~Asphodel~

Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. This fiction is purely for my own enjoyment and yours. No money is being made by me or anyone else from this fiction.

.

.

.

.

"Enervate,"

Hermione blinked against the bright light of the room. She was in a small bed with white cotton sheets. A hospital bed. Had everything with Malfoy been a dream? She certainly hoped so.

"Madame Pomfrey? Professor?" Hermione's voice cracked and she heard a titter of laughter from the foot of her bed.

"Oh no, dear," a sweet, girlish voice said. "My name is Marnie , and I'll be your Assistant Healer today."

Hermione tried to sit up. "Who-Wha-what? Where am I?" she said, looking around. She was in some sort of hospital room. Odd equipment and screens lined the far wall. This wasn't like any sort of hospital she'd ever been in, yet she kept feeling an odd sense of deja-vu and thought it was similar to the way she felt earlier when speaking with Rilla and the little girl.

Marnie put a light hand on Hermione's shoulder, forcing her to lie back down. "Just relax, Mrs. Malfoy. You've had a few fainting spells, so your husband brought you straight here. Just sit tight, Healer Lee will be here in just a moment to examine you and make sure the baby is okay."

Hermione choked. Panic returned. It hadn't been a dream. It was real. "Baby?" she squeaked.

"I'm sure everything will be fine, Mrs. Malfoy, said Marnie soothingly, ignoring Hermione's flinch when called "Mrs. Malfoy."

"I'll just send Mr. Malfoy in, dear. He is most anxious to speak with you," Marnie said with her reassuring smile that did anything but reassure Hermione. A fresh wave of panic and confusion washed over her. Baby? Husband? Mrs. Malfoy? Mr. Malfoy? For a wild moment Hermione thought Lucius Malfoy would stride into the room, but the tall blond man who entered was not the menacing Lucius, but his son, Draco.

He smirked when he saw her. "Relax, Granger," he drawled, seemingly taking pleasure in her discomfort. "Or should I say, Mrs. Malfoy?"

Hermione's eyes darted to Draco's left hand and she prayed to all the powers at be she wouldn't see a ring there. Draco caught her line of sight and held his ringed finger for her to see. "Yep, it's official, Granger. We really are married."

"Damn." The word escaped Hermione's lips before she could stop it.

Draco raised his eyebrows and a cruel but amused smile played about his lips. "It's not like I'm jumping for joy here, Granger." The smile slipped from his face. "I wonder how long we've been married?"

"At least four years," said Hermione promptly. He looked at her incredulously and she blushed. "I-" she started, then cleared her throat. "We must have been," she said a little tentatively. "I mean, Naomi is four years old."

Confusion covered Draco's face. "Who is Naomi?"

Hermione looked away. "She's our daughter," she said.

Draco snorted, and she turned back to him. "That can't be-" Draco broke off, sudden realization and shock blooming on his face. "She is," he said slowly. "I don't know how I know, but-"

"You just do," Hermione finished for him. He looked at her with the same look of panic she had given him when he entered the room.

"And we have another daughter. A two year old. Her name is-"

"Evanna," Hermione nodded, and looked down at her stomach. "And apparently we have another one on the way…"

There was a sharp intake of breath from Draco. "No," he said. Hermione looked up, startled by his vehemence. He was staring at her stomach with horror. "No, you-you can't, we didn't, I wouldn't…"