Marriage Law (Dramione) (Completed)

White Shoes

*Let's chat. I like making funny author's notes because I think I'm hilarious and I enjoy laughing at myself. I also like responding to comments because people on the internet are hilarious but it's hard to enjoy those comments when people demand updates. How many time do I have to say don't do that? I'll give you a warning and then if you do it again, I will mute you. I won't shame anyone but I muted a person last chapter and I'll do it again. Try me. Also try emailing the author of the Harry Potter franchise, JK Rowling. I don't know if she'll respond but it's worth a shot.*

Draco rolled over to wrap his arms around his wife but he only felt air. Hermione’s side of the bed was cold and the only remnants of her presents were wrinkled satin sheets. He sat up and looked around the room; she was gone. Draco knew Hermione was an early riser but three o’clock in the morning was early, even for her. There was a faint glow peering out from under their loo door and he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Draco quickly climbed out of their bed and made his way to the washroom. 

He lightly knocked on the door and called out to Hermione, “Love? Is everything alright?”

“Just go back to sleep,” Hermione responded, “I’m fine.” Her voice was soft, barely audible through the bathroom door.

After the incident, Healer Addams prescribed Hermione an experimental potion to help the lavender depart from her system. Even though Hermione took her last dose over six weeks ago, she still experienced symptoms. The potion came with a long list of side effects side effects ranging from fatigue, fevers, vomiting, and more. It was not unusual for Draco to find his wife camped out in their bathroom in the middle of the night but it still pained him to watch Hermione suffer.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Draco asked. When she did not respond, he sighed, “We talked about this. If you need someone to hold your hair back, I’m your man.” Draco heard a faint laugh and continued to charm his wife, “Love?”

“Draco I’m fine, I promise. You can come in if you want to but it is completely unnecessary.”

He did not need to be told twice. He opened the bathroom door and found Hermione sitting on the edge of the bathtub, staring off into space. Her bathrobe was wrapped tightly around her small frame and the worry on her face could be seen from a kilometer away. Draco stood in front of his wife and rubbed gentle circles on her shoulders.

“Hermione, I think we should go to the hospital.”

The proposition caught Hermione’s attention, “Draco I’m sure everything is fine. If I cannot keep my lunch down in a week, you can drag me to see Healer Addams. The potion was experimental, I knew that when I agreed to take it so we don’t know how long the side effects will last. They could be permanent. I could be infertile or-”

“Your test results came back with flying colors,” Draco interrupted, “Don’t say that.”

Hermione sighed, “I just don’t want to get your hopes up. It could happen again or the potion could have failed. Draco, we could end up in Azkaban because my uterus won’t cooperate.”

Yes, a looming doomsday clock hung over their heads but Draco had faith, “Hermione we have well over a year to keep trying. We’ve been trying but having a baby takes time. We cannot rush nature.”

Hermione rested her head on Draco’s shoulder and sighed, “We were so close.”

“I know. Don’t worry, it will happen.”

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“Come in.”

Hermione hated being interpreted especially at work. Translation required a certain amount of focus and the lack of sleep only made her job more difficult. No amount of pep up potions or coffee could wake her up enough to deal with intruders.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a familiar voice said.

Hermione looked up and came face to face with the President of MACUSA herself, “Madame President? To what do I owe the pleasure?” Hermione said, trying to hide her shock.

Whenever Hermione had a high profile visitor, she was warned first so she could prep whatever they needed if they did not speak English. This visitor in particular was an anomaly because she did not need Hermione’s skills nor did she tell Hermione that she was coming ahead of time. Hermione did not know if this was a good surprise or a rotten one.

The regal woman walked further into the cozy office and sat in front of Hermione, “Ms. Granger, I wanted to speak with you. If you have time, of course.”

“I can spare a few minutes and my last name changed, ma’am. I go by Granger-Malfoy.”

The older witch flashed Hermione a plastic smile, “My apologies. I just wanted to drop something off.” The woman waved her wand and a small, white bag appeared on Hermione’s wooden desk, “It’s just a little something.”

Hermione eyed the gift suspiciously, “I cannot accept this, Madame President.”

“I insist.” Hermione reached into the bag and pulled out two tiny, white muggle shoes, “I know children ruin white clothing easily so I put a dirt repelling charm on them.”

Hermione stared at the tiny footwear and tears pooled in her big brown eyes. She took a deep breath and put on a brave smile, “Thank you, but I don’t have any children.”

“I know but you will.” Hermione gave the woman a confused look, “There is a prophecy floating around,” The older woman explained, “One that involves your child and one of the Potter children changing the world. Knowing how bright you are and Mr. Potter’s past, there is no doubt in my mind that its untruthful.”

Hermione’s voice hitched, “I don’t understand.”

“In do time Mrs. Granger-Malfoy.”