Story: Abby Jane

Summary: The child of a liaison is being birthed at the moment. "You're going to die." "I know."

Authoressa: Kinda sad.

Abby Jane

Abigail Jane. In the book she had been looking in, she squealed, "That's such a wonderful name!" Abigail meaning 'source of joy,' and Jane meaning 'god's gracious gift.' What a ordinary name for a small, little girl who had meant the world to her mother. Hermione would have loved it. If she had been there.

It seemed that having Hermione and Abigail in the world together hadn't been part of the plan. Being part of the inner circle, somehow Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had been in the waiting room together. Harry had been nervous, twiddling his thumbs and worried over his child. His child.

Draco had to grin to himself. Little did the man know that the child was a toss up. Between himself and Draco. Of course, he'd be outraged. But, he hardly would let go if the child was his, which had been sworn to Hermione a chance of three out of fifteen, because it had only been one time between the two and many more between herself and Harry.

At the same time as the nurse ushered the both of the men in, Harry suddenly found himself unable to see her. So, the dark haired wizard stepped outside and let Draco follow the nurse. After arriving to Hermione's room, doctors were flooded outside and the nurse seemed to be surprised at the conversation.

"She gave birth already. We can't keep her here if she's going to die." Draco pushed past the doctors to see her. At least a glimpse of her, he hoped, and he'd be all right. A flash of hair and then Draco was granted entrance to the room.

Chalk white was the usual description of the room. It was a full, almost off white compared to the face of the witch in the hospital bed. Soft, long curls falling across her head, labored breaths and wracking coughs. He moved beside her bed to look at her, when her eyes opened softly. She smiled at him, simply smiled, and asked, "Where's Harry? And Abby Jane? I want to see them."

He felt his heart break without acknowledgement from her, aside from the slightly pain-filled smile she had given him. He cleared his throat slightly before replying. "Potter got scared-bravery must have slipped." No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep the sadness from his eyes as he watched her frail condition. "Abby Jane, you named her? Wow. I have no clue what they've done with her."

Hermione looked slightly crestfallen, before sitting up slightly at the knock of the door. It slowly opened, when the nurse returned with Harry and Abby Jane, who was comfortably wrapped in a pink blanket. Harry made it over before the nurse and wrapped his arms around Hermione, with a soft kiss to her lips. The nurse awaited Harry to draw back from Hermione, before handing the tired witch her child.

Hermione glanced down at the girl with her eyes closed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Draco would never forget the sound that had made Harry jump away from her. It was a frantic, loudly-toned beep. Doctors looked on from the doors, as Harry turned to them with a frantic movement alike the sound that the machine was emitting.

"Can't you do anything?" The doctors shrugged, which brewed anger inside of Harry, before showing him and Draco out.

A few moments later, they exited, muttering amongst each other. Harry strained to catch bits of the conversation, before Draco heard them mutter the word, "dead."

"Dead? The child? Or the mother?" He asked, Harry's piercing green eyes watching him with remorse. Draco ignored the response, which he probably didn't hear, and probably didn't get, either, and opened the door, shut it, and locked it, against Harry's protesting.

On the bed, the frantic beeping had increased slightly and the rings around the witch's eyes were darkened. She smiled up at the blonde man. "I never knew you were so concerned." She said quietly, as the noises sped up. She hugged Abigail closer to her and looked down at her.

"She looks like me." She said, poking the girl's nose. She was asleep, and Hermione smiled despite the circumstances.

"You're going to die." He said softly, brushing his hands over Abigail's face. Hermione nodded, her hair falling over her shoulders and into her eyes. She watched Abigail for a moment longer before choosing her words carefully.

"I know." The witch sighed, letting Abigail rest beside her without completely letting her go. She looked up at the man and for the first time, he had seen fear in her eyes. Not the fear of being afraid of death, that would never come for her, the fear of her child. He knew it was. He saw her look at Abigail with that look.

"And you're okay with it?" He said, stooping slightly to look at Abigail. He wanted to know if it was his, but he couldn't tell. Abigail looking like Hermione was an understatement. Abigail looked exactly like her mother. Even while sleeping. Again, Draco knew.

"Yeah. Abby Jane's got plenty of people to look after her." Her eyes never left his when she said it. And suddenly, the machine began joining the spaces between the beeps, making them longer, and drawn out. Draco clutched Hermione to him in an attempt at a frantic goodbye. She smiled, her sign of departure, wrapped her arms around him, placed a soft kiss on his lips, and picked up Abigail, who had been disturbing and began to wail.

The last thing she said to him, as the lock opened up on the door, and she saw Harry enter, almost racing towards her bed in slow motion, was, "Take her, she's yours, Draco," before her head leaned back unto her pillow and her eyes closed. Harry collapsed over her body and Draco rocked the small body of Abigail as the long, droning beep would never be erased from his mind.

He looked down at Abigail, who stared back up at him like her mother had a few moments ago. He brushed his hands across the light spread of brown curls across her head. He pressed a delicate kiss to her cheek and another to her forehead and another one to her fingers and to her toes.

And then, he knew.

Abby Jane was his. He looked at her and received Hermione's face; her nose, her mouth, her lips, her smile, her frown, her ears, her lashes, but by Merlin, she had dark grey eyes. They were his eyes, to be exact. Abby Jane looked exactly like Hermione, yet had his eyes.

He found himself lost in her grey eyes, the last time he'd ever see them, because beautiful, god's gracious gift of a child, Draco's source of joy Abigail Jane, would die in the hospital room, like her mother. Just stop breathing and die right there. Sobs halfway out of her mouth, Abigail would stop breathing. The doctors would rush in and take the child from Draco's taut arms and try to restart her heart but to no avail. They handed the dead child to him, of all people, as he accompanied the nurse down the hallway to the infirmary where they put the dead children.

Draco felt put off as his hands let go of the slightly warm from death frame of his child. He wondered why she deserved to die. What happened to her name? What happened to source of joy, God's gracious gift?

Hm.

He sat down outside of the room, watching as the nurse wrapped his child up. He couldn't get the phrase from his mind. His child. Abigail Jane Granger-Potter had been a Malfoy by blood. Had been his soul, his mind, his heart, and he wished that he could have held her for longer than he had. To brush his hands over the hair so much like her mother's, to kiss the skin that he had kissed liked her mother's, to hold the girl in his arms and never let go, like he thought he would with her mother.

And suddenly, he heard it. A loud, droning, beep. He looked around, feeling slightly off put and insane. The beep, he thought quickly, has someone else lost life? But, it was ringing through his ears, shaking his hands, and wracking his heart much like he had watched Hermione's frail, sick body wrack while in the room of her death. And suddenly-he woke up.

Draco wiped the sweat from his brow and could see that the bell for his alarm clock was ringing. He had been having that nightmare for the whole entire week, now. How couldn't he? It was exactly a week since the death of Hermione Jane and Abby Jane Granger-Potter, and he had been having the same, reoccurring dream for the whole week.

He furiously grabbed the wizarding clock and looked at it, unable to find anything worth expressing how he felt over it. Nothing could possibly feel the grief in his heart, nothing could express the pain he felt for losing two things that were his-no. They weren't his. Abigail Jane's birth certificate had his name on it, but her birth name was Abigail Jane Granger-Potter. The only trace of Malfoy was signed underneath the name of the father, which he recognized as his scrawl of a signature.

Hermione hadn't been his, either. She belonged to Potter; she had never been his aside from the three hour moment they had shared blissfully unaware of each other and totally away of themselves as one.

Three out of fifteen, he laughed to himself as he got up. Three out of fifteen, and it must had been number one. As he was told when he was little, there was something about the Malfoy genes for grey eyes that dominated over all others. Even though grey eyes were supposedly recessive, he had overcome his stay while Potter had felt loved, and it turned out Abigail Jane was actually his.

When he had finally made his way downstairs, he found an owl, a simple, small owl with two pieces of parchment in his mouth. He unrolled the first one and watched a picture float down to the floor. He read it first.

Addressed to Mister Draco Malfoy:

Enclosed is the Birth Certificate and Death Certificate of Abigail Jane Granger-Potter. We are sorry to have to seal both of these into one letter, for her loss was greatly surprising. The doctors were sure she would make it out alive. Hope all is well with you and Mister Potter. He was supposed to marry her, wasn't he?

Sincerely,

Hannah Abbot

Head Healer

Department of Infancy and Death

He picked up the picture and looked at it, smiling slightly. It was Abigail Jane, in Hermione's arms. It must have been while they were cleaning her, because Hermione wiped a smidge of blood from her hair and kissed her softly. He watched the two separate rolls for Abigail Jane appear from the letter and he set them on the counter.

He opened the second one, surprised at the frankness of it. There, on the parchment, was two sentences.

I know Abby Jane is yours; Hermione said so and she's never wrong. I'm sorry. HP

Draco looked at the sentences with admiration. Taking the parchments upstairs, he walked into the room beside his own.

Light pink pastel was the color of the room and two frames sat on the dresser of the child-like room. He put both Abby Jane's death certificate and her birth certificate in them, before putting the letters on the wall. He stepped back to look at the room, before leaving, the plaque on the door gleaming back at him.

Memorial to Hermione Jane and Abigail Jane. May they Rest in Peace.

Abby Jane