Bathwater

Slytherins: Seeing into the Future

Inside of the grand office where all of those who attempted to govern the greatest school known to wizard-kind—Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—sitting on a throne-like chair to make the castle a much greater place for its students, an elderly witch stared furiously at two specific students in front of her.

"Explain yourselves," her voice was harsh, high, and outraged.

The boy winced at the shrill voice of the Headmistress and cowered further into his seat, looking at the young witch seating next to him from the corner of his terrified eyes. Wondering if there was a way he could blame everything on her.

"How dare you disgrace the name of Hogwarts with such vulgarity!" Minerva McGonagall continued to frown at the students, her anger flaring as her nostrils narrowed at the pair. "Have you two no decency—no respect for this ancient castle? This is not, despite your hormones, a place for you to act upon such heated urges!"

The girl blushed a deep red as she looked away from the beady-eyes of the Headmistress; shame written upon her face as she dusted off grass from her skirt and pulled on the hem of her white blouse, noticing that it was badly button-up. (It really was going to take months to be able to walk past the Headmistress without blushing furiously.)

"I do not care of what conditions you two thought gave you the right to consummate on the grounds of Hogwarts!" There was no stopping McGonagall's shouts. " Marriage Law or no Marriage Law, we abide by the rules of this castle first! And such vulgarity, such rudeness, is not tolerated inside these walls!"

"…Technically, we weren't inside of the walls," the boy muttered underneath his breath, his eyes scanning the bare legs of the witch next to him as he continued to stare at the floor with great embarrassment.

"Nor outside on the grounds!" Professor McGonagall hissed, obviously hearing his mumble; looking more appalled by the passing seconds with her students. "Fifty points will be taken from each of you for this barbaric act! And you will be serving detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest! Hopefully then you two will think twice about groping each other in the grounds!"

In the absorbed silence that had suddenly taken place inside of the Headmistress office, between her anger and the students' embarrassment, there was a strained sound of snickering poking at the gaps of the momentary pause.

"I will be writing to your parents, just to see how much more your humiliation can stretch to," the elder witch inhaled sharply. (She wasn't as young as she used to be and these kids were certainly going to kill her. Never in her life did she expect to apprehend students for something so...raw.) "I will also be writing to the Minister as well. I'm sure there is some kind of penalty for the underage restriction of sex, even if you two are bound to marry soon." She paused, collecting herself for a moment at the words she never thought would come out of her mouth.

"I do not care for the Minister's rules," she continued with a clearing of her throat, "but if they have to apply to this situation, then I'm sure Kingsley will be more willing to give you a penalty for consummating the marriage before the actual bonding ceremony."

Wow. How religiously-muggle the Professor turned out to be. Who would've thought that old McGonagall would have a bitch-fit because two students decided to act on their hyper, excited, horny instincts and jump at each other as they laid on the grass.

Oh, wait a minute! Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown discovered that two years ago!Broomstick closets were now in surveillance because of the pair. (Oh, those two were like rabbits when they were together.)

"But, Professor!" The boy stood quickly from the chair, forgetting that the Headmistress scared the living daylights out of him. "Punish us, take away points, send us to the depths of the forest, send us to Azkaban if you wish," the girl stared at her fiancée with a 'speak-for-yourself' glare and shook her head at the boy. (How thick could he get?) "But you cannot write to our parents! It'll give my mother a heart-attack, honest."

Knock. Knock.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and adjusted herself casually and indifferently on her seat. "You should've thought about your mother and the shame you've brought onto yourself before you attempted to disgrace the grounds of Hogwarts."

Knock. Knock.

"You are excused," the Professor lifted her wrinkly palm to the students and dismissed them from her office as the knocking continued at her door.

"…She can't be serious, can she?" The boy whispered, stomping his way towards the door of the Headmistress' office. "I mean, the Minister did say to try and—"

"Shut up," the girl sighed, opening the door.

"—Luna, Dean."

Luna smiled at the brunette on the other side of the door as she removed her hand from the door-handle. "Hermione, what are you doing here? And with Malfoy?" She asked, raising her eyebrow at the pale—well, paler than usual—Slytherin next to her. "You didn't put him under the Imperius Curse, did you? I'm not sure whether the Minister would let that one slide if you did."

Hermione grinned slightly, her eyes drifting to the rigid wizard beside her. "Oh, of course not, Luna. I still abide by our laws, and I'm positive he isn't under a spell." She cleared her throat uncomfortably, trying to push that matter away as quickly as she could. "Why are you and Dean here?"

"No reason," Dean replied quickly, looking away from Hermione's stare and onto Malfoy's blank expression. "We were just saying hello, nothing more."

"Dean," Luna rolled her blue eyes, pulling out a leaf from her long, white-blonde hair with a humorous smile on her face, "and I were on the hills by the Herbology greenhouses when he had the brilliant idea to catch up on some homework. Being a Ravenclaw, and the naive girl that I am, I accepted his offer. Well, to our surprise, Filch caught us in mid-assignment and reported us to the Headmistress."

Dean's dark cheeks gave a red tint. (Why, oh, why did she have to put it like that?)

"For doing homework?" Hermione knitted her eyebrows together, removing her gaze from her fiancée as she gave their clasped hands a hard press. (It was about time he snapped out of it or she was going to snap him in half.) "How barbaric is that? The Headmistress has always encouraged for us to complete our assignments. It's unfair to have Filch drag you from your work for no reason."

Grinning a little mischievously, the Ravenclaw said, "well, Dean can be an animal when it comes to his homework."

"Luna!" The dark-skinned Gryffindor gasped, his brown eyes opening widely. (Well, never in his life did he ever imagine Luna Lovegood was capable of such foreplay with words! Seamus was definitely rubbing off on her. Best mate or not, he was going to be receiving a talking to.)

"Your fault for offering to let me borrow your quill," Luna shrugged nonchalantly. And with a little smile tossed at Hermione, the girl walked passed her and her Slytherin and exited the office with a dreamy giggle.

"I...erm," Dean coughed, scratching his head as he felt immensely uncomfortable by Hermione's questioning stare. "I didn't let her borrow it! She wanted to try it!" He hissed at his fellow house-mate before shoving Malfoy away from his path and storming behind his girlfriend with a deep red flush on his face.

Feeling a little twinge to turn towards Dean and say something, the brunette found herself momentarily still as she wondered what that was about.

"—Miss Granger, if you please."

Shaking away her confusion, Hermione pulled on Draco's hand as she started making her way towards the Headmistress's desk. "How can catching up on some homework be so—" (Oh.) Almost as if a light-bulb went off by the side of her brilliant head, Hermione gagged loudly at the clear revelation and innuendo she had missed.

"Well, Miss Granger, I won't say that I'm surprised, because I really am not, but it's great to see you," Professor McGonagall said seriously behind her desk, but with a happy shine to her small eyes. "Kingsley sent me an owl immediately after you and Mister Malfoy disapparated from his office. And, if I'm blunt to say, I'm very pleased to see both of you together."

Hermione smiled softly at the old woman as she let Malfoy's hand go as she took a seat on his left. (His body barely even registered where the seat actually was. He bumped in to the armrest on his way down.) "Thank you, Professor. It was a rather...interesting moment, if I may say, and well, that's what brings me here."

McGonagall nodded solemnly. "I'm aware of the situation as it is, Miss Granger. I didn't need explaining of why the potion didn't work. I want to say that I'm a bit disappointed in how young you are, but the Ministry does have its laws, doesn't it?"

In the small space of silence that rang after the Headmistress' comment, the echo of snickering was heard once more in the air.

"I presume Mister Malfoy is already informed?"

The brunette sighed. "Yes, he is."

"And things didn't go accordingly?" The Headmistress asked, looking towards the Slytherin with no emotion on her elderly face.

"Actually," a pink hue invaded Hermione's cheeks as she couldn't help the smile tugging on her lips as she turned back to look at her fiancée, "he took it rather well—surprisingly well." Her brown eyes flashed back to her old Transfiguration teacher. "He was silent for a few minutes, not that I can blame him, but after the shock settled in, he was genuinely happy. Which, obviously, was bizarre, but it felt absolutely right."

McGonagall raised a grey brow. "Then what has Mister Malfoy in such a condition?"

The Gryffindor's smile erased completely from her flushed expression. "Erm, well," she cleared her throat uncomfortably, "I told him I had summoned his parents to inform them about the current situation. After I found out in the Ministry about the pregnancy, I had Harry send an urgent owl to Mrs. Malfoy. I thought it appropriate for her to know, she's been so kind through out this entire thing. I felt extremely guilty after...after what happened at Blaise's wedding that I didn't reply to any of the letters Mrs. Malfoy had sent me. I knew it wasn't her fault, but I was infuriated and I wanted nothing associated with the Malfoys."

Professor McGonagall smiled with a hint of pride towards the witch sitting in front of her. "You've acted as I knew you would, Miss Granger. I'm pleased that at least through all of this mishap you've managed to think clearly." And as fast as that smile came, it was wiped away with her usual seriousness. "I've talked to Narcissa on several occasions, as a matter of a fact. And I'm pleased to say that she's rather fond of you, Miss Granger. She's spoken so highly of you that I knew her heart was in the right place all along."

"...Really?" Hermione mumbled, her chest bubbling with warmth as she thought of the beautiful and elegant Narcissa Malfoy.

"Mrs. Malfoy, Miss Granger, has gone through her dark moments, I don't deny that. But she has always been the most noble Black there was, right after Sirius, of course."

Knock. Knock.

Draco took a deep breath from his seat as a soft knocking noise was heard from the opposite side of the Headmistress' door. (Oh, please let it be Lovegood and Thomas being dragged in here by Filch again, he thought to himself in a rushed panic.)

"Sometimes," McGonagall continued in a whisper as she lifted herself from her chair, looking at Hermione softly, "the person reflects what they were so accustomed to. It doesn't necessarily make them a terrible person, it just proves that they are an automatic reflection of what they were taught. And deep inside, scraping off all of the darkness and venom they were infected with at such a young age, you can find the good and the light inside of that person." Her beady eyes moved from the brunette's and onto the silver ones of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione smiled dimly at the woman, nodding once as she glanced towards her fiancée for a quick second. And as she looked at him, scared senseless and as translucent as a ghost, she did see much more to him than the memory of that snotty, arrogant, annoying boy she loathed for years. He was much more than what he preached and cursed in youthful mistakes; he was a person with a soul that longed for warmth, true love, and faith.

Knock. Knock.

"You may come in," McGonagall spoke, her gaze flashing back towards the end of her office as she'd ignored the knocking for another second.

The door opened instantly and, "Headmistress," bounced into the office in less than a moment.

"Good evening, Mister Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said curtly at the blonde man emerging into her office; arm-linked with a tall, blonde woman. Both of them dressed in silky black robes. "Narcissa, good evening. How are you?"

"Nervous," Mrs. Malfoy replied as calmly as she could, her stare dancing towards the two young students in the chairs across from the Headmistress' desk.

The professor gave a single nod. "Well, I'm sure your son and Miss Granger will explain everything," she stepped away from her desk and began her way towards the door. "You'll be alright in here. Now, if you excuse me, I have to patrol the halls and make certain that all students are now in bed." And that was the last thing McGonagall said as she closed the door to her office; leaving Hermione Granger alone with the three Malfoys.

How frightening.

After five seconds of thick, tensed silence, Hermione stood shakily, and far more nervous than Mrs. Malfoy appeared as she cleared her throat. "Erm…Good evening, Mrs. and Mister Malfoy. I am sorry for—"

"What exactly is going on, Hermione?" Narcissa asked hurriedly as she interjected in the middle of whatever the girl was going to say. She pulled her arm from her husband's as she took a hard step towards the brunette, the woman narrowed her eyes. "I haven't heard from you in months. Draco wouldn't say what the matter was, but just that the marriage was off. Then Draco disappears from the manor, and Potter then sends me an owl informing me that you're about to be Obliviated and to meet you at this hour." The pureblood woman took a deep breath, looking red in the face as she tried to ejected out all her concerns and irritations.

With a dark glow radiating out from his silver orbs, Lucius Malfoy scowled at the girl. "Such a grand mess for the Brightest Witch of the Age, don't you think, Miss Granger?"

Silence, and then there was more snickering in the background that didn't belong to the Malfoys or Hermione.

"I was sure—certain, almost, that you were more mature than what roams around here, Miss Granger, and yet you have my wife and son acting like two crazed people wandering off for you."

Hermione frowned, unstirred by his firm stare. (After trying to kill her so many times, she wasn't frighten by the Malfoy-glare that came naturally to every member of that family. In fact, she had grown immune to it and even learned it for her own benefit.) "I assure you, Mister Malfoy, that I didn't have Mrs. Malfoy, nor Draco for that matter, wandering about for me purposely."

"Then?" Mister Malfoy asked simply.

"Things happened between your son and I, Sir," the brunette replied, matching his tone of utter repulsion. "Things that I rather leave out for Draco and mine's comfort. And because they no longer matter at this juncture."

"Respecting that, darling, then why are we here?" Mrs. Malfoy asked as she took the finally steps and she reached Hermione; looking between both students with the same concerned and anxious expression she had on a few moments ago. "Why was it so important for us to Floo here?"

Clearing her throat again, Hermione looked towards her fiancée with a resigned expression. (Oh, sure. When it came to mummy and daddy Malfoy certainly lost all of his manly-bits, huh?) "Well, I've something to inform you," she said gently. "I...I'm not sure how either of you will take it, but you really do have a right to know before anyone else."

Lucius sent another scowl at the muggle-born. His irritation was brewing up quickly that his pale face was starting to burn red and his veins were staring to be visible through his white skin. "Spit it out, Miss Granger, we do not have all night for you."

And then,"I'm pregnant."

Mister Malfoy raised his eyebrow high, taking a puzzled step back.

"I mean," Draco shook his blonde hair, mentally cursing himself for his blurting out in a moment of panic,"Hermione's pregnant," he corrected, feeling stupid as a snicker was heard in the office once again. "We're having a baby."

"No!" Narcissa gasped, gaping at her soon-to-be daughter-in-law with astound eyes.

"Um, yes," Hermione whispered.

"No!" Narcissa's jaw dropped and she brought her palms to Hermione's arms, squeezing her tightly as she continued to gape in complete shock. "No, you're lying."

Hermione shook her head slowly, feeling embarrassed and awkward. "I'm not, Mrs. Malfoy. We're actually having a baby."

"How wonderful!" Draco knitted his eyebrows in confusion as his mother engulfed his fiancée into a tight embrace; squeaking with glee as she grinned widely. (That was surely not normal. He was not expecting that reaction at all.) "Oh, Hermione, my darling! You've made me so happy!"

Wincing from Mrs. Malfoy's tight clutch, Hermione patted the woman's as affectionately as she could from the deadly-hug she was being held captive in. "T-Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," she squeaked from the lack of air, trying to push the woman off now, "but, really, Draco was there too. You can go ahead and congratulate him as well."

Malfoy narrowed his silver eyes at his fiancée, scowling at her with clear annoyance. (Oh, sure. Blame him. Like it was his fault the dirty bookworm was undressing in front of him that night the child was conceived.)

And when she finally was set free from Mrs. Malfoy's tight embrace, just as soon as the latter launched herself to her son, squealing with so much excitement, Hermione turned to the most silent person in the office. "Mister Malfoy?" She called hesitantly.

Looking exactly like his son had, Lucius stood frozen on his feet as soon as the idea drilled its way inside his eardrums. His silver eyes stared blankly at the brunette in front of him—at that girl who he'd loathed instantly when he knew her as nothing more than a filthy muggle-born. (Because he hadn't seen a child, a twelve year-old girl when he first saw her. He'd seen just that, a muggle-born.) She was that girl that he felt no shame on looking down on because her blood was dirty, impure. A girl who he would've not thought twice about leaving an orphan when he saw her muggle parents inside of the famous Wizarding bookstore. She was the girl he hoped that would be taken by the Dark Lord's beast simply because she was on the opposite side of the war that was brewing. She was the girl he tried, time after time, to murder for assisting the Boy-Who-Lived, and simply because she existed.

She was the Mudblood, but she was now also the same girl who was giving him a grandchild. The same girl that was extending his family when there was once a chance that his son would be the last of his legacy. The same girl who, when she was inside, brought life to the Malfoy Manor with her glittering soul of a noblest. The same girl who made his wife smile in such ways that he no longer remembered, partially due because she helped his wife amend the ties between her disinherited sister. (Because that girl was responsible for the last two living Blacks to reunite and feel like a family after so much time.)

This girl—her, Hermione, was the same girl who changed his son. Who was the only person to give Draco a chance to live in the new world. Who by simply accepting him gave him a chance of making it out of a toll of destruction and hate; giving him a chance to see the world and everyone in it with brand-new eyes that no longer discriminated. Because she was the same girl who made his son happy, who made him a better person. (Someone who Lucius would've wished he could've raised from the start.)

"Mister Malfoy?"

And at her voice, at that voice that he'd wanted to silence permanently forever so many times, Lucius heard Hermione Granger's voice for the first time as a girl who now ignited a spark in his decaying heart. As a girl who gave him hope for the future because of what she carried with her—because he now had a grandchild on the way.

"Welcome," Lucius extended his hand towards the brunette, noticing that his wife and son were now staring at him in a complete silence. Both looked very perplexed and with a shocked glow on their faces as his hand met the girl's. "Welcome to the family, Hermione."

Feeling something settle in her heart, something that somehow felt like peace, Hermione couldn't help but to feel her eyes water as she shook the man's hand. (There was no denying this was a giant leap for them.) "Thank you, Mister Malfoy."

And then Narcissa broke into another round of incoherent squeals and mutterings as she rushed to her husband and the girl.

"Silly girl," a drawling voice spoke with a hint of laughter in it.

Feeling happier than he'd ever felt in his entire life—he was positive on that—Draco moved his eyes from his parents and mother of his unborn child to meet painted dark ones. "Amused, are you, Professor?"

"Not at all, Draco," Snape smirked, adjusting the black cloak his portrait had painted on his body. "I'm just satisfied to know that I was right all along. Just like I always am."

"Right about what?" Malfoy asked, aiming a quick glance at the suffocating hug his mother had on her husband and on Hermione; the girl caught in the middle, practically suffocating.

"Well, that you and the insufferable Granger, Draco, paired together would do more wonders ever imaginable." Snape grinned smugly at the boy, his eyes shining with happiness for him. (Even if it was due to the annoyingly-smart girl.)

Now he had to find Dumbledore and inform him of his good deed. After all, he was the one who informed, very accurately if he might say, McGonagall and Shacklebolt that the Sorting-Hat would end up paring the Slytherin Prince and the Gryffindor Princess together. They were the perfect match once stripped from their differences; they were bound to change everything.

Oh, what laughs he had received from them.

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