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Snow blanketed the floor of the forest that they’d set up camp in, it was December, almost Christmas time and Hermione was terrified. Ron had abandoned them sometime back in October, the nights were long and cold, her and Harry travelled aimlessly across the country searching for pieces of Voldemort’s soul, struggling to rustle up enough food for one square meal a day as they continued with the mission that Professor Dumbledore had set them on.
Harry was sleeping inside the tent while she sat outside on a fallen branch, keeping watch for snatchers and Death Eaters, through the shimmery wards she had erected when they’d arrived here that very morning. Harry’s soothing snores filled the small clearing they were in the only sound for miles except for the odd owl hoot, or gentle clip clop of deer’s moving through the nearby trees.
Silent tears rolled down Hermione’s face, one hand pressed on the descended swell of her stomach the other holding the muggle pregnancy test she’d gotten in a nearby village in disbelief. How could she have been so stupid. Brightest witch of her age and she couldn’t even remember something as basic as contraception. She’d ignored the signs of pregnancy for months, the sickness, tender breasts, mood swings, lack of period. She’d ignored it all, blaming it on stress, on not getting enough nutrients. There was no way she was pregnant, not from one night of passion with a man she’d kissed a handful of times over the years, who she’d fallen in love with as they met in secret neither of them willing to put a label on what they were.
She couldn’t be, it was impossible yet then her stomach had started to swell, to round out, her clothes that had grown baggy from lack of food suddenly felt tight, her jeans not able to fasten over the hard roundness of her stomach. She’d seen images of children with malnutrition, their stomachs descended surely that was what was happening to her, that was why her stomach was so round, but it didn’t explain her breasts growing at least two sizes larger. Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t caused by the malnutrition she undoubtedly had but instead caused by that night, the night of August the 1st 1997, Bill and Fleur’s wedding, the night she’d snook away with an older redhead, loosing her virginity while tipsy on champagne, the night Death Eater’s had attacked, causing her Ron and Harry to flee on their hunt.
It was no wonder she’d forgot the contraception charm; she’d been fleeing for her life. She’d put the night out of her mind only remembering it in the dead of night as she placed her hand between her legs, rubbing her swollen clitoris, two fingers within herself as she remembered his cock thrusting within her, remembered him crying out her name as they both came, remembered the confessions of love shared as the sounds of merriment came from the nearby tent where the Weasley family and Order were gathered celebrating Bill and Fleur’s wedding. She remembered his eye’s widening in fear as the merry sounds turned to screams of terror, both of them scrambling off of the too small bed in his childhood bedroom, his come leaking out of her as they redressed quickly, hurrying out of the Burrow, heading back towards the wedding, where the tent was in flames as Death Eaters and Order Members fired curses in all directions. He’d taken her hand, whispered that he loved her, made her promise to survive as he’d shoved her in the direction of Harry and Ron. She’d met his eye’s a final time mouthing that she loved him too before grabbing her friends and apparating away.
There was so much to do, breaking into the ministry, tracking down the Horcruxes, she’d continued to ignore the signs of pregnancy, unwilling to admit that that was what was happing to her until she’d felt the flutters, something moving within the hardness, something growing within her. A child conceived with love in an improbable time, a time wrought with danger, death, no place for a child to be born. She’d convinced Harry that they needed proper food and slipped away to a muggle village filling her extended bag with non-perishable tins and packets. She’d also shoved in the muggle pregnancy test. She knew she was pregnant, there was no denying it but part of her hoped she wasn’t, how could she bring a child into the world now, when she was undesirable number two, when her best friend was the most hunted man in Brittan. Death Eaters were murdering and raping women like her, other Muggleborn’s, Voldemort had taken over the country; the Ministry, Hogwarts, St Mungo’s, it wasn’t safe to go anywhere in public, the Order was in hiding. How could she bring a child into this world?
She’d taken the test once she was certain Harry was asleep and waited for the two lines to appear, confirming what she already knew. She was pregnant, almost five months along. So she sat on her branch keeping watch for any dangers outside the wards, one hand protectively on her stomach, the other shaking as she held the test that confirmed her fate, she’d be a mother in less than five months. She was only eighteen, there was a war raging and she was going to be a mum. She wished she was with her own mum, Helen Granger, would take her into her arms, stroke her hair and hold her tight, comforting her, supporting her but her mum was on the other side of the world, with no idea she had a daughter, no idea that she was called Helen, that her husbands name was Richard. Hermione sobbed quietly, taking shuddering breaths as she tried to process, tried to plan, she could do this, bring a child into the word while on the run, help Harry continue the quest, she could do everything, God damnit she was the brightest witch of the age, she’d find a way to manage.
So in her own world, Hermione didn’t hear the tent flaps open or Harry, approaching her, didn’t see him take in her profile, his eyes widening as he saw the test in her hand the two blue lines prominent on the white background. She felt it though when he sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled her into his lap, his head resting atop of ger bushy hair as he made soothing, shushing sounds, reminding Hermione of the ocean. Hermione continued to cry, wrapping her arms around him, clinging to her friend as though her life depended on it.
“Harry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered when she eventually calmed, the salty tears drying on her face, her eyes red and swollen.
“It’s okay,” he replied.
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered.
“It’s Fred’s isn’t it,” he asked knowingly, Hermione nodded, of course Harry would know about her secret romance.
“Ron will be angry,” she confessed.
“Ron’s an idiot,” he replied.
“He’s your best friend,” she scolded.
“Doesn’t make him less of an idiot, I thought he’d have come back to us by now,” he told her quietly.
“Even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to find us, the charms prevent it,” she whispered.
“You can’t stay here Hermione,” he told her, resting his hand on her stomach, feeling the roundness for the first time.
“I have nowhere else to go, besides you need my help,” she said.
“I’m serious, Hermione, this is dangerous, my niece or nephew can’t be born in a tent, in the woods during a horcrux hunt,” he replied, Hermione snorted.
“Niece or nephew,” she asked with a chuckle.
“Obviously, you are my sister and besides one day I will marry Ginny and you will be married to Fred so the chid in your stomach will be my niece or nephew,” he told her decisively.
“Uncle Harry,” she smiled.
“Don’t forget godfather,” he smiled.
“Your already, Teddy’s godfather,” she reminded.
“So I can be godfather to your little nugget too,” he replied.
“I’m sure Fred will want George to be godfather,” she laughed.
“I’ll fight him for the role,” he chuckled.
“What are we going to do Harry,” she asked worriedly.
“For starters we are going to go inside, it’s far too cold out here, then we are going to have some food, my niece or nephew needs feeding, then you are going to sleep. Tomorrow we will go to a muggle doctor and see how the baby is doing, the lack of food, exposure to horcruxes and general stress of the past few months can’t have been good for either of you. We will worry about everything else afterwards,” he told her, and Hermione felt relief, Harry was here, he wasn’t mad, and he wanted to help her, to support her. She let him lead her back into the tent watched as he heated tins of soup, ensuring she had much more of it than he did she ate it without complaint and fell asleep soon after, worn out from the crying and stress of the day.
Their features had been changed, her hair a coppery red stood straight instead of frizzy, her brown eyes now a midnight blue, she’d removed her freckles and darkened her skin by a few shades. Harry was now blonde, his green eyes brown, his body stockier than it was before, she’d hidden his scar and lightened his tanned skin. Nobody except perhaps their closet friends would be able to recognise them. They’d cleaned themselves up, removing the grime of months on the run from their skin, shed cleaned and transfigured their clothes, into something presentable. They didn’t want to draw more attention to themselves than necessary.
They were sat in a waiting room, the walls were plain white, the lights bright, posters depicting different ailments and services were dotted about the room. Hermione clung to Harry’s hand her eye’s steadfast on a poster about antenatal neuration; she hadn’t had any folic acid or anything else the poster advised during pregnancy. She was a failure, failing at providing the basics for the child growing within her. What if there was something wrong with it, she’d never forgive herself if there were.
“Matilda Hargreaves,” a kind voice called as an older woman in dark blue scrubs entered the room.
“That’s us,” Harry whispered, standing up, Hermione followed silently clutching his hand tightly.
“Hello, my name is Wendy, and I will be your midwife today,” the older woman spoke cheerfully as she led them into a small examination room.
“Hello,” Hermione replied.
“I understand you are in your fourth moth of pregnancy, is that correct,” Wendy asked, checking the form Hermione had filled out when she had arrived at the clinic.
“I’ll be five months along on the 1st of January,” she told the woman.
“Fantastic, and what prenatal care have you had so far,” the midwife asked.
“I haven’t, I didn’t know I was,” Hermione stammered, holding Harry’s hand tightly. Midwife Wendy smiled soothingly.
“That’s okay dear, why don’t you lay on the bed, and we can do a scan,” she told her Hermione nodded and laid down on the bed, pulling her top up and her leggings down to revile her swollen stomach. Harry’s eye’s widened at the size of it, having only felt it through layers of clothes.
“This will feel cold,” Wendy spoke squeezing gel onto her stomach, she used an electric wand of sorts to rub the gel in and a grainy image appeared on a screen besides her.
“Oh my,” Wendy gasped,” Hermione’s stomach dropped her eye’s watering.
“What’s wrong,” Harry asked his thumb drawing soothing circles on Hermione’s hand.
“Nothing at all, your having twins,” the midwife smiled.
“Twins,” Hermione asked.
“Oh yes, see here is one amniotic sack with your first child, while over here is a second sack with another child. Both healthy, but a little on the small size which usually is the case with twins mind you. Hermione stared at the screen with awe, two perfect little babies, she could see their heads, their arms, their little fingers and toes, tiny they might be but perfectly formed, growing inside her. Tears streamed down her face silently as she stared at the screen with fascination.
“Hermione your having twins,” Harry smiled, tears escaping his own eyes.
“Would you like to know their genders,” Wendy asked, Hermione nodded, and the midwife told her she’d be having a little girl and boy, pointing out which one was which as she printed out an ultrasound image for her to keep.
“Now at this point in a pregnancy you should have been taking prenatal vitamins, I can prescribe them now for you, you should have also had a number of tests, blood tests, urine tests height and weight measurements and should have given a medical history of both yourself and your partner,” Midwife Wendy spoke, directing the last part at Harry.
“I’m not her, I’m her brother,” Harry spoke his voice disgusted.
“Sorry,” Wendy spoke.
“The father doesn’t know,” Hermione whispered sadly. If Fred did know she knew he’d be here offering her support.
“Right well let’s get started on these tests,” the midwife spoke, and Hermione nodded.
Hours later, Harry and she were back at their camp. Midwife Wendy had been an angel, fast tracking all of the tests so Hermione got all of the information and facts about her Pregnancy within a few hours. She’d picked up enough vitamins to last the remainder of her pregnancy and obliviated all who had seen Her and Harry at the doctor’s practice. She didn’t want to risk anyone discovering her pregnancy.
The radio played in the background as Hermione moped, wondering what Fred was doing right now, was he safe, hidden away somewhere or was he in danger fighting the Death Eaters, captured, dead, she hoped he was well, hoped he was safe.
“Dance with me,” Harry spoke, reaching for her, pulling her into his arms, twirling her around their tent, Hermione giggled, allowing the melancholy to recede, relaxing into the levity of the moment.
“I’m sure he’s okay,” Harry whispered, his arms around her tightly as he leant down and kissed her forehead.
“I hope so,” she whispered, feeling the gentle flutter of their babies within her.
Christmas Eve had come and against her better instincts she’d gone to Godric’s Hallow with Harry, visiting the graves of his parents, the house where all this had started on a cold October night when Harry had been just a baby. She knew it was a bad idea, she knew that Voldemort would likely predict that Harry would want to go here but she hadn’t expected, such dark magic, for Nagini to come out of Mrs Bagshot’s body.
They’d only just managed to escape with their lives, Voldemort had shown up, Harry’s wand had been snapped. Harry had been splinched as she apparated them away, and Hermione had sobbed over his unconscious form.
“I can’t do this Harry, I can’t fight, can’t be a part of this war. I want to help you so much, want to be with you on this journey but how can I, I’m having twins and Fred doesn’t even know. I wish Ron was still here, that you had him with you,” she spoke to her unconscious friend, saying the words she’d never say if Harry was still awake.
A bright light filled the clearing, Hermione gasped, holding her wand steady, ready to defend Harry against any incoming attacks. She’d cast the protective wards, she’d healed Harry’s splinched but that didn’t mean Voldemort hadn’t followed them, hadn’t found them.
“Hermione,” a voice she knew so well spoke, a form materialising in the light. Before she knew what she was doing, she was hurrying towards the light, her arms outstretched towards the friend that had abandoned them back in October.
“Don’t you ever leave again Ronald Weasley,” she told him as she wrapped her arms around him, her stomach preventing a proper hug. Ron stared at her wide eyed, his eyes trailing from her face to her stomach, which was undeniably pregnant.
“Hermione your pregnant,” he gasped.
“I am,” she sobbed as she hugged him tight.
“How,” her friend asked flabbergasted.
“When a man and a woman love each other very much,” she began.
“I know how, I mean who, who did this to you, were you forced, I’ll kill them,” he told her, holding her protectively.
“I wasn’t forced, please don’t be mad Ron,” she whispered.
“I’m worried not mad,” her friend told her quietly.
“Fred’s the father,” she confessed quietly, Ron stiffened but held her tightly in his arms.
“I’m going to be an uncle,” he asked, Hermione nodded.
“I called dibs on godfather,” Harry’s tired voice called, and Hermione laughed, filled with relief, their trio was complete, everything would be okay.
Hermione was curled up, in a nest of blankets on her bed, listening to Potterwatch, Ron had told them about it upon his return and Hermione spent her evenings listening to Fred’s voice, her hand on her expanding stomach as she whispered to her babies, telling them about their brave father who loves to prank and laugh. She told them the story of her first kiss of how Fred had found her crying after the Yule Ball and had asked her to dance, how he had made her laugh and smile and wiped her tears before leaning down to claim her lips under the enchanted mistletoe. It had been the first of many stolen kisses, which had led to their procreation. She told them sweet stories and how she was certain Fred would love them, told them she couldn’t wait to tell him about them. She was rewarded with gentle kicks against her organs, her babies were still too small to be felt from outside of her stomach though both Harry and Ron kept feeling it, hoping to feel a kick from their niece and nephew.
“We found it, we have the sward of Gryffindor, we can finally destroy, Voldemort’s Horcruxes,” harry told her as he walked into the tent, ruby encrusted sword in one hand and a destroyed locket in the other.
“Harry NOOO the taboo,” Ron spoke, but it was too late, their protective enchantments failed, and pops of apparition surrounded their tent.
“We know your there, best to come out with your hands up,” a gruff voice called. Hermione blanched, one hand protectively clutching her stomach, the other holding her wand. She cast a stinging jinx at Harry, and tried to fight but it was impossible, they were outnumbered, and she was in no condition to fight. Greyback grabbed her, sniffing at her neck, his tongue running across her neck.
“Fertile little thing, already filled with pups, two heartbeats,” the werewolf growled. His claws digging into the flesh of her stomach.
“Please, no,” she begged, crying as she struggled in his grip.
“Such a pretty little thing, powerful too, I can smell it, magical potency, I might keep you, my pack’s been looking for a strong bitch to breed,” the monstrous man growled, Hermione whimpered, turning her head away from him.
“It’s Potter, we have Potter,” one of the snatchers called.
“Looks like we are going to Malfoy Manor Poppet, I’m sure they will gift you to me, a nice reward for bringing in the chosen one,” he whispered, nipping at her neck, his teeth scraping but not breaking her skin. Hermione closed her eyes in horror, she was going to be Greyback’s plaything, there was no way they could escape.
They had been dragged down the driveway of a large white manor, equally white peacocks roamed the grounds, it would have been a nice place, but Hermione could feel the magic leaching throughout the grounds, dark and twisted, pure evil.
“Why have you brought them here instead of the ministry,” a voice she vaguely recognised as Narcissa Malfoy asked.
“We have Potter,” one of the snatchers replied, shoving Harry forward. From where she stood, Hermione saw the older witch pale, her eyes widening for a moment before a mask of cool indifference settled on her face.
“Follow me,” the blonde woman spoke, leading them inside and into a marble drawing room.
“What’s this,” a cackling voice asked.
“Potter,” Mrs Malfoy responded.
“Is it really, itty bitty Potter, what’s happened to his face,” the dark-haired witch asked examining his face.
“Stinging jinx Marm,” a snatcher replied.
“Fetch Draco,” Bellatrix replied, her eyes full of glee. Within moments Draco Malfoy was there his eye’s widening in horror as he took them in.
“Draco, is it him, is it Potter,” the mad woman asked.
“I can’t be sure, Auntie,” he responded.
“That’s Weasley and Granger, I’m sure of it, Lucius Malfoy spoke tapping his cane as he approached them.
“It must be Potter then,” Bellatrix cackled.
“I’ll call the Dark Lord,” the older Malfoy spoke raising his arm, his Dark Mark exposed.
“NOOOOOO WHERE DID YOU GET THAT SWORD,” Bellatrix screamed, her voice enraged as she grabbed Lucius’s hand.
“Found it,” Ron said confidently.
“Put the boys in the cellar, the Mudblood and I are going to have a little talk girl, to girl,” the woman spoke, her voice full of anger. Hermione watched as her friends and the other hostages were led from the room, feeling helpless.
“This one’s mine,” Greyback growled.
“Not anymore, you can have here when I’m done with her,” the mental woman spoke, using her wand to throw Greyback and the other snatchers out of the room, the door slamming closed behind them. Hermione cried harder, her unable to hold her stomach, her hands tied behind her back.
“WHERE DID YOU GET IT,” the woman screamed clutching at her face, her eyes enraged.
“We found it, please we found it in the forest,” she begged.
“Liar, that sword was in my vault, what else did you steel, what did you take from me,” the woman asked.
“Nothing, please, I’ve never been in your vault, I haven’t taken anything.
“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU, CRUCIO,” the woman screamed, her wand pointed at her stomach, Hermione screamed, withering in pain, crying for the babies within her womb.
“STOP, PLEASE, DON’T HURT THEM< NOT MY BABIES,” Hermione screamed, wishing she could wrap her arms around her stomach protectively.
“BELLA STOP,” Narcissa Malfoy cried, Draco was shaking at his mother’s side, his eyes fixed on her stomach.
“CISSY, Babies always were your weakness,” the woman cackled, lifting the curse, the relief only lasted a second before she cast it again, Hermione screamed, throwing her head back, her back arching as she twisted, trying to redirect the curse to anywhere else on her body.
“Muddy girl what else did you take,” the woman asked.
“Nothing please, it’s a fake,” she cried.
“Fetch the goblin,” she spoke as she pulled out a blade, cutting the ropes that tied her arms behind her. Hermione’s hands flew to her stomach, holding it protectively. The dark-haired witch above her laughed straddling her stomach, putting too much weight atop of her. Hermione could feel her babies wriggling in distress, still alive despite the torture.
“Who fucked you little girl, who knocked up your muddy cunt,” she asked as she pinned her down, holding Her left arm she began to carve at her flesh with the blade.
“Was it Potter, are you carrying the Potter heir,” she cooed as she carved. Hermione screamed.
“No, it’s not Harry’s,” she whimpered, closing her eyes in terror as she felt liquid surrounding her legs, a sharp pain shooting through her stomach. The woman above her laughed.
“Now everyone, will know what you are,” she hissed, raising her wand towards her.
“Avada Kedavra,” a voice spoke quietly, Hermione flinched, this was the end, a sinister green light lit up the room. She was going to die; Fred would never meet his children. Instead of death though she watched the woman above her slump forward, her eyes glassy.
“CISSY WHAT HAVE YOU DONE,” Malfoy senior screamed, Hermione heard the younger Malfoy cast a stunning spell, a body slumping to the floor with a bang. Bellatrix’s body was pulled away from her, but she was too week to move, too week to do anything. A pair of silver eyes stared down at her in worry as her vision blurred.
“Mum there’s so much blood,” a panicked voice spoke, and that was the last thing she heard as unconsciousness claimed her.
Softness surrounded her, it felt like she was floating on a cloud. She could hear the Splish sploshing of waves crashing against a beach. Hermione’s limbs were heavy, where was she, she hadn’t felt so well rested in months, her bed in the tent wasn’t this soft she thought as she snuggled deeper into the mattress below her.
“I wish I had known before, whish you’d come back to me when you found out,” a voice was saying, Hermione knew that voice, it was Fred, why did he sound so sad, why was he in their tent.
“Hermione you need to wake up, I need you to wake up, I can’t believe your pregnant,” he continued. Hermione frowned, what was he on about, then she remembered the pregnancy, Malfoy manor, the liquid, blood she recalled running down her legs.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her hands moving to her stomach as her eye’s fluttered open.
“Hermione,” he gasped, carefully pulling her into his arms.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t tell you and now our babies are dead,” she sobbed, clinging to him.
“Hermione, breath, you’re okay, the babies are okay,” he whispered soothingly as he rocked her.
“No they died, there was so much blood,” she whimpered.
“I promise you they are alive, Narcissa and Draco saved you, they stopped the bleeding and got you help. Our babies are okay,” he told her as the door flew open.
“Oh Hermione,” a motherly voice called, and she found herself been pulled into the arms of Mrs Weasley, the redheaded witch was crying, but she held her tight, humming soothingly. Hermione felt a flutter and then a strong kick against her hand that still rested against her stomach.
“I’m still pregnant,” she sobbed with relief.
“Would you like to see them,” the older witch asked. Hermione nodded and the woman placed her hand above her own whispering a charm Hermione didn’t catch, a large hologram like image appearing above her stomach. Too babies, in too sacks, unlike the ultrasound that was grainy, this was like a proper photograph allowing Hermione to see all angles of her children, aloud her to hear the strong heartbeats thumbing through the air, aloud her to see them both kicking her insides, one of them sucking its own thumb.
“Their alive,” she sobbed with relief as Mrs Weasley comforted her in the way only a mother could.
“They are sweet girl and perfectly healthy, you kept them safe,” he reassured as she stroked her hair. Hermione closed her eyes letting sleep claim her, knowing she was safe.
When she awoke next, she found Fred asleep beside her, his hand resting on her stomach. Beside the bed Harry and Ron sat in quiet discussion.
“She has a horcrux in her vault,” she told them quietly.
“We guessed as much,” Harry responded.
“How you are doing,” Ron asked, his eye’s worried.
“Better I think, the pain has gone,” she whispered.
“That will be the potions,” Harry spoke.
“Where are we,” she asked, her eyes scanning round the baby blue room, to settle on vase of sunflowers sat on the windowsill.
“Shell Cottage,” Bills home.
“What happened,” she asked them, the pair grimaced. Bellatrix tortured you, Narcissa killed her, Draco stunned his father and freed us and the other prisoners from the dungeons,” Harry listed.
“When we got back into the drawing room you were covered in blood, Narcissa and a house elf were trying to heel you, the elf was feeding you potions while Narcissa cast heeling charms,” Ron continued.
“Turned out she wanted to be a heeler when she was younger and had done an apprenticeship her final year at Hogwarts, very lucky really, without her knowledge all three of you would of,” Harry grimaced breaking off his sentence. Hermione nodded, understanding, without Mrs Malfoy her and her babies would be dead.
“Once you were stable, we brought you here, along with the Malfoy’s and the prisoners that were at the Manor, Dean, Luna, Mr Ollivander,” Ron told her.
“Fleur and Narcissa continued to work on you while Bill got Mrs Weasley, if anyone knows about pregnancy it’s her,” Harry responded.
“I insisted they get Fred,” Ron told her, smiling at his sleeping brother.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You need to stay here Hermione, it’s safe, you need to keep our niece and nephew healthy while we finish this,” Harry whispered leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
“It’s always been the three of us,” she told them sadly.
“It has and you will always be the brains of our trio but for now you need to keep out of the fight,” Ron told her.
“Besides we have Malfoy willing to help,” Harry chuckled.
“Malfoy,” she asked.
“Wants to destroy old snake face, confessed under truth potion, he was second to you in every class, we’ll borrow his brains while you incubate,” Ron told her, rubbing her tummy affectionately.
“I’m not a chicken,” she grumbled, her boy’s chuckled.
“No you aren’t but you are on bedrest, you almost miscarried, and was in preterm labour, you need to take it easy,” Harry told her quietly. She knew he was telling the truth so over the coming days she prepared them for life on the hunt without them and when the time came for them to leave, she let them go, knowing that her boys and Malfoy were the best chance of bringing this war to an end.
“You guy’s need to stop wriggling so much and kicking mummy’s organs, she needs sleep,” Fred scolded quietly, leaning down to kiss her stomach. Hermione smiled, her eye’s closed.
“Now I know you are my children and mischief runs through your veins but you need to behave,” Fred whispered, running his palm across her stomach lightly. Hermione sighed, it felt nice, his skin touching hers rubbing her stomach, his lips occasionally pressing against her taught skin as he spoke to the babies, they’d created his voice full of love. Hermione felt heat pool within her, and rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve the sudden pressure.
“Freddie, I need you,” she whispered, her face flushing with embarrassment.
“I’m right here, Mi, what do you need, a drink, help getting to the bathroom,” he asked tenderly, his hand still stroking her descended stomach. She was now seven months pregnant, her stomach so large she could no longer see her feet, her belly button had popped out and dark red stretch marks covered her once porcelain skin while her breasts ached as they prepared to provide nutrition to the babies she carried. Fred looked at her so earnestly, ready to help her with whatever she needed.
“Fred, I need your cock in me,” she blurted, rising her hands to cover her face.
“You need my,” he laughed, pulling her hands away from her face, don’t be embarrassed love,” he told her leaning forward to kiss her lips, Hermione mewed like a kitten.
“I need you,” she breathed.
“Is it safe,” he asked her quietly.
“Fleur said it was, so long as we are gentle,” she whispered.
“You sure you want too,” he asked, kissing her again.
“I’m so horny Freddie, I need you, please,” she begged her eyes watering.
“I’m here baby, I’ll help you,” he promised. She’d like to say it was sexy him undressing her, but she felt like a whale as he lifted her, removing the too large t-shirt she had been wearing as a nightie, leaving her in just a pair of cotton knickers that were soaked with her own juices. She brought her hands up to cover herself in shame. He must have seen her uncertainty in her face as he smiled down at her.
“Don’t cover yourself, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you round with our children. You are so sexy,” he told her as he claimed her lips with a bruising kiss, so full of desire and need, Hermione moaned, opening herself up to him.
“Beautiful, he whispered as he kissed his way down, her body, sucking, licking, nipping at her skin, “my goddess,” he breathed as he marked her neck, Hermione was putty in his hands, gasping as he squeezed her swollen breasts, milk pebbling at her nipples.
“I have never seen you more beautiful,” he told her as he took one of her hardened nipples into his mouth, sucking, feeding, on the milk that she produced. Hermione moaned, animalistic, clinging to his hair, pushing him closer as he relived the pressure, the fullness of her milk. All the while, he squeezed, flicked and pinched her other nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, milk dribbling out of her teat.
“Delicious,” he breathed against her nipple, as he switched breasts, milk dribbling down his chin.
“More,” she breathed, as he sucked at her other breast, taking away the pain that had built within it with each suck. Fred complied running a hand to the apex of her thighs, rubbing against her soaked knickers.
“Your dripping,” he breathed, bringing his mouth back to hers in a heated kiss. Hermione moaned at the sweetness of her own milk.
“Please Freddie I need to come,” she begged him.
“Soon love he told her, making his way down her body, kissing each breast and trailing kisses down her stomach to her thighs.
“Please,” she moaned.
“Let’s remove these,” he said pulling the cotton knickers away from her heated core, he took his time carefully pulling them off of her and sliding them down her thighs, which he kissed before pulling them down and over her feet. She opened her thighs exposing herself completely, needily.
“You’re so beautiful Mi,” he breathed as he ran his fingers through her folds, Hermione bucking against him.
“Please, Freddie,” she begged, Fred smiled at her reassuringly and then his mouth was on her, between her thighs which were over his shoulders as he did the most wonderful thing with his tongue, licking, flicking, sucking her hardened nub as his fingers thrust within her, Hermione grinding against him as her orgasm crashed through her causing her to scream his name as she came.
“More, need you,” she begged, he licked her languidly, cleaning her of her juices, in a feet of accidental magic on her part all of Fred’s clothes disappeared leaving him naked, his hard cock swollen, precum dripping from its tip. Hermione reached out squeezing it, Fred hissed, then her was lifting her, repositioning her onto her knees, pillows positioned underneath her stomach supporting her as he told her to hold the bedrest. He wrapped his arms around her one flat against her stomach the other against her breasts, his pecks flush against her back as he thrust into her from behind, her back arching against him, as he filled her, moving at a steady pace, in and out of her, brushing her g spot with every thrust.
“Freddie,” she moaned, as he kissed her neck, never breaking his pace.
“You are so beautiful Hermione, I love you,” he breathed, Hermione twisted her head, capturing his lips with her own as she came around him, Fred grunting as he thrust a final time releasing himself within her.
“Marry me,” he breathed as he carefully lowered her back onto the bed, settling himself behind her as she lay on her side, his hand sprayed across her belly.
“I don’t want to get married because of the pregnancy,” she told him her and atop of his, she could feel the babies kicking within her.
“Hermione I’m in love with you, I’ve wanted to marry you for ages,” he breathed.
“I’m an elephant,” she told him.
“No you are pregnant, and beautiful,” he told her holding his other hand out. A box flew into it, and he flipped it open, Hermione gasped at the beautiful diamond ring inside.
“Freddie,” she breathed tears spilling from her eyes.
“I’ve been carrying this since before Bills wedding, marry me Hermione, you are the only one for me,” Unable to find words she nodded, smiling as he slipped the ring onto her finger, leaning over to kiss her tenderly.
The wedding was small, much smaller than Bill’s and Fleur’s had been. Bill, Fleur, George, Molly, Arthur, Narcissa, Luna, Remus, Tonks and Teddy had been the only guests in attendance while Kingsley had officiated their nuptials. The war was at its height, more and more wix going missing each day, she’d heard no word of Harry or Ron in weeks. She hoped her boys were okay.
She was eight months pregnant now and found it difficult to walk. She waddled across the makeshift aisle on the beach outside Shell Cottage, a transfigured white gown courtesy of fleur acting as a wedding dress. Fred had stood to attention, dressed in blue shirt and cream slacks. Both of them were barefoot. She couldn’t really tell you what exactly was said, as they spoke their vows, her sobbing in both happiness and sadness as they exchanged words of love and sealed their vows with a kiss as Kingsley bound them together, golden stars erupting from the tip of his wand. It was a joyous day, marrying the man she loved but she wished her friends could have been present that it had been her dad walking her down the aisle instead of Mr Weasley.
“I love you Mrs Weasley,” Fred told her as he kissed her.
“I love you too,” she responded as he led her in their first dance, Her stomach a monstrous ball between them.
“Pregnant sex is the best, isn’t it,” Tonks, told her after a meal Mrs Weasley had made to celebrate their wedding.
“Tonks,” she scolded, her face blushing.
“Hermione you aren’t exactly a virgin, the older witch chuckled as she rocked Teddy in her arms.
“It is good,” she confessed shyly, Tonks laughed.
“I miss it, Remus was like a beast.” She laughed again as Hermione’s face flushed further.
“Does it hurt,” Hermione whispered, her eyes on the baby in her friend’s arms.
“Like a bitch bit it’s worth it, once you are holding your baby all the pain disappears,” Tonks reassured, squeezing her hand, Hermione smiled but Tonks words hadn’t successfully eased her worries.
It was May the 1st, her due date, they’d received word that Harry, Ron and Draco had broken into Gringotts, escaping on the back of a Dragon. Fred had gone to an undisclosed location to announce the news on Potterwatch, leaving Hermione sitting in the living room of Shell cottage listening to the broadcast with the other inhabitants of the cottage.
“Breaking news folks we have breaking news after a daring escape from Gringotts we can confirm that lightening has struck. Potter is at Hogwarts, and we are calling on all allies to our cause to join us at the school to fight old Voldy-shorts,” George spoke his voice excited. Hermione tensed a sharp pain rippling through her stomach. Luna reached over and grabbed her hand a serine smile on her face.
“It all ends tonight, we are fighting for ourselves, our families, our friends, for the next generation. May they live in a world without war, without fear, I’m fighting for my children’s future,” Fred spoke his voice serious. Hermione cried, quietly.
“This is it,” Bill breathed, climbing to his feet, “the final battle”.
“It is, you guys had best get to the castle,” Hermione breathed as another contraction made her wince.
“Are you okay,” Fleur asked kneeling in front of her.
“Just Braxton hicks,” she breathed.
“I’ll stay with Hermione,” Luna volunteered squeezing her hand tight. Soon after Fleur, Bill and Narcissa were gone, leaving the two of them alone.
“How long have you been having contractions,” her blonde friend asked seriously.
“About seven hours,” she breathed, grimacing as another pain rocked through her.
“Let’s get you more comfortable,” Luna spoke helping her to her feet. The younger women led her to her bedroom, Hermione wincing in pain as her body prepared for labour. Hermione grabbed onto the bedpost gasping as the next contraction hit her.
“Your okay, Hermione, breathe through the pain,” Luna whispered, stroking her back in soothing circles.
“HELLO, IS ANYONE HERE,” a voice yelled in panic.
“UPSTAIRS,” Luna yelled back, there was the hurried sound of someone coming up the stairs, then Tonks was bursting into the room Teddy in her arms.
“Oh thank goodness, Remus has gone to the castle, and I need someone to watch Teddy,” the Auror spoke in a hurry.
“AHHH,” Hermione moaned as the next contraction hit.
“Oh fuck, is she,” Tonks paled.
“She is,” Luna confirmed.
“I’m here, you know,” Hermione hissed, as the pain receded.
“Right we need help,” Tonks muttered, raising her wand and sending off her patronus.
“Everyone is at the castle, Harry needs all the help he can get,” Hermione breathed.
“My mother’s not and she’s a trained healer,” Tonks told her, settling Teddy in the cot that had been built at the other side of the room.
“Hermione, we need to get your clothes off of you and see how dilated you are,” the Auror spoke calmly approaching the bed.
“No,” Hermione shook her head.
“There’s no time for modesty, these babies are coming,” she told her, fluffing the pillows to create a space for Hermione to rest in. Next, she approached Hermione and began helping her out of the dungarees she was wearing, stripping her until she was naked. Tonks led her to the bed with Luna’s help and settled her against the pillows.
“Nymphadora,” a voice called.
“Up here mum,” she called back. Hermione gasped in terror at the sight of the curly haired woman who came into the room, her eyes falling to the Mudblood scare on her forearm.
“Easy, Hermione, breath,” Luna soothed.
“I’m sorry, you look like,” she gasped as another pain ripped through her.
“My sister, I’m sorry you had the displeasure of meeting her,” Andromeda spoke as she settled on the bed beside her.
“Not your fault,” Hermione gasped.
“Can I see how far along you are,” the witch asked, Hermione nodded, wincing as her legs were spread apart, the healer reaching a gloved had inside her to feel how dilated she was.
“How long has she been in labour,” she asked removing her fingers.
“About eight hours,” Luna replied, the blonde was holding her hand, rubbing soothing circles each time she winced or made sounds of pain.
“Hermione you are about four centimetres dilated, you can’t start pushing until you get to ten, it seems you’ve been dilating one centimetre every two hours,” the woman told her calm.
“Isn’t there anything you can do to speed it up, she gasped.
“Unfortunately there’s no magic to speed up labour, you just have to wait. We can sooth the pain though, lets get you into a hot bath,” the older witch spoke, helping her to her feet and leading her down the hall to the bathroom.
Hours kept passing and they had heard no word of the battle raging up at the castle. Night had fallen hours ago, and the sun had risen again casting a warm orange through the small window within her bedroom Their friends and loved ones were fighting for their future while Hermione fought through contraction after contraction, cursing the day she allowed Fred to put his dick within her. The pain rivalled that of the cruciatus, radiating through her abdomen like knives of fire, she was drenched in sweat, her hands held tight by Luna and Tonks as Andromeda stood between her spread legs, her fingers within her once more.
“Ten, centimetres,” she declared, a tired smile on her face.
“I can’t do it,” Hermione shook her head.
“You can do it Mione,” Tonks told her, squeezing her hand.
“We have you, push Hermione,” Luna told her. When the next contraction hit, she bore down, feeling one of her children moving within her, a pressure unlike anything she’d ever felt.
“I can’t,” she cried, the pain was intense, why had she refused pain medication, wanting to deliver naturally.
“HERMIONE,” a frantic voice called, and she sobbed in relief as Fred bounded up the stairs, bursting into the room, his eyes widening as she saw her, caked in sweat in the throws of labour, her legs spread ready to deliver the first of their children.
“Fred,” She gasped.
“We won, my beautiful wife,” he said, hurrying to her side. Soon he was behind her, supporting her weight, holding her, praising her as she pushed with each contraction.
“Good girl, you are doing beautifully,” he whispered, kissing her neck as she leant into him, pushing with all her might.
“Your crowning,” Andromeda informed her, Hermione reached down feeling a head of hair, and sobbed, she was so close to doing this, to bringing their children into the world.
“You’ve got this love,” Fred told her, and she pushed once more, feeling the baby slip out of her, hearing their melodic cry, tears of relief escaping her as a baby was placed on her chest, its little mouth searching for her nipple.
“A healthy little girl,” Andromeda smiled. Holding her newborn daughter to her Hermione pushed through each oncoming contraction, with the encouragement of the three women in the room and her husband Hermione birthed her son twenty-two minutes after his sister.
“You did beautifully, my love,” Fred praised, holding their daughter as she nursed their son.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she replied, allowing her eyes to shut as she settled back onto her soft bed.
Hermione had given birth to twins on the second of May 1998, the same day her best friend killed Lord Voldemort, brining an end to a long thought war, which had spanned much longer than either of their lives. Many people had died that night in the castle, many of her fellow Gryffindor’s, including her former roommate Lavender, Order Members and many others who had listened to the twin’s plea for help. Thankfully, none of Hermione’s immediate friends had died but still she felt the losses and would attend the funerals of the fallen.
In the days following the birth of her children Hermione had no shortage of visitors coming through her room at Shell Cottage, everyone wanted to see their new babies. Hermione smiled tiredly as all of the Weasleys came and went, each congratulating and fussing in equal measure. She smiled at Remus when he visited and at other members of the order who stuck their head in to see the tired mum and her babies.
George had been besotted when he’d seen, his twins’ children, holding each of them carefully.
“They’re so tiny,” he whispered.
“We want you to be the godfather to Jasper,” Hermione spoke quietly as she rested in Fred’s arms.
“It will be my honour Hermione,” he said his face full of joy, Hermione smiled and allowed her eyes to close, sleep claiming her quickly.
When she awoke a different man was sat beside her bed, holding one of her newborn babies, a gentle smile on his face.
“You did good sis,” Harry spoke quietly, so not to wake Fred or either baby.
“So did you, what happened, they say you killed him, that it’s over,” she spoke her eye’s fixed on her brother. Harry looked warn, his hair shaggy, a beard on his chin, he looked older too. She smiled sadly at him.
“Another time, Hermione,” he spoke, she nodded in agreement.
“We want you to be Rose’s godfather,” she said instead of asking more about what had happened at the battle.
“Thank you, Mione,” he told her smiling as he extended his to squeeze hers.
“I missed you,” she confessed, Harry smiled.
“I heard you got married he said, stroking his finger across the ring on hers.
“I did,” she laughed.
“Are you happy,” he asked.
“Overwhelmed, relieved, scared and happy” she confessed.
“Me too,” he told her quietly as the baby in his arms began to cry.
“Pass her here, I need to feed her,” she said holding her arms out for her daughter.
“Right, here you go,” Harry passed the baby to her, averting his eyes, his face red as she pulled her nightgown down allowing her daughter to latch on to her breast. Hermione laughed as he shifted uncomfortably.
“Harry Potter, defeater of Dark Lords, scared of his best friend’s breast,” she laughed.
“Shut up Mione,” he said.
“I’m glad you made it,” she said.
“I had something important to come back too, couldn’t let Ron be godfather now could I,” he said.
“Not sure he has the emotional range for such duties as yet, perhaps with the next one,” she said.
“Already want more,” he laughed.
“Maybe someday, Fred came from a big family, and I always wanted siblings when I was younger,” she said with a yawn.
“Get some rest Mione,” he said leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
“Love you Harry,” she whispered.
“Love you too Sis,” he replied.
A peace had settled over the wizarding world in the weeks after the battle had ended, Kingsley had been made interim minister, the Auror’s were rounding up all of the Death Eaters and slowly as weeks went by things started to return to how they hand once been; the shops began to reopen, Hogwarts was rebuilt.
“Motherhood and marriage seem to suit you,” Minerva commented, the elderly headmistress smiling as she held baby Rose in her arms.
“I do love been a mother,” Hermione smiled, down at little Jasper his red curls sticking out of his blue hat.
“But” the head prompted.
“I never wanted to be the stay-at-home mum, education was always my first priority, I love learning, and will go mad if I am just a mother and a wife, I want to be useful, to help people, I want to be a healer,” she said passionately.
“You’d need NEWTS to pursue a career in healing the older woman spoke, taking a drink of her tea.
“I was hoping you’d let me attend classes, I know you are offering an eighth year for those who wish to return,” Hermione spoke.
“You’re a wife and a mother,” the professor stated.
“I am,” Hermione nodded. Professor McGonagall smiled.
“Hermione you are the smartest student I have ever had the pleasure of teaching, of course you can attend classes, you can use my floo whenever you need, to travel between the school and home.
“Thank you,” Hermione smiled.
“I have a surprise, Fred spoke, leading her through Hogsmeade.
“What is it,” she asked quietly.
“Our new home,” he told her, gesturing to a small cottage.
“Fred, you didn’t,” she asked.
“I did, I believe in you and your abilities, this cottage is close to the school, I want to support you,” he said, smiling as she leaned up to kiss him.
“I love you,” she breathed.
“I love you too Mrs Weasley,” he told her kissing her sweetly.
“MUMMY,” two cries called as she accepted her certificate from Headmistress McGonagall, she’d done it, got her NEWT’s and enrolled with an apprenticeship in heeling at St Mungo’s.
“My floo is always open to you, Hermione,” the professor spoke pulling her into a hug.
“Thank you,” Hermione smiled, walking away towards her family.
“I’m so proud of you love,” Fred told her, kissing her cheek.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she breathed as she leant down to kiss the curly heads of her two children, her babies had grown a lot in the last year.
“You’re going to make an amazing heeler,” he told her.
“I hope so,” she replied laughing as she watched Ginny pounce on Harry, kissing the Auror happily after accepting her own certificate.
“These fucking contractions hurt like a bitch,” Tonks moaned.
“Dora,” Remus hushed.
“Don’t Dora me, it was your prick that did this to me,” Tonks groaned. Hermione laughed, helping her friend into a comfortable position.
“Seven centimetres,” she told the pair after checking how dilated she was.
“Should have seen her when she was in labour,” Tonks mumbled, hissing in pain.
“Let’s keep this professional, Hermione is your healer,” Remus told her, his eyes apologetic.
“Nonsense, Hermione is our friend. Now as I was saying, she was like a goddess, did it with zero pain relief,” the Auror spoke seriously.
“Let’s focus on your labour,” Hermione told her quietly.
“Do you remember our conversation the night of your wedding about sex, pregnant sex really is the best,” the pink haired witch sighed, wincing as another contraction rolled through her, “Remus is a beast,” she sighed.
“DORA,” Remus scolded.
“My husband the prude,” she laughed good naturedly, Remus smiled, leaning down to kiss her brow.
“Oh buggering hell, give me the drugs, Mione,” her friend moaned as another contraction hit. Hermione smiled, grabbing a pain reliver from the cupboard.
“Here you go,” she told her as she passed it to the witch.
“I don’t know how you did this without pain relief,” her friend breathed as she downed the purple potion. Hermione smiled quietly, her hand resting on the barely noticeable swell under her healer’s robes. Perhaps she had a higher pain threshold, or it had been pure determination. Would she do the same with her latest pregnancy she wasn’t sure.
“Your pregnant,” her friend accused, her eyes wide.
“We haven’t told anyone yet,” she confessed a happy smile on her face.
“Congratulations Hermione,” Remus told her pulling her in for a hug.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Pregnant sex is the best Hermione,” Tonks told her with a nod.
“I’m not far enough along for all the hormones,” Hermione replied with a laugh.
“What a beautiful wedding,” Hermione cried as she watched Draco and Luna dance together under the lights of thousands of fairies.
“Not as beautiful as ours was,” Fred smiled, leading her out onto the dance floor.
“Why am I always a whale at weddings,” she asked with a pout.
“Not a whale my love, beautiful.
“LOOK UNCLE HARRY,” their daughter shouted, the five-year-old dragging her bemused godfather after her in search for fairy’s, she held a jar in her spare hand a determined look upon her freckled face.
“She looks more like you each day,” Fred laughed.
“Yes, and your son, looks more and more like you,” she replied gesturing to where Jasper stood, a mischievous smile on his face as he helped his godfather, light fireworks. Fred laughed.
“George will keep him out of trouble,” he told her as he twirled her round in a circle.
“I wounder what this one will be like,” she murmured as she leant against him.
“So long as they are healthy that’s all that matters,” he said leaning forward to kiss her.
“Kingsley came to speak to me,” she told him quietly.
“What did the minister want,” he asked as they danced together.
“He wants me to run for his position,” she confessed, Fred paused, his eyes widening.
“What did you say,” he asked, Hermione nibbled her lip nervously.
“I told him I was a healer, a wife and a mother, that my priority right now was my family and my career. There’re still so many people to help, so many children orphaned during the war, becoming minister would take me away from helping people first hand.
“What did the minister say,” he asked.
“That, he’d keep running until I was ready to accept the role and run myself.” She confessed; Fred laughed.
“My beautiful wife, the future minister,” he smiled.
“I was thinking perhaps once the children are at Hogwarts,” she said.
“I’ll support you with anything you choose to do, my love,” he told her, twirling her in his arms.
“I know you will, just as I support you,” she smiled. Five years on from the war and a lot had changed, the world had been rebuilt better than it had been before. Under Kingsley, there was no segregation or injustice, everyone was treated equally. The Weasley family had continued to expand as members of the next generation were born; Fred and Hermione’s own family had expanded the previous year with the birth of Lola, the one-year-old brown-haired baby was currently content in her grandmother’s arms as Molly swayed at the edge of the dance floor. Their fourth and final child would be born in a few months and the pair couldn’t be happier. Fred and George had taken their shop international, and Hermione had stood happily, watching on as they opened each new store, proud of their accomplishments. She’d successfully reversed the memory charms on her parents, and both had been shocked but no less supportive of her family and choices.
“You know Mr Weasley all of our children are occupied, and the room we booked for the evening is empty,” she said coyly, leaning up to nip his ear with her teeth.
“That is true Mrs Weasley,” he grinned, leaning down to kiss her.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading him to the exit of the hotel ballroom they were in. Tonks smirked at her as she passed the Lupins where they sat with their two children, five-year-old Teddy and six-month-old Hope.
“Oi Hermione,” the Auror called.
“DORA DON’T,” Remus shouted placing his hand over his wife’s mouth, his eyes apologetic as Hermione and Fred ducked out of the room.
“The best sex is pregnant sex,” Hermione muttered with a laugh, Fred smirked, leading her up to their room where he took his time removing the cream and gold dress she was in, worshiping her as they made love, content in the lives they lived together. Whatever happened in the future they’d face it together.
“I love you Freddie,” she whispered as they came together.
“I love you too Mi,” he replied, kissing her sweetly. No Hermione wouldn’t change any part of her life she thought as she allowed her eyes to close, sleep claiming her, not one thing.