Drawn ( A Dramione Story)

Sortez!

Late afternoon naps were greatly needed after the day they all had. Walking and shopping brought the tourists to their knees. Except Theo and Ernest, who were yet to return from their touring.

Unstoppable those two!

Pansy bought many outfits during her shopping trip. She, also, with the grace of a hostess, assisted Susan in choosing attire appropriate for teaching in China. They paraded their purchases with pride. Well, Pansy's pride.

Susan took to explaining how comfortable they were with a giant blush on her face when Pansy declared her the most eligible witch sure to find a lonely Chinese prince to dote upon her every desire.

Draco and Hermione passed out on the couch, snuggled together under an afghan. Walking the Palace of Versailles was no easy feat. The grounds were enormous. They'd cheated halfway through and taken a few potions to get them through without collapsing completely.

The other two witches were asleep in their own ways: Pansy, curled in a ball atop a rocking chair, somehow comfortable, and Susan stretched out in front of a sunny window, like a cat, after scarfing down an entire line of shortbread biscuits.

Things were still silent when Hermione awoke. She was drenched with sweat under a blanket and Draco's suffocating hold. As quick as possible, she eased her way out of the cuddle, careful not to disturb him and awaken the dragon, before she retreated to their loo to again obsess.

Obsess. Obsess. Obsess. It was what she did best.

Her feet paced in front of the toilet in a worried path worn by her trainers. There were no fingernails left to bite away. All the stray strands of her blouse were torn and picked away.

She was late. Two weeks late.

Hermione chewed her fingers as she checked once more. Nope. Nothing. She was still late.

Godric. Godric. Merlin, gracious Godric, what was she going to do?

Her parents, when they'd find out, would be irate. Sex before marriage was greatly condemned. Just to imagine telling them broke her out in violent sweat. It only took a minute of imaging the look on their faces when they found out to turn her palms to fountains. She raked them down her jeans.

Pregnancy with the Weasley's would be easy to announce. Harry would be thrilled. The entire world would cheer her on for repopulating the magical community so soon after a horrid war.

Always the perfect image of what all a muggleborn witch should be.

But the ignorance of her muggle parents would only bring on shame. They didn't understand. They'd think it too early, not thought through. She knew her father would lecture her on the shame it brought to their family to have a teenage daughter in a serious commitment so soon in her life. They might go so far as to force her to come home.

Then if that happened, Draco would lose his shit and her entire world would be in disarray again. After all the work she'd invested in getting stable, gone with one little sperm joined egg cell.

If only she'd been more careful!

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"There you are. I've been looking for you. Did you know they have room service in this building?" Pansy fluttered within the loo, her skirts swished as she walked. "Had I known, I'd have ordered tea. I'm famished."

Hermione clamped down on her finger a bit too hard. Red seeped from the flesh.

"Ah, bloody hell."

It raised attention from Pansy's manicure. She glanced at the witch and frowned.

"What are we panicking about?" A slender, lengthy hand reached out. It waited for Hermione to place her wound against the palm. Pansy muttered the spell and joined the wound up as best as she could so that blood no longer leaked out. The pain was still there. A throb in Hermione's hand as it trembled against her thigh. "Out with it. No secrets amongst friends, isn't that what you said?"