An Indefinite Amount of Forever (A Harry Potter Fanfiction--Dramione)

Family

Hermione lay awake in her dorm. She had been awake for hours. With wide, horrified eyes, she stared at the ceiling.

Pregnant.

She was fucking pregnant. A Hogwarts professor. Shaping the minds of today's youth, tomorrow's leaders. Knocked up because she couldn't slow down for ten seconds to cast a contraceptive charm. An exemplary archetype of adulthood, she was.

She could have screamed.

She also, in that moment, could have committed at least voluntary manslaughter for a box of Ginger Newts.

Odd. She had never been particularly fond of them. But at the moment, she wanted to crunch through a barrel of those spicy little lizard-shaped biscuits.

"My baby is half-snake," she said aloud to herself. The thought made her laugh for some odd reason. It amused her that this tiny, developing, part-Slytherin fetus seemed to demand amphibian-shaped desserts. "Obviously, you did not inherit your father's snobbery."

She had accepted the fact that this baby was happening. She was still royally freaking out, as was her right. But she had at least come to terms with the fact that, ready or not, in eight months she was going to be a mother.

For about ten minutes, she had thought about an abortion. She couldn't help it. It was instinctual for her to run through her options, no matter the situation. But ultimately, she decided she couldn't do it. This wasn't the result of a fling. This wasn't your run-of-the-mill accident; the result of a one-night stand. This was her and Draco's child.

Was she ready to be a mother? No. But in her experience, preparation for a task (or lack thereof) wasn't necessarily indicative of its imminence or its unlikelihood of occurring. Had she been ready at seventeen to wipe her parents' memories and then set out to destroy the most notorious wizard in living history? No. She had not been.

And she had rocked that shit.

She sighed and rubbed her abdomen. "Are you really in there?" she whispered.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she felt the pangs of exhaustion finally overtake her. As she began to drift, she wondered if it would have Draco's blond hair. Her big, brown eyes? Would it be a reader, like both of its parents?

Knock, knock, knock!

Hermione's eyes flew open. She grumbled.

Knock, knock, knock!

"Alright, alright. I'm coming." She slipped out of bed and threw on a jumper that Draco had given her as a joke. It read, "Slytherins Do It In The Dungeons." It was kind of vile. But it made her laugh and kept her warm in the drafty Scottish castle.

She opened the door and was instantly shocked to discover a familiar intruder. "Draco?"

"Hi," he said, leaning against the door frame looking infuriatingly, rakishly handsome, despite the fact that he had obviously just rolled out of bed. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "My child."

Hermione froze for a moment. Oh. He means Scorpius.

Great. Pregnancy brain popping up already.

"I just got an urgent owl from the Headmistress. Scorpius and his mates were caught drinking on the roof of one of the greenhouses."

"What?"

"I know. Not his best moment. Longbottom caught them, apparently. Minerva wanted to wake you first, but I told her I'd do it myself. I thought one of us should be a bit more well-rested before we have to handle this."