Ending The Sacred Twenty-Eight (Dramione)

Narcissa Continues

Eight days later

Another day, another morning greeting the toilet with her breakfast.

Hermione had had to force herself to go to work that morning, flooing straight from her living room into her office at the Ministry.

She had woken up terribly nauseated, the only thing that stayed down her stomach was chamomile tea and a couple of salty, crisp flat biscuits - and she hated those.

What a day that was shaping up to be.

But as Hermione stepped out of the fireplace, she found her office already occupied by someone she now, unexpectedly, considered a friend.

"Narcissa!" She exclaimed, suddenly not so dejected anymore. "Good morning. Sorry I'm late."

"No need for apologies, dear." The elegant blond woman stood up and hugged Hermione warmly. "How have you been this past week?"

"Nauseated." Hermione admitted, going to her chair. "And tired."

"Both normal symptoms."

"I know. That's what my doctor says."

"Doctor?" Narcissa frowned, a look of horror taking over her face, "You mean to tell me you're seeing one of those muggles that cut people up at hospitals and not a proper healer at St. Mungus?"

"They do not randomly cut people up, Narcissa." Hermione laughed. "I want to do things the muggle way. At least for now."

Narcissa clenched her jaw, clearly disapproving that idea. She couldn't believe that the witch carrying her grandchildren was being cared for by doctors that had to open people up to see what was going on with them and not by a healer that could properly care for her and the two precious magical babies inside of her!

"I'm fine, Narcissa. And so are my babies. If anything strange happens I'll immediately disapparate to St. Mungus."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Hermione said, not sure why she was reassuring Narcissa about her choice of medical care.

"Alright." Narcissa sat back on the chair in front of Hermione's desk, her expression of reluctant acceptance reminding Hermione of Draco's whenever she made him try some new food and he resisted.

"I brought you something." Said the blond woman, putting a fancy paper bag on the desk. "For the babies."

Hermione recognized the name of the expensive clothing store that bag had come from.

"You didn't need to." She said, almost afraid of touching it.

"I wanted to."

"But that store, Narcissa... I know it's not a cheap place."

"Of course it's not!" Narcissa exclaimed with a scoff. As if I'd buy cheap anything for my grandkids! She wanted to tell the witch in front of her, but held her tongue. "It's impolite to mention the price of a gift, Hermione." She motioned the bag. "Come on, open it!"

Hermione sighed and pulled the bag closer, reaching inside to pick up the individually wrapped baby clothes.

"Oh, my God!" Hermione exclaimed as she unwrapped the first one and saw the cutest little princess dress.

She kept on unwrapping them and gasping at each one. There were ten outfits total, five for each kid.

Hermione fell silent when she unwrapped the last one: a small suit and tie with tiny soft shoes imitating dragonhide. She wanted to cry as she imagined her little blond baby boy dressed exactly like his prissy father.