Hermione watched her husband set the tray of tea and biscuits down on the coffee table over the edge of her book and scowled.
He was doing it again.
Coddling her. Bringing her things that she didn’t need or particularly want, though that chocolate digestive did look incredibly appealing right now and -
She refrained from reaching across for it and focused her attention back to Ginny’s autobiography. Her friend had retired from her position as Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and dove right into writing a tell all book. But as much as she loved Ginny, she still couldn’t understand the appeal of quidditch.
“You’re up to something,” she murmured after a few moments when Draco had done nothing more than sit back in his chair with his own tea, a chocolate digestive of his own halfway to his mouth.
He bit into it - Hermione hated that he had one and she didn’t - chewed, swallowed a mouthful of tea and then mumbled something quietly. He didn’t say anything else.
People were constantly reminding Draco that he was married to the brightest witch of their age.
ALWAYS.
Which is why it was so amusing to Draco that he knew she was pregnant when she so clearly didn’t.
He had, after all, watched his mother go through no less than a dozen pregnancies when he was a child, all of which unfortunately, never resulted in anything other than his mother holed up in her bedroom for a few weeks and his father spending longer and longer hours at the ministry.
So when he woke up two weeks ago and heard his wife retching over the toilet bowl he knew why. They had been trying after all, or well Hermione had stopped taking her contraceptive potion every morning so that when they inevitably ended up naked and sweaty across either one of their desks later on that day there was a chance they would get pregnant.
But it wasn’t until he heard that wretched noise that the seriousness of the situation hit him. They were going to have a baby. Something pure and wholesome and something he’d never once dreamed he’d have with her.
So he helped in the only way he could. Making sure she was comfortable and safe and looked after and always, always, in a good mood. Of course he hadn’t thought she’d take this long to work it out.
“He’s very attentive,” Pansy murmured from beside Hermione as they lay in the grass and watched their husbands and the half a dozen Weasleys they called friends fly around above them. Hermione snorted.
“He’s ridiculous.” And it was true. Even though he was currently involved in a very competitive game of quidditch, playing seeker against Pansy’s own husband and Hermione’s best friend Harry, he still kept glancing down at her. “He’s going to fall if he doesn’t pay attention.”
“Nahh,” Pansy sighed, winking at Harry when he followed Draco’s gaze down to where they lay, “he’d never concede to Potter that way.” Hermione hummed. “How long has he been acting like this?” Pansy added.
Hermione shrugged and pulled a few strands of grass from the ground with her fingers. “A few weeks?”
“And nothing has changed for him to be acting like that?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing?”
Hermione cracked an eye and squinted at her friend. A girl who’d years ago been so very far from that title. “Like what?”
“Oh I don’t know Granger,” she smirked and Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed at her tone, “still taking that potion with your breakfast every morning?”
Hermione’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “I - what? No?” Her eyes flicked from Pansy’s face to her flat stomach, to Draco before flicking back to her friend, her eyes widening wih shock and surprise and amazement at the thought. “No?”
Pansy shrugged, but Hermione was already clutching her wand and waving it over her stomach in the pattern she’d long ago memorised.
“Oh fuck!” She murmured when the spell glowed green. She turned to look at her friend but it was the sight of Draco abandoning the game of quidditch completely and landing mere footsteps away from her that caught her attention.
“We’re going to have a baby,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face, when Draco crouched down and pulled her into his arms.
He laughed shakily and smirked at her, one hand resting on her hip and the other resting between them. “We’re going to have a baby,” he murmured against her lips.