic, the girl most famed for being a strong heroine with more brains than the lot had allowed self-pity to compromise her health.

“Are you daft?”

She managed to turn her head to the side to see who was addressing her in such an outraged manor. Really, who immediately accuses a person in need of being daft?

“Pardon?” she managed to rasp.

“I said, are you bloody daft?”

Hermione squinted through the rain and gasped in shock. Never in her life did she think she’d see the person standing before her ever again. She thought he’d skipped the country. And no one blamed him. He had nothing, no money, no house, no future. They really did have quite a lot in common now. She laughed at the irony and only laughed harder when outrage stretched across his pale pointed face.

“Merlin, Granger. You’ve finally cracked.”

“Looked in any mirrors lately Malfoy?” she managed to retort. “You’re speaking to a mudblood.”

Malfoy growled and hauled her off the ground none too gently. He grunted when her legs collapsed under her, barely managing to push her back on the bench before she sank back to the ground. When he finally got her situated, he huffed and cast an impervious charm so the rain would stop pounding them. Then he cast a warming charm. It felt like thousands of tiny needles all over her skin.

“In case you didn’t notice Granger, the war ended four months ago. Nobody cares who I talk to anymore.”

Hermione snorted in amusement. “But you do.”

Malfoy sighed and plopped down on the bench beside her, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It reminded her so much of Severus that she wanted to cry… again. Instead, she concentrated on studying Malfoy, what little of him she could see. He was dressed head to toe in black, another similarity to the man she loved. Then she remembered that the only other person that Draco Malfoy ever looked up to besides his father was Severus Snape. Perhaps he felt just as lost as she did. Malfoy’s face had aged a decade in the past year. His once sharp features had become more chiseled, though he was pale as a ghost. The dark circles that formed under his eyes in sixth year hadn’t seemed to have gone. He looked… haunted. It was a feeling she knew quite well.

“Granger,” he finally sighed. “It’s late, it’s raining, it’s bloody cold. Just this once, please shut your mouth and come with me. I promise I have absolutely no intention of harming you. I’ll swear a wizard’s oath on it.”

Hermione was struck dumb. Who was this boy… no… man, for no teenager could have escaped the war and not have grown up? The very thought of him helping her was laughable but she had to know why. She had to know what drove him to seek her out, or even have stumbled upon her, and offered his aid. So she asked.

Malfoy growled slammed his hand on the bench. “Damn it Granger, can’t you just accept it? Here.” He lifted his wand in the air. “I, Draco Abraxus Malfoy, swear that I have absolutely no intention of harming Hermione Jean Granger in any way.”

Gold light swirled around him, evidence that the oath had taken place. Hermione’s jaw dropped open in shock. She had to be dreaming. Draco Malfoy, pureblood bully, had not just taken an oath to put her mind at ease. Besides, how in the hell did he know her middle name? Was she dead? She looked around, hoping that maybe she had passed on and Severus would be standing there, waiting for her with open arms and a rare smile on his face. No such luck though.

“He’s not coming back,” Malfoy whispered suddenly. “He’ll never come back.”

“How-“ She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. It was all she could do to keep from blubbering like a moron in front of her childhood nemesis.

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably. “Severus told me… the night we ran from the Astronomy Tower. I… I switched sides that night, though no one knew it. I spilled my bloody guts to him, told him everything I knew and everything I learned after that. I just wanted it to be over. Before he died… he… he made me swear an Unbreakable Vow. I have to protect you… no matter what.”

Tears rolled down Hermione’s face and she missed the rain. It hid her weakness from the world. But this… how could this be possible. “Why would he? Why would YOU?”

Malfoy shrugged. “He loved you. And… I loved him.”

“Wait, what?”

Malfoy snorted. “Not like that Granger. He was… he was more of a father than my bloody excuse for a father ever was. He took me under his wing, kept me from getting killed. He protected me even when I cursed him for it. He… he meant the world to me. When he told me that he didn’t think he’d live….”

“When?” Hermione cried. “When did you take that vow?”

Malfoy smirked. “The night before the war.”

Hermione felt like she’d just fallen off the bench, though she knew her arse was planted firmly on its splintering seat. She’d always wondered how Malfoy had shown up and saved her during the war. It seemed that every time she’d gotten into a bit of a pickle, he’d been in the way. The Room of Requirement, when it caught on fire, he was there trying to talk Crabbe and Goyle out of casting the killing curse. He’d shoved her out of the way of a falling stack of furniture, though she thought it was to save himself at the time. He’d done it for Severus.

Her throat constricted. “He knew.”

Malfoy nodded. “He always knew. He said… well, he said that he made you promise to live, but he wasn’t sure that you would. He said I should force you if you refused to move on. I decided to stay in the shadows. That actually worked to my advantage. It’s easy to walk around when no one knows who you are. Anyway, I saw you push your friends away. And now here you are, trying to bloody well kill yourself by hypothermia of all things. Are you really that fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid!” she shrieked. “I just… I just…” she started crying again. “Two years ago today, it was the first time we….”

Malfoy heaved a sigh. “It’s no reason to kill yourself Granger.”

“I’m not trying to kill myself,” she growled through clenched teeth, though they were still trying to click together. “I just wanted to think a little. I didn’t realize I had gotten too cold until it was too late.”

“Merlin’s beard woman, you are a bloody witch!”

She sniffed. “Umbridge would beg to differ.”

“Umbridge can go fuck herself and whatever Centaur happens to be in the vicinity. Now, come on Granger, let’s go. I’ll not die just because you want to.”

He held out his hand for her to take and she just stared at him, wondering if she’d stepped into another dimension. Malfoy, Draco bloody Malfoy was offering his hand… to help her. Maybe she had cracked.

He stamped his foot impatiently. “What now Granger?”

“You really would force me to live, wouldn’t you?”

He pursed his lips. “I wouldn’t have taken the Vow if I wouldn’t, now would I?”

“Why?” she demanded.

“We’ve already covered this, or is your mind addled further than it should be?” he snapped. “Because he loved you… and I loved him.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, noticing the stiffening in his shoulder and the tightness of his jaw. “There’s more.”

He stared at her for a long minute before nearly exploding. “I owned him a fucking life debt, alright? He kept the Dark Lord from killing my sorry arse and I owed him for it. I repaid it with the fucking vow. Are you bloody well happy now?”

She sniffed and reluctantly let him help her to her feet. “That sounds more like the Malfoy I know.”

He gave her a mock bow. “Glad that it pleases her highness. Now, if you will.”

He motioned for her to take his arm but she refused. She hadn’t even been to a healer yet. She had no idea if it was safe to travel by apparation when pregnant. She didn’t know anything and it made her furious at herself.

He sneered at her. “What NOW Granger?”

She frowned at his tone. He might have vowed to protect her, but he hadn’t said he would be nice about it. “I can’t apparate.”

“Why the bloody hell not?”

She gulped and reflexively placed her hand over the tiny bump, rapidly growing evidence that Severus Snape still lived in some small way. That he had at least one accomplishment, one truly pure thing that could be attributed to his name.

“Merlin’s hairy left testicle,” he gasped. “What the bleeding… of all the… why in the… FUCK!”

“It wasn’t planned,” she found herself explaining quietly. “We were always so careful… but the war had already started and… and we didn’t have time to care.”

Malfoy’s normally emotionless face twisted a dozen times before he finally managed to smooth it out and sigh. Shaking his head, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along beside him, muttering as he walked down the street. His boots made a squelching sound as they tromped through the thick grass in the park. She tried to keep up, thankful that he had cast the warming charm and she could feel her legs. But she was tired, so tired. She decided to focus on something else, Malfoy’s angry muttering. It was quite amusing.

“Of all the bloody stupid things, all the fucking warnings he spewed: never forget contraceptives Draco. Never forget the spell Draco. Never impregnate a woman who isn’t your wife Draco. You don’t want a kid when you’re still a kid Draco. And that sodding bastard went and knocked his lover up and then up and fucking died. What the fuck am I supposed to do with a suicidal brainiac and a forbidden love child? How the fuck did the brightest witch of the fucking age end up, up the duff, and by the most hated man in the fucking wizarding world. Bloody hell. Why me?”

Why him? Hermione saw red when he uttered that last bit. Him? She was the one that would have to live with it. He only vowed to keep her alive. That wasn’t very damned hard. It was her who would have to carry the child in her body for the next five months, her who would give birth alone, raise the child alone, be alone. It was her would have to explain that daddy was dead, he wouldn’t be coming back, her who would live with being shunned, the humiliation of being an unwed mother if she stayed in the wizarding word. That bloody ferret wouldn’t know hard if it bit him in his pompous arse!

The last thing she saw before the ground shot up to meet her were the concerned silver eyes of one Draco Malfoy.

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The snow made it difficult to travel to the rickety wooden bench and she found herself wishing for rain. Then again, being eight months along was doing a number on her coordination. She felt like a whale and waddled like a walrus. Still, she had to be alone this day. It was his birthday today. He had no grave that she could visit. In the end, they’d laid his body to rest beside Dumbledore’s. He was considered a hero now, a rather shady one. It was Harry who’d had him exonerated posthumously, Harry who insisted on having his portrait hung in the Headmaster’s office in the newly rebuilt Hogwarts.

Good old Harry, the only other person who was still talking to her besides Malfoy. Ron had finally thrown his cards on the table, forcing Harry to choose between him and Hermione. He’d been completely unreasonable when he’d spotted her rather large bump. She’d always thought Ron too lazy to keep up with his math, but he’d quickly calculated exactly how far along she was. He was none too happy about it either, even though she hadn’t divulged the father. He’d ranted and raged and come so dangerously close to striking out in his anger that Malfoy made his presence known.

Malfoy, the one person no one ever expected to stick up for Mudblood Hermione Granger. In fact, he actually went so far as to curse anyone who dared utter the word to her. She thought he might have been taking his vow a little too seriously, but he wouldn’t be swayed. She didn’t mind that part though. In the months since he’d found her, half drowned and nearly frozen on the very same bench she waddled to now, they’d struck up a strange friendship.

She collapsed on the bench, exhausted from the trip. Malfoy’s flat, yes, muggle flat, wasn’t but a mile or so away from the park but to a pregnant woman in the middle of winter, it felt like half a world away. She breathed in the crisp air, heartbreakingly fresh in the early moments of dawn. It was days like this she missed him most. Malfoy had taken her to see his portrait when it was unveiled. She’d told him of the child and they’d both wept for what could have been. Then he’d told her he loved her and ordered her not to come back until she had well and truly moved on. Even his portrait wanted her to let go, though she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Malfoy had stayed in the room long after she’d been sent away and had exited with suspiciously red eyes. She’d made no mention of it. They’d long passed the point of picking at each other by then.

The baby kicked with such enthusiasm that she winced. The little bugger was a strong one, she’d give it that. It, because she didn’t want to know the sex. Malfoy had somehow managed to find a good Healer willing to work for sickles. Neither one of them had much to their names. His fortunes had been seized by the Wizengamot for crimes against the wizarding world. Hers had gone with her parents. They both worked feeble jobs in the Ministry. He was a glorified secretary for the Magical Law office, she a paper pusher in the Magical Creatures department. It wasn’t much, but it was the best they could do, and she was grateful for it.

She watched the sun rise and wiped away tears that threatened to freeze on her face. What a sight she was, heavily pregnant and blubbering… alone. She felt Malfoy’s presence long before he said anything. He merely sat beside her and watched the sun play against the fallen snow. He always seemed to know when she needed silence, solitude, or quiet company. Today, she wasn’t sure she could be alone. Nor was she sure she could speak. So Malfoy obliged, only moving to conjure a cup of strong Darjeeling when he noticed her shivering.

“38,” Malfoy whispered when she’d finished her cup.

She nodded. “And far too young still.”

It was his turn to nod. “Have you decided on any names?”

She looked at her stomach and rubbed the large bulge, sighing when the baby shifted. “Since he struck down his own name, I find myself at a loss.”

“Despite the fifteen baby name books you have littering my flat,” Malfoy said with a smirk. “Which you should probably just move into, since you stay there every night.”

She lightly smacked his arm, still a little shocked at how familiar they had gotten. “Cheeky git.”

“Merely pointing out the obvious.”

“Well don’t. It’s beneath you.”

That made him grin. “You said it… not me.”

“Touché,” she sighed, still saddened though he had managed to lighten her mood. “I just can’t seem to find the right name. They are either much too plain or much too fancy. Honestly, how on earth can you name a child of a man named Severus Tobias Snape something as mundane as Mark, John, or Samuel?”

“Mmm, a rather good point. I suppose that’s why our family names us after the stars. Who could call a constellation mundane?”

“Narcissa is not a constellation, nor is Lucius.”

“Mum’s name was a bit of an odd duck, though she is named for a flower. And Lucius means light. Suppose grandfather couldn’t think of a good celestial name for him. Then again, perhaps he foresaw the coming of the equivalent of muggle Satan and named him accordingly.”

Hermione couldn’t help but frown at his bitter tone. “Malfoy, when are you going to forgive him?”

Malfoy’s face turned red. “Forgive him? You want me to forgive the man who damn near got your friend killed with a book? Perhaps you want me to just excuse the fact that he tried to kill Potter when he set a house elf free? Perhaps I should absolve him of the crimes he committed against you… or perhaps the muggle world at large? You want me to forgive the man who tortured his own son, forcing him to serve a mad man against his will for something as stupid as blood purity?”

For each sentence, Hermione’s eyes widened further. She wondered if he were in danger of actually combusting. She knew he harbored some very angry feelings for his father, but she had no idea he had that much hatred built up for him. It made her re-examine everything she thought she knew about Malfoy. Perhaps this new Malfoy that she’d come to know in the past few months was more the real Malfoy than all the years she’d known him at school. Maybe there was more to him. She’d like to find out more, but for now, she needed to talk him down.

“You don’t have to forget Malfoy,” she said quietly. “Forgiveness, in this case, is more for yourself than for him. You have to forgive yourself first and foremost.”

Malfoy seemed to crumple before her as he lifted the sleeve of his cloak, baring the Dark Mark that was burned into his skin against his will. “I can’t forgive myself. I can’t help but wonder… if I’d only stood up to him. What if I’d decided not to be so pliant, so bloody stupid, would things have been different? Would Severus still be alive to see his child grow up?”

She felt tears prickle behind her eyes. She’d asked herself that same question a million times a day. If she’d just been stronger, stood up to Harry and Ron when they accused Severus of such awful things, would he still be here? Would they have tried to help him? Would everything be different? To find that Malfoy had the same feelings, it made her heart melt just a little. It made him human, something she wasn’t sure he was.

Malfoy cleared his throat and vanished their cups. “Come on Granger,” he said gruffly. “It’s bloody freezing and you’ll catch your death and then I’ll catch mine.”

She snorted and allowed him to help her up. He always did that, said something truly touching and then fobbed it off on his vow. He made sure he mentioned it whenever he did something nice. He wanted her to know that Draco Malfoy only did nice things because he was forced to. Thing was, he couldn’t fool her. Under all that posturing and ice, there was a heart. For the first time in a long time, she found a goal. She was going to discover what made Malfoy tick if it was the last thing she did.

That thought only lasted a moment before a sharp pain caught her in the back. She doubled over and squeaked, shocked by the ferocity of the pain. Malfoy went to his knees immediately, his hands steadying her until she could stand upright. He looked more panicked than she felt. The baby wasn’t due for another month. Another wave of pain hit her. The last thing she saw before the white ground came up to meet her were the concerned silver eyes of one Draco Malfoy.

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Rain pelted the window as she stared out into the street from her prison… er, bed. The last few weeks had been horrendous. Hermione Granger did not take kindly to bed rest, but she had no choice. The baby wasn’t quite ready to come when she’d gone into early labor on Severus’s birthday, though it would have been quite ironic for his child to have been born the same day. Still, it wasn’t safe or healthy and she refused to rush it.

Therefore, she’d been put on immediate bed rest and a list of potions that made her head spin. Malfoy had decided to make her potions because they couldn’t afford readymade ones. She felt guilty, lounging in bed all day while he worked his arse off. He put in a full day at the Ministry and then came home, fixed them dinner, and brewed potions well into the night. Each time she saw him, he looked just a little more bedraggled, a little more beat down. She wished she could help somehow but she couldn’t. He’d even charmed her bed so she couldn’t move except to answer the call of nature.

The steady cascade of rain against the glass panes lulled her into a trance. She remembered a happier time, one when a man with stark black clothes and hair to match smiled at her as she perfected yet another spell that would protect her. He rarely smiled, but when he did, his eyes lit up like suns. She wondered if her child would have those eyes. She hoped they had his hair, though she could do without the nose. She chuckled, thinking about how much he hated it. She thought it was adorable, though she could hardly imagine such a protrusion on a child.

Her mind drifted to another place, one just a week prior. She thought of Malfoy more and more as the days passed. He’d proven himself time and time again, tending to her every need and chastising her for breaking Healer’s orders. Even when he was so tired he could barely stand, he still had a cheeky grin and a witty retort for her. She found herself comparing him to Severus more and more. He had the same sense of humor, dry and a little self-deprecating. He wore all black, though she wondered if that wasn’t because he was still in mourning. He was a wiz at potions and when he let his guard down, he was quite sweet. He also had a sharp tongue and a staggering intellect that he didn’t let many people see, unless he used it to insult someone. Yes, very much like the man she loved.

Then again, he was also very different. There was pain in Malfoy’s eyes, but Severus seemed to wear it in his whole body. Severus was still strong until the very end, but she could see his strength dwindling. Malfoy though, she’d seen the way he just kept going. She imagined Severus like that, but quickly realized that Malfoy was different. He’d turned his back on everything he’d known where Severus had willingly stepped into the arms of a mad man, though he later regretted it. It didn’t make either one of them the better man, but it said a lot about Malfoy’s character. Severus had allowed pretty words and promises of power to sway him where Malfoy had dug in his heels and turned. She respected him for it.

“You awake?”

Hermione blinked, realizing she had just about drifted off. Malfoy was standing at the door, loaded tray in hand. His shaggy hair was still dripping wet. She almost choked when she realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His trousers were soaked and clinging to him in all the perfect places. Her eyes were drawn to his chest and the long silvery scar in the middle of it, Harry’s sectumsempra. Other tiny scars littered his fair skin, though they didn’t detract from his chiseled physique.

Malfoy cleared his throat. “Sorry, didn’t have time to change. It’s time for your potion and you have to take this one with food.”

Hermione couldn’t help the look she gave him. The vial on the tray looked like cat sick and it tasted worse. It was the one keeping her labor from progressing and she hated it above all others. She wished she could just have the damned baby already. Malfoy snickering at her didn’t help matters either. She shot him a dirty look before sitting up higher. It gave her a chance to make sure there was saliva in her mouth again after witnessing him in so little. She berated herself for her roving eyes. It had been a while since she’d had sex, but it hadn’t even been nine months since Severus had died and she was already thinking about it. No. That wouldn’t do.

“Don’t look so glum Granger. I bought your favorite, fish and chips.”

She couldn’t contain he squeal as he sat the tray down before her. He really had gone through all the trouble of going into London and finding her favorite chip shop, Nelly’s. They had the best cod, flaky and not nearly as greasy as other places. The fries were crisp and salty and the mushy peas were the best. Her mouth watered in anticipation.

“Thank you,” she whispered reverently as she lifted a chip to her mouth.

Malfoy chuckled. “I figured you’d need a pick me up today.”

She cocked her head. “Why today?”

He frowned and looked out the window. She noted that the rain had slowed to a drizzle now. What wasn’t he telling her?

“Don’t suppose you read the Daily Prophet then?”

She snorted. “I try not to upset myself with that trashy rag.”

“Rightly so,” he said quietly. She hadn’t noticed that he’d had a second tray for himself. She watched as he sliced his cod into a precise square before delicately chewing it. So proper, even with take away. It almost made her smile, but she had to know what was bothering him.

“What is it Malfoy?”

He sighed and put his fork down. “Seems as though your little weasel friend has gone and gotten himself hitched.”

She frowned. She wished she’d known, but that was hardly depressing news. Perhaps he would get over her and they could be friends again. Something on Malfoy’s face made her think that thought was perhaps a pipe dream.

“And?”

“And… he gave an exclusive interview with one… Rita Skeeter.”

“Oh, that blasted bug,” she hissed before viciously chewing a chip. “I should have squashed her when I had the chance.”

“Then you’ll love this next part,” Malfoy said dryly.

“Oh Merlin, what else?”

“He let slip your… condition.”

All the blood drained from her face. Great. Now everyone would know. There would be no charms to hide behind anymore. But she knew this was coming. She would just have to push through it. It would be even worse when the baby was born. A magical birth certificate didn’t exactly beat around the bush when it came to listing parentage. She cleared her throat.

“Well, I suppose I couldn’t hide it forever. Even concealment charms and privacy vows fail.”

“No, but Skeeter’s like a dog with a bone,” Malfoy said sadly. “Unfortunately, she picked the right bone to dig up.”

“No,” she whispered, dropping her fork.

Malfoy sprang up from his chair and sat beside her on the bed, throwing his arm around her for support. “All she has is speculation. Her theory is that the father was a Death Eater and that’s why you won’t say who the father is. She hasn’t pointed fingers… exactly… but Severus’s name was mentioned. It’ll only be a matter of time.”

They sat in silence, picking at their meals as the rain picked up again. It seemed to reflect the mood. Malfoy was right. The fish and chips did make her feel better. However, when she went to drink the potion, a sharp pain hit and she dropped it. It broke on the tray as she doubled over. Malfoy was quick to vanish it and offer his hand.

“This is it, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

She managed to nod, trying to breathe through the pain.

“I’ll get the Healer.”

“NO!” she yelled as another pain hit her. “Don’t leave me.”

“Granger, I have to.”

“NO!” she screamed.

“Granger, Hermione, listen. I’ll only be a moment. I’ll be right back, promise.”

She reluctantly let go and sat back against the bed. He’d called her Hermione. True to his word, he was back in a few seconds, her Healer on his tail.

“Now, Miss Granger, let’s see how far along you are.”

“I’ll, er, step out,” Malfoy muttered.

“NO!” she screamed. She didn’t want to be alone for this. It might have been inappropriate, but she didn’t much care at the moment.

“Just slide in behind her,” the Healer said calmly. “This will only take a second.”

Malfoy’s cheeks were pink as he climbed in bed behind her, taking care not to jostle her. She laid her head against his bare chest as the Healer ran diagnostics and checked her progress. Tears fell down her face as the Healer informed her that she was indeed in labor and too far along to move to the Hospital. All she could think of was how much she wished Severus could be there and how glad she was that Malfoy was.

Labor was hell. Even with the numbing spells, she still felt every contraction. She cried and screamed and cursed Severus Snape to hell and back all the while wishing he was there. Malfoy stayed with her the entire time, whispering soothing words, wiping her brow with a cool cloth, and running ice over her parched lips. He was an angel and she was glad he was there.

“Alright Miss Granger, it’s time to push.”

The first push nearly made her pass out. How could something so large fit through something so small? She was in agony. Malfoy reached around and held her hand, instructing her to grab as hard as she needed. She feared she was breaking his hand but it helped. Push after push, he encouraged her and she made a little more progress.

“The head is out!” the Healer exclaimed and she had never felt so tired in her life. “Just a little more.”

“You can do it Hermione,” Malfoy whispered. “Come on. One more time.”

She cried and let out a mighty scream as she pushed. She felt the shoulders slip out and she collapsed against Malfoy’s chest. With bleary eyes, she watched the Healer clean the baby’s airway and cut the cord. Her heart was pounding so hard she almost missed it.

“It’s a girl!”

Everything else faded away as the tiny little bundle was placed in her shaking arms. She was thankful Malfoy was behind her to steady them. Eagerly, she counted ten beautiful fingers and ten lovely toes. Her daughter was perfect… and she had a shock of thick black hair just like her father’s. She opened her eyes, revealing deep blue eyes that Hermione hoped would turn dark before scrunching her nose up and wailing like a banshee.

“Merlin Hermione,” Malfoy groaned. “She’s got your lungs.”

Hermione chuckled and looked out the window. The rain had finally stopped, revealing a beautiful rainbow in the sky. She felt that the heavens had shined down upon her in that moment and she knew what she’d name her little blessing.

“Rain. Her name is Rain.”

“I quite like it,” Malfoy said, reaching around her to caress the baby’s soft cheek. “But you might want to feed her before I start calling her Hurricane Snape.”

“Draco Malfoy, you will not call my daughter Hurricane Snape!”

He chuckled. “Well, for fucks sakes, feed her. She’s going to bring the sky down.”

Hermione ignored Malfoy’s blush as she brought her shirt up and encouraged her new daughter to latch on. It was a frustrating few moments but after a couple of tries, Rain was suckling strongly. She felt rather light headed. Sparks danced before her eyes. The last thing she saw before the world went dark was the concerned silver eyes of one Draco Malfoy.

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Rain made her already frizzy curls almost unmanageable as she pushed the tiny pram down the main street of Hogsmeade. Draco, yes, he was Draco now, kept pace, his eyes darting back and forth, ever wary of danger. He’d been a little overprotective of her since she’d passed out after Rain’s birth. The Healer had said her placenta had ruptured and caused too much blood loss. It was easily fixable as a witch but she would have been in very bad shape had she been a muggle. Ever since then, Draco had hovered. How could she call him Malfoy when she saw him change her daughter’s nappies and sing her lullabies?

“Is the charm still holding?” he asked gruffly.

“Honestly Draco, she’s fine. Besides, I rather think she likes the rain.”

He snorted. “Just like her bloody mother. I happen to know that her father absolutely hated rain.”

“He hated everything period,” she snorted.

He sighed. “Except you.”

“And you,” she said softly. “He always held out hope for you, you know. I’m sure you’ve done him proud.”

He blinked fiercely and gave her a curt nod. She couldn’t help but love that about him. He was such a hard egg to crack, but she thought she might have found the start. They were headed to Hogwarts to show Severus his daughter. Harry had insisted, even though it made things tense with Ron. Ron had calmed down a bit since he’d gotten married, but it made it hard. The other Weasleys had stayed away out of respect, but she could see from the way they stared at her longingly that they wished it could have panned out differently.

The walk through Hogwarts was more painful than she thought possible. Everywhere she looked, she saw a reminder of her youth, of Severus. He was everywhere, in the walls, the floors, the paintings and the statues. This was his home. Before she left, she would need to place flowers on his grave. She felt a hand at her back and sank into it. Draco, always offering her exactly what she needed.

She had to admit, there was another reason she wanted to visit Severus’s portrait. She did so want to show him their daughter. Rain Iris Granger Snape was the most beautiful little three month old in the world. She was so much like her father it was almost painful. A stoic child who hardly cried or fussed, she had a beautiful smile… for only a handful of people. She’d made Harry her Godfather, which made Draco a little testy but she had a reason for that too.

She wanted Severus to know that she was ready to move on… and she knew just who she wanted to move on with. Draco hadn’t thought she’d heard him late at night as he chatted with her daughter, but she had. Her ear to the door, she’d heard him pour his heart out.

“Hello little Rainbow,” he’d always greet her. “What a pretty girl you are, just like your mother. Did you know that when your mother was little, she had the most horrid teeth? One day, I accidentally hit her with a hex and they grew down to her chin. Then your daddy, he was very naughty and told her he didn’t notice a difference. Your poor mummy ran to the mediwitch crying. The next day, she came back with the most beautiful teeth I’d ever seen. I knew then that I was in love with your mummy, but she didn’t love me back. But we mustn’t blame her for that. I was a wanker, I was. Instead, she fell in love with your daddy. And I have to say I am glad she did little Rainbow, because they made you and you are the most wonderful little creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. I only hope that your mummy doesn’t wise up and get rid of me.”

Hermione had felt her heart constrict at his confession. He’d loved her since he was little but Lucius had beaten it out of him. She wanted to hex the bastard herself but her thoughts were drawn up short when Draco continued speaking.

“Can you keep a secret little Rainbow? The truth is, I didn’t owe your daddy a life debt. In fact, he owned me one. He was frantic, your daddy was, knowing that he wouldn’t be here to see you. I told him how I felt about your mummy, not knowing that they were together. He made me promise to watch over her because he knew how much I loved her. He knew I’d never let anyone hurt her. There is no Unbreakable Vow little Rainbow. If your mummy died, I’d be alive, though I wouldn’t want to be. No little Rainbow, we must never tell her. She’d get rid of me for sure.”

Hermione had battled with herself every day since. She felt guilty because despite his deception, she was falling for Draco. It had rocked her to her core. Severus had known the entire time and he’d made Draco promise to look after her. Draco was never forced. She couldn’t believe it, the key to his heart, and she stared at it in the mirror every day.

“Ah, Miss Granger,” Headmistress McGonagall greeted her as she walked through the door. “Lovely to see you again.”

“Headmistress,” she rasped.

“Come in,” McGonagall bade. “Come in and let me see this little angel. Oh, Mister Potter is quite over the moon for this little one, I must say.”

Hermione watched as Draco canceled the impervious charm on the pram and gently lifted her daughter from it before carefully handing her to the Headmistress. His eyes never left her daughter’s face. He was quite smitten with her. She only hoped he was telling the truth, that he truly loved her.

“Oh my,” McGonagall choked out. “She looks so much like her father, though she has your nose.”

Hermione almost fainted. “You know?”

McGonagall smiled softly. “Of course. Albus never could keep anything to himself.”

“Bleeding old coot,” Severus’s smooth voice drawled from behind her.

“Hush now,” McGonagall snapped. “And look at your lovely daughter Severus.”

Hermione brushed tears from her cheeks as she watched Severus take in his daughter with a look of awe upon his face. Draco covertly slipped her a handkerchief which she gratefully took to dab at her eyes. After several long minutes Severus nodded and stood back up.

“She is quite acceptable.”

“Acceptable!” McGonagall gasped in outrage. “Severus Snape, you cad. That’s all you have to say?”

Severus growled. “I’d say a great deal more if I could be alone with Miss Granger.”

“Fine,” McGonagall snipped. “Mr. Malfoy, if you care to join me in my study. I have a lovely tea and I sense that this little one needs a new nappy.”

Draco nodded and grabbed Rain’s bag, trudging after his old Transfiguration professor and the little girl that he loved as his own. Hermione watched with trepidation as the door swung shut. Was she truly ready to do this? Could she give up the man who was painted before her? It was silly. He was only oil and canvas and a charm, but it was better than nothing.

“Your face betrays your thoughts Hermione,” Severus drawled. “And you are foolish to entertain such a notion.”

Hermione frowned at him. “Could you possibly blame me for thinking on it?”

He sighed and sat in the chair in his frame. “I’m afraid not. I’m most certain I thought those things before my untimely demise, which I apologize for again.”

She sighed and plopped down in the chair behind McGonagall’s desk. This conversation might take a while, or at least take the wind out of her sails. It was one thing to think about her situation, another to act upon it. She hadn’t felt this lost since she’d learned that she was pregnant.

“I told you not to visit unless you were ready to move on.”

She sniffed. “You never were one to beat around the bush.”

He quirked a brow. “You never were one to evade a question.”

“It’s not easy, you know, moving on.”

“No, I can attest to that. It took me twenty years. I hope it won’t take you that long.”

She bit her lip, trying to stay the tears.

He sighed. “There is no shame in moving on Hermione.”

“It’s only been a year… a year to the day actually.”

He closed his eyes and nodded before training those black orbs on hr. “Then it is the best day to do so. This day marks a change in your life. It is only fitting to make another one.”

“But… but you’re not even cold yet.”

“Nonsense,” he snapped. “It’s been a year Hermione, an entire year. I can assure you that I’m little more than dust.”

“Please don’t say that. You’re more than dust. I see your bloody face every day.”

“Yes, she is rather lovely, just like her mother.”

Hermione huffed. “You and Draco, I swear. She looks nothing like me.”

“Ah, Draco is it?”

“Yes you miserable bastard, and you knew it too. You exploited it, manipulated him into a promise.”

“I did no such thing. I merely begged a favor. One he was all too willing to oblige.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Do you return his feelings?”

“I don’t know!” she snapped. “I… I think… I think I might.”

“If?”

She growled. “Damn you’re keen and penetrating mind.”

He hissed. “Do not quote that arrogant mutt to me!”

“Get over it!” she snapped.

“Answer the question!”

“If I moved on, damn it. Alright? I could if I let myself.”

“And what is stopping you?”

She couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “What if I lose you?”

Severus sighed. “Would that I had arms. My precious Hermione, I went through the same struggle with Lily and you. I feared that if I allowed myself to love you, I would inadvertently lose her. But I took the chance, and I’m so very glad I did. You see, when you chose to love another, you do not lose your first love. You merely gain another. It will be different, but in a good way. We never forget those we love, but if we don’t allow ourselves to love again, we’ll never truly be happy.”

Hermione took in his words and mulled them over for long minutes before she finally nodded her head. “You always were brilliant.”

He smiled, a rare smile reserved only for her. “No Hermione, you taught me that one all by yourself.”

She smiled through her tears. “I love you Severus Snape, but I believe it is time to move on.”

“I love you too Hermione Granger. And I give you my blessing. Please… bring little Rain back to see me often?”

“Of course,” Hermione whispered before blowing him a kiss and joining McGonagall in the study.

The first thing she saw when she entered were the concerned silver eyes of one Draco Malfoy.

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The rain was relentless as the little family fought through the crowds at King’s Cross stadium.

“Mum, hurry up. I promised father that I’d have tea with him before the sorting ceremony,” Rain Snape yelled.

“And how do you suppose you are going to do that?” Draco drawled as he pushed his daughter’s cart along.

“Aunt, erm, Headmistress McGonagall promised I could. Besides, I’m a third year. I don’t need sorting again.”

“It would be nice if you were to watch your brother sorted,” Hermione chided.

Rain rolled her coal black eyes and tossed her straight hair over her shoulder. “We all know Scorpius is going to be a Slytherin. What’s the big surprise?”

“Hey,” Scorpius growled. “I could be different.”

Rain quirked an eyebrow, looking so much like her father Hermione had to choke back a gasp. “Really. And I suppose it wasn’t you who decided to set up a lemonade stand right outside Uncle George’s joke shop the day he was testing out fireballs and charging people a galleon a glass.”

“It was good business,” Scorpius pouted. His blond locks fell over his silvery eyes as he shuffled along behind his sister.

“You’re Slytherin to the core, admit it,” Rain taunted.

“Why do you care anyway?” Scorpius huffed.

Rain shrugged. “I don’t. Father was a Slytherin. Daddy is a Slytherin.”

“But mummy is a Gryffindor,” Scorpius whined. “And you’re a Ravenclaw and we can’t all be smarty pants.”

Rain smirked at him. “So be a Hufflepuff.”

“You take that back!” Scorpius shouted and the two raced through the train station at top speed, yelling insults at each other.

“That’s not attractive,” eight year old Rose said quietly. She clung to her mummy’s hand as they trekked through the station.

“Certainly not,” Hermione agreed. She couldn’t help but grin at her daughter. Rose was a stunning little girl with amber eyes and platinum blonde ringlets.

“Come loves,” Draco said softly. “We’ll be late.”

“Not sure I can go much faster,” Hermione said with a grimace. “Heavily pregnant women can’t outrun pre-teens.”

“Rain is thirteen,” Rose announced. “That makes her an official teenager.”

“You don’t say?” Draco baited his daughter.

“I do say,” Rose huffed. “And she won’t let me forget it either.”

Hermione and Draco chuckled happily as they helped their kids load up. They watched Scorpius as he extended a hand to James, Harry’s oldest son, and offer his friendship, though they’d been playing together since they were in nappies. Hermione didn’t miss the hitch in Draco’s breathing when James eagerly took it and patted Scorpius on the back.

“Mummy,” Rose said softly. “May I go play with Albus today?”

“I don’t see why not,” Hermione said with a smile. “I’m sure Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny wouldn’t mind. Why don’t you go ask?”

“Why Mrs. Malfoy,” Draco drawled. “Trying to fob our daughter off on the Golden Boy?”

“Well, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione whispered. “I thought it the perfect way to get some… alone time.”

Draco’s eyes sparkled as brightly as they had thirteen years ago when she’d told him that she’d decided to give him a chance. He’d immediately kissed her and then pulled away, his cheeks a rosy pink. Now she was happy she’d chosen to move on. Draco had made her very happy indeed and she loved him just as much as she loved Severus, a different love, but a happy one.

She relished his chuckle and turned her face to the sky as the rain fell on her face. She’d come to adore rain. It brought about the most extraordinary things in her life.

Yeesh, you'd think I was training for an academic decathlon My mind is practically goo right now. Anyway, for those of you reading who are reading my other WIP, Fooling Fate, a new chapter WILL be posted Monday if it kills me. And it might. Anyway, enjoy this little one shot. Drop me some reviews, feed the muse, and all that rot. Until next time... Love you guys!
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Rain