Title: Malfoy Pregnancy Traditions

Rating: PG-13 maybe R/NC-17 in later chapters

Category: Humor

Pairing: Draco/Hermione

Summary: As Hermione and Draco are having their first child, Narcissa barges in and drives them to insanity as she pushes the new Malfoy matriarch to follow and uphold the dreaded Malfoy Pregnancy Traditions. DMHG HPGW RWLL

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related indicia is the property of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. Inc., Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and others. A teenager who is not very kindly with lawyers made this fic and does not hold claim over the world of Harry Potter. Please do not sue. Instead, please review.

A/N: Okay, my first shot at a humor Draco/Hermione. Hope this works! This story is for my sister, Angelica and her boyfriend, Lloyd. I got the idea for this story when Lloyd mentioned that in his family, during the pregnancy of any family member there are certain traditions that must be upheld to ensure the healthy delivery of the baby. Needless to say, my sister is now wary of marrying the git—er, guy Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

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"Draco! How dare you marry this girl!" Narcissa screeched.

It was the wee hours of the morning. Draco and Hermione stood in the foyer of Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, Draco wrapping a protective arm around his wife's shoulders. The War has been over for a total of four months, and in those four months a lot has happened.

Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived And Saved The World, is now declared an International hero along with all the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Yes, traitorous ferrets and greasy-haired professors included, though said professor tragically died in the war. The aforementioned ferret was Draco Lucius Abraxas Black Something-Something Malfoy, who turned to the light after he was considered a traitor to the dark, and he had seen the error of his ways, blah blah blah.

The Wizarding world was slowly getting back in its track and rebuilding projects have been going on under the watchful eye of Arthur Weasley, temporary Minister of Magic.

Also, after the War, surprises popped up.

Including the heart-stopping scandal of one Mad-Eye Moody who declared himself a homosexual.

But the juiciest gossip in the street is the secret marriage of Draco Malfoy—Pureblood, arrogant prat, prejudiced scum bag, traitor to the Dark Lord—and Hermione Granger—Muggleborn, house-elf lover, best friend of Harry Potter, all in all goody two shoes—which occurred sometime during the middle of the war. When Draco joined the Order to work as a spy, one thing lead to another, he and Hermione fell in love, and decided to marry as soon as possible in case something happens during the Final Battle.

In truth, Draco couldn't wait to get into Hermione's pants and Hermione wanted to wait until her wedding night to give up her virginity.

Which, surprising to say, is non-existent, as Draco was about to discover with bitter disappointment.

Hermione forgot the fact that sometime around sixth year, she and some unknown Gryffindor boy got drunk and had raunchy sex in the boys' dormitories.

Hermione was wise enough to withhold the boy's name in case her fiery husband would demand retribution for such an offense against his wife.

Really though, Draco was afraid of syphilis and other STDs, so marrying a virgin makes the risk lesser for him to catch any disease associated with people who sleep around.

Why do you think Draco avoided Pansy Parkinson like the plague during his times at Hogwarts even though in public they were hailed as the Prince and Princess of Slytherin?

It was only for show as his bastard for a father said that he should marry a nice Pureblood whose family had connections with Voldemort and chose Pansy.

Draco immediately concluded that his father was harboring some kind of grudge against him. That or he was secretly in love with the slut.

Draco thought about Pansy and his father in the same room—much less, same bed—and felt his gag reflex stimulated.

In the end, Draco forgave Hermione, because he loved her.

And she was clean of any infections.

Plus, she was good in bed. Who was he to refuse such a woman?

Anyway, back to the story.

Draco thought that since the war is over and his bastard of a father is six feet under, he should bring home his wife to Malfoy Manor where they could live and have little Dracos and Hermiones running around the manor.

He didn't think that his mother would be there.

Nor did he consider the fact that after Lucius, she was the highest stuck-up pureblood in all of Britain.

So him marrying a Muggleborn was out of the question for Narcissa.

Also not discounting the fact that it was Hermione who killed Lucius, got the Malfoys fined heavily for their transgressions (Draco didn't object here and thought that it was a marvelous idea, but he was only thinking of keeping his nuts right where they are), and was slowly fighting for house-elf liberation.

Now the first two Narcissa could dismiss.

She wanted to be free of that idiot she called her husband, and the Malfoys have more than enough money to spend in ten lifetimes even if she went on a hog-wild shopping spree.

But she could never forgive this woman for trying to free house-elves. Who would carry her shopping bags and make sure that her silk robes were always immaculate?

That was a transgression worth the Dementor's Kiss in Narcissa's book.

"I said, what is she doing here?" Narcissa demanded.

"Mother," Draco said in his most imperious tones. "I am now the Head of this house. Hermione is now my wife. As such, she will be living here with me, whether you like it or not."

"I will not allow this!"

"Then far be it for me to make you stay. After all, you yourself said that you cannot stand her presence."

"You are turning your back on your own mother?!"

"Why, yes, I guess I am. I love Hermione, I married her, and I say that she stays. Plus, we're going to have a baby. Yes. You're going to have a half-blood grandchild! Congratulations! A first for the Malfoy line!"

Sarcasm is a weapon. Rule 78 of the Malfoy Ethics—though any kind of ethics or morals whatsoever were very much non-existent in the Malfoy family.

It was always really stereotypical of dark families.

There was supposedly a club for all the dark families in the world and they set the rules on how they should act.

Including how to sneer properly. And never wetting your pants in the face of your worst enemy having much more power than you could ever have.

"This cannot happen! I refuse to believe it!" Narcissa fumed before disappearing up the grand staircase.

"This went well, didn't it darling?" Draco turned to his wife.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Her husband could really be annoying on how he played things down.

But then again, he more than compensated for it with his other admirable qualities, which come up to a total of five.

His sexy body, his intelligence, his keen wit to get out of any trouble (counting the times he had escaped—tactically retreated—from the retribution of his hormonal wife), his talented lips, and last, certain parts of his anatomy that will only be seen by Hermione.

Or blood will run the streets when other people do.

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After heated arguing that ended in great make-up sex, Draco decided not to live in Malfoy Manor with his bride.

Okay, it was also after Hermione decided that she can't live in that house, and if he wants to live there, then she would leave him.

Damn sneaky woman!

But then again, that house gave him the willies, even after living in it for most of his life, excluding the time he attended Hogwarts.

So, in true Malfoy fashion, he had arrogantly Flooed his real estate agent, had ordered a new manor that was beside the sea on a hill and whatever else specifications he got from reading Hermione's raunchy romance novels, and had found himself the new owner of a small palace.

Hermione nearly throttled him when he complained that it was three rooms lacking than the original Malfoy Manor.

Another debate came up when it was time to decorate.

Of course, Hermione wanted it to be in soft colors of cream, gold, and touches of red here and there. Plus little statues and objects that would depict lions, cherubs, and fairies.

Draco, ever the Slytherin, wanted black, green, and silver to match the snake and dragon ornaments he picked out.

They came to an agreement. Hermione would decorate everything outside the bedroom.

The bedroom was Draco's domain.

Though Hermione reluctantly agreed to have their bedroom be in the hands of her husband, she secretly delighted in the fact that Draco would attempt to make it look very sexy and comfortable.

And she was right.

The room was done in muted grays and blacks, giving it a dark yet alluring feel. The large, four-poster bed made Hermione never to want to leave it again. The pillows and sheets were a soft gray while the comforter was a dark green. The canopy that hung above was black, edged in silver. Heavy curtains that covered the floor-to-ceiling windows and french doors leading to the balcony were also black, but this time, edged in gold. All of the furniture were priceless antiques and made of the finest materials.

"Nothing but the best for my wife," Draco smirked when Hermione stepped in the room after redecoration.

It took them ten seconds flat to de-virginize the silk sheets of the king-sized bed.

"I love this bed," Hermione gushed as she settled between the sheets. Draco immediately pulled her flush against him and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Yes, and I made it this way so you won't want to leave the bed, at least not with me in it," Draco replied.

"And it will be special because we are making the rest of the Granger-Malfoys here," Hermione muttered.

"How many children do you want, love?" Draco asked as a gesture of his affection. Really, he already had a set number in his mind, but he realized that asking Hermione about important details like this first before charging head-on without her consent and knowledge made her want to stay in bed with him for a longer time than normal.

"Um…how about five? That should be enough, I think."

"Five? Why not try ten?"

"You're saying that because you're not the one who's gonna get into labor ten times."

"Listen, Hermione. I came from a small family; I'm an only child like you. I grew up never knowing what it's like to have brothers and sisters, so it's natural that I don't want my children to feel like that. I want them to know what it's like to have a large family."

"You do have a point…it is terribly lonely."

"Also, in that large number, we wouldn't have to argue whether our kids are sorted into Slytherin and Gryffindor. Even if some of our children end up in Ravenclaw or Slytherin, chances are that the others could also be in Gryffindor, so no worries."

"You didn't mention them ever having to go to Hufflepuff."

"I'll die before I let my child go to Hufflepuff!"

"Really, Draco. You're so prejudiced!"

"I'm not. I married you."

"And that's only because I saved your sorry ass and was the only one in the world who would take care of you while you were injured during the war."

"Hey, I managed to look past blood…and certain hair issues…and loved you more than enough to marry you and have babies with you!"

"Okay, don't pout, sweetie. Fine, ten children it is. No more, no less, deal?"

"I love you."

"And I love you."

Yes, another shagging session was in order.

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"So what I'm saying is that I apologize deeply for how I acted the last time I saw you," Narcissa said as she took a dainty sip from her cup. "It was way out of line. Stress, I suppose is the main culprit there."

Draco, Hermione and Narcissa were in the back patio of the couple's new home having a mid-morning tea. Narcissa stopped by moments before, asking for forgiveness for how she had acted against Hermione.

"You did offend and insult my wife, Mother," Draco bit icily as he wound a protective arm around his wife's waist. "But since you came all the way to apologize, I guess I could forgive you. Hermione?"

"Yes, well, Mrs. Malfoy—"

"Call me Narcissa. That title is now yours, my dear."

"Um, okay. Narcissa, I cannot deny that your words and actions hurt me, but I also cannot deny that every person deserves a second chance, so yes, I do accept your apology."

"Thank you, that's wonderful!"

To their surprise, Narcissa got up and helped Hermione to get up as well.

"How far are you along, dear?"

"I'm three months on the way…why?"

"We don't have much time. I need to call the shaman immediately. Draco, would you be a dear and prepare me a Potions lab?"

"Shaman? Potions lab? Why do you need those?"

"Draco, it's tradition. In the Malfoy line, every woman who is pregnant must undergo through rituals and traditions. I went through it for the time I was pregnant with you."

"What's the purpose of that?"

"Why, to ensure the delivery of a healthy, bouncing child! Look, thanks to the Malfoy Pregnancy Traditions, I had you, my pride and joy! You were the cutest, most adorable, and frankly most spoiled child I had ever seen!"

"Mother, pinch my cheeks again and I will not hesitate to hex you."

"DRACO!"

"Don't you talk to me that way!"

"Don't you talk to your mother that way!"

"Fine. Sorry, Mum."

"That's okay, dear…. Ah! Don't you dare walk another step, young lady!"

"What's the matter, Narcissa?"

"When the woman is around three months along, her feet must never touch the ground. Draco, get some cloth; we need to cover the ground she's stepping on!"

"But I'm wearing shoes anyway…."

"Nonsense, dear. Don't just stand there, Draco! Get me some cloth! Her child will be riddled with the evil spirits of the ground if you don't act fast! This is my first grandchild and I will not have that!"

It's safe to say that life in the new Malfoy Manor will never be as peaceful again…at least, until Hermione's labor.

They were wrong when they thought that in months, their lives would be normal again.

Not with Narcissa Black Malfoy breathing down their necks.

Draco prayed to every god and deity he could think of to shoot down some lightning bolt to end his misery.

Unfortunately, no such lightning bolt came.

The gods must hate Draco.

He concluded that the gods wanted to make the most handsome, most powerful, most desirable, and wealthiest bastard to grace the planet to provide some sort of beauty in this fucked up world, Lord Voldemort a glaring point in question. Therefore, Draco was born.

But the gods realized that he was too perfect and decided to mess up his life instead because it would be a waste to destroy such a physically and intellectually flawless man.

He had Lucius for a father. He fell in love with a know-it-all who, since Yule Ball fourth year, had only seen a brush during their wedding day. His mother hated his wife (Draco did not miss the look of revulsion in Narcissa's face even as she apologized). Said mother is also pushing him to the brink of insanity. His wife's hormonal imbalances are hell. Add to that her weird cravings for strawberry and pickle ice cream, yuck! And (most unforgivable of all) just this morning, he saw small pimple in his flawless face, just above his eyebrow. The anti-acne potion couldn't work too fast for him; he still could feel a small bump on his forehead even after he'd covered the damn thing with a nice Concealing spell.

Effing jealous assholes!

But when he looked at Hermione being fussed over, his over-active imagination made him think how she would look good in the new lingerie he bought for her to wear tonight in celebration of their two-year anniversary.

Yes, the gods may hate Draco Malfoy, but there was still someone in hell looking out for him.

He briefly wondered if his father already dethroned Satan yet. Or, more likely, became his second-hand man. Or maybe Voldemort dethroned Satan, then he became the new Lord of the Underworld, then Lucius became his second-hand man again.

Better think of Hermione in a thong.

It helped him relax, but also made certain parts of his anatomy harden and ache.

Without warning, he scooped his wife into his arms.

"Draco! What are you doing? Put her down!"

"Sorry, Mother. We have more pressing issues. And I'm carrying her, so no fear of evil ground spirits!"

They left Narcissa alone in the gardens, wondering when her son would stop using his over-active imagination.

That boy nearly gave her a heart attack when he imagined that Blaise Zabini would look great in a thong.

So, in a way, she was delighted to hear that he had married a woman, even though she was Muggleborn.

And had a very active sex life to boot.

She just hoped that it was only with women.

Or there will be hell to pay.

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A/N: Do you like it or hate it? Constructive criticisms would be nice. Please, REVIEW!