The Mudblood & Her Alpha [Dark Dramione Omegaverse]

Epilogue

One Year Later

Draco

"You have got to be kidding me!" Draco walked in, prepared to dramatically slam the book atop the kitchen counter, before taking note of the two sleeping infants in Hermione's arms and faux-dramatically lowering it ‌to avoid waking them.

She raised an eyebrow at the textbook. It was one of the new ones she'd gotten for her next semester at Oxford. She'd read it three times already.

Introductory Organic Chemistry

"I have been studying Alchemy from Wizards who absolutely peaked in the 1300s, Hermione. The 1300s. Nicolas Flamel created the Philosopher's Stone in—"

"1382."

"Right." His hair was disheveled and he was pacing. "So, all the information I've been inhaling from these floppy-sleeved frail-fingered old wizards is absolute bollocks compared to this, and you knew about it the whole time." His accusatory glare caused Hermione to snort before she caught herself.

"He's really quite nice, Draco. You shouldn't talk about him like that."

"It's not about him. I'm sure he's lovely."

"And I thought you preferred a more. . . traditional? Style of alchemy practice. How would I know?"

"This book," Draco pointed for dramatic effect, "Has a formula for allllllll the shit I've been trying to make."

"Yes?"

"So I just open this—" Draco dramatically opened her book, "—And it tells me how many—" he glared down, "Protons?"

Hermione nodded.

"Are in the—" he checks the book again, "— Atomic nucleus?"

Another nod.

"Of gold. And then there are formulas for compounds?"

"Yes?"

"So if I just learn this muggle chemistry I can apply transfiguration to it and be the best alchemist to ever live?"

"I suppose so," she hummed.

"And you didn't think that would interest me?"

"I'd quite forgotten that wizards don't learn basic science and had thought it to be obvious. Now calm down, you'll wake the babies."

He kissed her, an adorable air of giddiness about him, collected the book, and hurried into their room.

—--------------------------------------

Hermione expertly juggled the two infants between her arms, bouncing her leg when one got fussy.

"Are you sure they're okay with this?" she called.

Draco looked up from the half-packed suitcase sprawled on the bed: diapers, formula, 'the twin's favorite play mat' according to Hermione- though he was unsure how they could have play mat preferences at only a few months old.

"Darling, I have never seen her more okay with anything. This upcoming week of babysitting is absolutely the highlight of her life." He wished he was being sarcastic, but his mother had taken to popping in their fireplace at random to declare she 'needed the babies now.'

"—Severus doesn't even seem to hate the idea," he added. "And he hates everything except her."

"I still think it's kind of uncomfortable," Hermione gnawed on her lip, standing in the doorway as she bounced absently.