My Constellation--Dramione

Part 12

After things had calmed down and no one had had the courage to speak up for at least fifteen minutes, Ron spoke up. "So... who's the dad?"

Hermione had just collapsed into a chair, beginning to settle down, when he asked this.

George groaned while Ginny swatted him. "Give the girl some time!"

A flash of anger surged through the youngest male Weasley's features. "You knew? How many people knew, Hermione?"

Ron made it very clear to his best friend when he hugged her after Harry, that he was only concerned for Hermione in the sense that an older brother would. It didn't occur to him that if he'd learned six months ago that the girl he'd  had a crush on had a child that wasn't his, he'd flip shit. Now since it was obvious they shared mutual feelings about the other and agreed that they loved each other like siblings, he was almost happy for Hermione. However, he wasn't too thick to realize that only a few pieces to the puzzle had been found. The identity of Archie's father wasn't among them. He was only angry because he hadn't been told anything and feared that Hermione didn't trust him enough to share her secret. Yet, somehow, George knew. As did Ginny, but that wasn't much of a shock. Ginny was pretty nosy and probably found out on her own.

"Well, my parents knew, but I obliviated them, so they don't count. McGonagall knew, Ginny knew, Harry knew, George did, and I suspect Luna somehow knew as well. Now all of you know."

"Mate, if it makes you feel better, I only just found out today. Ginny, yesterday," Harry consulted. "I can't speak for Ginny or George, but the way I found out wasn't entirely Hermione's choice. I kind of walked in by accident."

"Merlin, Harry!" Ginny swatted him next.

"Nothing! I'm saying I feel really bad!"

"You should be," she growled with a hint of playfulness.

Meanwhile, Hermione slouched in her seat and had the color red blooming over her cheeks. "Let's not talk about it, please."

"Is that why Archie went after your chest the other morning?" Molly asked subtly, hushed so Hermione couldn't be embarrassed further. Too late.

"I dunno."

"Yes!" Ginny answered loudly. She lowered her voice and whispered to her mum, "I told Hermione one thing she could do to improve her relationship with him is start up her milk supply again. She didn't like the idea, but apparently, he latched on himself during skin-bonding."

Molly, having had seven children herself, knew what this meant and leaned over to congratulate Hermione.

"'Mione, are you gonna answer me?" Ron asked impatiently. No one responded to his earlier question and it was messing his head.

Harry tapped his shoulder, "Don't push it, mate. I wasn't happy about it and I swear, she almost took my head off."

George nodded. "Yeah. If you're that intent on knowing, I suggest you watch what you say."

Ron frowned. "'Mione?"

She sighed. "It's Malfoy."

"What?!" he roared.

Hermione's answer caught everyone by surprise. Every redhead and Fleur glared at her slack-jawed and shell-shocked.

The door slammed shut in the kitchen, yet no one turned to see the eldest Weasley brother enter. "I got let off early. Hello darling," he strode in and kissed Fleur on the head and straightened himself to address the others in the living room. "What've I missed."

"Archie's parents," Ron snorted.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's Hermione and the bloody ferret, Malfoy."

Hermione's head snapped and she glared daggers at Ronald, who didn't seem to realize he was speaking out of place. Harry felt genuinely terrified for his friend. He was in mortal danger.

Bill chortled, "Yeah right." But when he saw that everyone else was deadpanned and bore no emotions safe for shock and disbelief, he quickly amended himself and realized he'd been in the wrong. "Oh, I see."

"Call him a ferret one more time, I dare you!" Hermione spat. Ron immediately went stark white with guilt. "Because you are referring to the father of my son! So what? I love the ferret! Insult him all you want, but you forget how genetics work, Ronald Weasley. If you call him a nasty rodent of the sort, you're, while not directly, implying that my son is one as well. Leave him out of your petty prejudices against the Malfoys!"

Ron gulped audibly.

"And don't forget that even if he is Malfoy's, he's also mine. Don't hate him because he's blonde or has grey eyes, but love him because you love me as well. You were perfectly fine loving him as your nephew when you didn't know he was mine or Malfoy's, so knowing now shouldn't make much of a difference. He's only six months old! He's practically incapable of hate!"

"Sorry, Hermione," he murmured.

"Who's sorry?" she demanded, cupping a hand to the shell of her ear.

"I'm sorry."

George nudged him. "I told you she's nasty when provoked. You just didn't listen."

"No kidding, dimwit, I've only known her since we were eleven."

"Well, then that makes you stupid and a poor listener."

"George!" Molly scowled and sent a pulverizing glare toward one of her sons. "Hermione, dear, why don't we take him off your hands. You're very upset and we've all had an interesting night. I suggest you rest until supper is prepared."

Hermione grudgingly obeyed and set Archie in Molly's experienced hold.

She walked toward the banister of the stairs but stopped to turn to Ron. "Ron, I'm only angry because I've already forgiven you, yet I can't forgive myself." She disappeared into the stairwell and left a rather large group of confused and saddened people.