My Constellation--Dramione

Part 5

"'Mione, I'm so sorry, I didn't know!" she sobbed horrendously. Ugly cries were inevitable from the beginning and both girls held no remorse for indulging in them.

"Ginny, you weren't supposed to know," Hermione sniffed, clogging her nose more in the process.

"I'm just so sorry—I can't... I have no words!" she complained.

"I know."

"Hermione," she pulled away suddenly, trying to make out the form of her friend in the pitch darkness, "we have to tell Harry, or at the very least, Bill and Fleur. It could very well be the only way you get him back!"

Hermione's head shook sadly. "I can't do that. Even with Voldemort gone for good, that doesn't take away the prejudices that keep me and Draco apart. If his father knew of his half-blood son, he'd probably murder us both!" Ginny groaned, ready to sob even harder. "Besides, your family has grown too attached to him. I think he's found a good family that can love him without putting him in danger. I can't make those promises."

"But 'Mione, he loves you. Only you."

"He hardly knows me. Mother or not, he can't remember—"

"—I was talking about Malfoy." Hermione was shut up for the moment.

She gulped. "He couldn't help me. As much as my eyes begged him to stop the torture and rescue me, he'd have hell to pay if he made his feelings for me known," she whispered quietly.

"Malfoy has no idea, right? So how do you know—? What if he wants to be in this 100% with you?" Ginny didn't give her a chance to reply. "He said that 99% of futuristic possibilities sees him joining Voldemort's ranks. Well, he was and now, Voldemort's dead. What if he has a 100% chance of spending the rest of his life with you and Archie? What if he wants that, but you don't know because you're too bullheaded to realize it?"

A small smile grew on Hermione's tearful expression.

"Even if the chances hit only 1%, you need to try. You need to ask him to be part of the family you created—and that's another thing! You created a whole family without him even knowing!"

"We're not whole," Hermione disagreed.

"Well then, maybe that's what you can fix. Make the family whole again. You owe it to Malfoy, you owe it to Archie and you owe it to yourself." Ginny felt around the darkness and found Hermione's hand and gripped it right. "That boy loves you. Malfoy and your son. This is how you heal us—all of us."

Hermione shivered at the word "us." She knew she was loved by the Weasley family, she just never considered herself a major part of it. And she knew that since Bill and Fleur were taking care of Archie, everyone regarded him as their child, and a Weasley.

She suddenly laughed, "Imagine the look on Ronald's face when he learns that 'Archie Weasley' is actually a Malfoy."

Ginny started to laugh as well. "I can't wait to see that!"

"I think I can sleep tonight."

The girls stood up and lit the tips of their wands to find their way out of the cellar. When they slipped under their covers and began turning off their minds, Ginny spoke up. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Not okay. I want it to be better than okay. But no matter what, I think I'm strong enough to persevere. I have hope that I'll be alright in the end."

Ginny mumbled in agreement and fell unconscious. Hermione, however, didn't sleep a wink. Her mind was still focused on the wellbeing of her son and whether she should really tell Draco that she was still waiting for him like she said she would. Whether she should tell him she bore his son, his heir. It wasn't really a matter of whether she'd go through with it or not, but whether she'd chicken out and leave someone else to tell him. He'd be furious, she knew that much. But whether it was because she hid Archie from him or because he didn't love either of them, she wouldn't know until she told the truth. She strongly hoped it wasn't the latter.

Hermione would not go as far as to say her life had been ruined the minute Archie's existence became known to her, it certainly made life difficult, but the love she harbored made up for the constant stress. But she could very well have ruined Draco's life.

She scolded herself, she mustn't think along those thoughts. If Draco loved her, he would love Archie too.

She envisioned the scent of the infant. The formula he drank, his sun-dried clothes—the usual baby smells. But she also pictured his small body pressed against hers, sleeping. Emitting soft snores. Dreaming sweetly. She hoped he was thinking of her in his unconscious state.

Ginny was right. That boy loved her.