Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alpha will be so pleased!

Despite her inner Omega preening and purring at the two blue lines on the pregnancy test, Hermione felt like she was going to throw up—again.

This couldn't be happening.

This shouldn't be happening.

She was on the bloody pill! She'd been religious about taking it, like it was communion and her soul's route to heaven depended on taking that little pink pill every day at seven pm. But there was absolutely no denying the results staring her in the face.

Not when this was the third test to come up with those same bloody blue lines.

Pregnant.

She was fucking pregnant.

Twenty-four-years-old, barely making ends meet, and now she was about to be saddled with a baby because her birth control had failed her. Oh, and that didn't even begin to cover the problem of said spawn currently growing in her womb's decidedly unknown paternity, because if matters weren't complicated enough already, there was the fact she was actively dating (and shagging) two men.

A soft knock at the door startled her out of her dumbfounded shock and she jumped, sending the pregnant test clattering to the floor.

"Shit!"

"You alright, love?" Remus' dulcet tones dripped with concern.

She could see his face in her mind's eye: heavy set brow, lips slightly downturned, those adorable little wrinkles trisecting his forehead. God, had she not just confirmed that her mysterious illness was indeed a parasite in the form of a fetus, she might have kissed him once she made it out of the loo.

"Yeah! Just fine!" It wasn't technically a lie, right?

"Okay. Sirius just got back with the soup. We'll be in the kitchen waiting."

"Thank you. I'll be out in just a minute."

Hermione waited until the shuffle of his footsteps faded before rising from the toilet. She yanked up her knickers and leggings and gathered the evidence of her discovery. Her hands trembled as she shoved everything into the Tesco bag.

When she looked in the mirror she realised that even if she wanted to lie and tell them nothing was wrong, they'd never believe her. Her face was nearly gaunt, ashen without any colour in her cheeks, and her normally semi-contained curls were a mess on the top of her head.

For the past week she'd felt like utter shit.

Not the normal, 'oh I am just staying up too late' kind of sick, no. It was the 'vomiting her brains out and having to use the loo more times a day than she cared to admit' kind of sick. At first she'd thought she might have caught a bug. She had picked up a couple side gigs delivering groceries since her copy editing work had slowed down because Harry and her landlord did not accept IOUs as a form of currency.

With her increased exposure to the dreaded public, it was only logical to assume she'd fallen ill.

But then it hadn't gone away. She was nauseous all the time and nothing seemed to provide relief.

Then this morning she'd woken up with a new ailment, one she absolutely could not pretend was a symptom of an airborne virus.

Her breasts hurt. A lot. It had actually been the pain that woke her up from a dead sleep. Sirius had been fondling her in his sleep, as he often did—a habit that normally led to very welcome consequences—but this morning she'd almost cried from the pain.

Of course, she hadn't connected the dots to put her oh so obvious list of symptoms together. No, she had been living in blissful ignorance until Harry had sent her that bloody text.

Harry: Are you pregnant?

Ugh, she could kill him now. Not that this was his fault.

He certainly hadn't knocked her up, nor had he forced her to have copious amounts of sex with her two boyfriends over the past two months. But, in this moment, she could still blame him for ruining what was supposed to be a nice weekend with the two men who had steadily secured a place in her life.

Things with Sirius and Remus had been going amazing. For the first time in her life, she felt like things were on track—at least in the romantic part of her life. She was happy. Sure, there were days she still grappled with the guilt over ruining their marriage. And, yes, she still made a point to remind them that anytime they wanted to end their arrangements, she would bow out without hesitation.

Her growing feelings aside, there was a Remus and Sirius well before there was a Remus-Hermione-Sirius sandwich, and she refused to get in the way of their marriage.

Now, though, in light of everything… it felt like that might be bloody impossible.

A bitter laughter bubbled up her throat, and before she could help it, hot tears collected in the corners of her eyes. She set the plastic bag on the counter, wiping trembling fingers under her eyes and brushing away the tears as they began to fall. She hurried to turn the sink on so the sound of the water could mask her quiet sob.

She had so many plans for her future.

So many places she wanted to visit.

So many things left on her list she wanted to do.

And having a baby…

Well, that wasn't exactly in her five year plan.

It had taken her an additional fifteen minutes to finally pull herself together enough to form a plan and make her way out of the washroom.

There was no hiding this secret, not when their weekend plans had consisted of wine tasting and eating soft cheeses—both of which would be very much out of the question per her frantic Google search after the first positive test.

She shuffled through the living room and into the kitchen, dingy off-white socks sliding across the polished wooden planks. Still wrapped in Sirius' hoodie, she rubbed the sleeves across her mating glands, trying to soothe the wild call to flee or spontaneously combust.

She'd barely made it beyond the threshold of the kitchen when the sharp clatter of metal hitting porcelain echoed and she looked up to see Sirius rise from the table.

"Omega."

He rarely used her designation outside of the bedroom, and usually had impeccable control over his Alpha impulses, but she could tell he sensed her distress. She didn't need to be an Alpha to know the pheromones her body was excreting provided a clear picture of her feelings.

Anxious. Upset. Terrified.

Alpha. Alpha. Alpha.

Her inner Omega lunged forward in her mind, practically begging her to run across the room and throw herself in his arms. But she fought the urge. Her feet felt as if they were laden with lead weights.

Sirius' eyes darkened. Protective pheromones rippled off his body in intoxicating waves, and masked the scent of the steamy soup that sat on the kitchen table. He moved closer and opened his arms, but Hermione shook her head, fingers pressing against her lips as she warred with another wave of tears that crept up.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Remus stayed at the table, body taut, perched on the edge of the chair. From the way he gripped the arms, he was fighting against his own instinct to run and take care of her. And that loving, nurturing, caring nature that she was so infatuated with made this news all the worse in her mind.

Sirius and Remus loved one another.

She was just a bonus in their lives until they grew bored of her presence, and then…

Well, then she'd move on and they would still be happily married.

But what would this baby mean? Would they hate it? Would they hate her?

They'd been together for nearly two decades and had never had children. Yes, biologically speaking they couldn't have children together, but they could have easily hired a surrogate or adopted. Omega Birthing Services were popular—and abundant. If they'd wanted children before…

Black thoughts plagued her mind. Ill-begotten 'what-ifs' reinforced the notion that this budding life would ruin the world around her. Dread forced a tight band across her chest. It was impossible to take a full breath.

"I… I can't."

Sirius stood just an arm's length away, thick wrinkles of worry creasing his forehead. He was warring with himself. As he pulled his lips into a frown, she could see the Alpha inside trying to claw to the surface, demanding he intervene.

She took a step back.

Their brownstone, which was normally perfect, now felt stifling, like the furnace was on full blast. Sweat trickled down her spine and she gasped, bending at the waist and pressing her palms against her knees as she took shallow gulps of air.

"Hermione, just breathe."

Distantly, she could hear a chair scraping across the kitchen floor, but everything suddenly sounded like she was metres below a water's surface. Her nails dug into her leggings, trying to induce some sort of pain to focus on instead of the undercurrent of anxiety that was dragging her down.

"Omega?"

She couldn't breathe.

No matter how hard she tried, her lungs simply wouldn't fill.

That overwhelming need for fresh air short-circuited her pain.

She needed to get outside. Now.

The cool, fall air would help. It would ease the burning flush of her skin, it would be the reminder that this mounting pressure and despair she suddenly found herself suffocating from wasn't real, that it was just a trick of her mind.

She rose to her full height, intending to push past the two men hovering in front of her, but as soon as her spine straightened, the world spun off its axis. There was barely a moment to react, not nearly enough time to prepare herself for the way her legs gave out. She briefly felt the sharp smack of her knee against the polished wood, but the rapid thump of her pulse drowned out all noise as she landed on the kitchen floor.

Her world narrowed, vision reduced to two tiny pinpoints before everything faded to black.

The heavy scent of pine was what finally woke her. It wasn't just pine, though. No. Pine, antiseptic, and a pungent punch of bleach. It was overwhelming. Her inner Omega wailed from the violent churning in her stomach.

This wasn't the Brownstone. This certainly wasn't her flat.

Wherever she was, it absolutely was not home.

Her nose wrinkled, face scrunching up into a grimace as she shifted on a bed that felt more akin to a rock than the plush mattress she was used to.

Where the fuck was she?

"While we understand you cannot release any information due to privacy laws—"

"Fuck the laws. She's… she's my-she's our ma—"

"She' our girlfriend, Sirius. In the eyes of the United Kingdom, that doesn't grant us access to her medical information, and there's nothing we can do to change that right now."

The growl that followed made her pulse race, and it was only then that she realised the shrill beep acting as some sort of metronome to her boyfriends' row was ticking in time with her heartbeat. Her eyes cracked open, and the fluorescent lights blurred her vision.

"Unfortunately, Mr Lupin is correct. Legally, my hands are tied. I cannot release any information about Ms Granger's condition."

A middle-aged man in a white coat stood at the end of the bed. A tablet was tucked under his left arm, and wire-rimmed glasses were perched on the middle of his Grecian nose. He didn't seem phased by the way Sirius paced the side of her bed, his body rigid, every muscle preparing for a fight. No, he didn't seem bothered at all by the prowling Alpha.

In fact, if anything, he seemed totally and utterly unamused.

"Bollocks! She fainted in our bloody flat! We rode in the ambulance with her! I signed all her paperwork. You have to be able to tell me something!"

Remus winced when Sirius punctuated his point with a kick that sent the metal rubbish bin tumbling across the room. He flashed a sympathetic smile at the physician before uttering a hushed apology.

"Because neither of you are her next of kin, there is very little I can say." The physician pulled his tablet from under his arm and tapped the white stylus across the screen. "However, due to your designation, as well as Ms Granger's, the law does allow me to report that the fetus seems unharmed by her medical event."

Had she been more coherent, and less 'just woke up from fainting' foggy, she might have spoken up. She might have announced that she was no longer asleep, or even tried to hurry to change the subject. Instead, Hermione lay still, not daring to move a single muscle, not even allowing herself to breathe as she watched the scene unfold.

It was like watching a slow motion car crash. She could see it coming, the impact of the news, but she was unable to prevent it from happening.

Sirius' stalking slowed until he was frozen at the foot of the bed, eyes going wide as he looked at the thin cotton throw that covered her legs. Flexing his hands at his sides was the only indication that he was actually alive instead of some piece of carved granite.

"I'm… I'm sorry." Remus cleared his throat, blinking through his stupor. "I think I misheard. Did you say fetus? As in…" He couldn't even finish the sentence, as if verbalising her 'condition' would somehow make it more real.

"As in with child, yes. Ms Granger appears to be about six to eight weeks along according to her current hCG levels." The physician didn't even look up, stylus sliding across what she could only assume was her chart at a rapid speed. "Though, my estimate could be off. It is difficult to know for certain with Demi-humans, due the construction of the glycoprotein."

"Oh," Remus uttered the single syllable word, his eyes falling from the physician. The little colour in his cheeks drained as he claimed a small space on the bed near her feet, rubbing his hands together between his knees.

Her heart sank, watching as the two men she'd come to care for seem to process this news. She didn't expect them to be happy—hell, she wasn't happy. She'd expected them to be pissed, to be outraged, to even deny it, but this? This devoid of any sort of emotion reaction almost seemed worse.

She couldn't read either of them.

Remus was normally so easy to gauge, he wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions danced in his eyes. And she could always scent Sirius.

But here in the room that smelled too much like pine soaked clinical sterility, she couldn't make out a damn thing.

As if the universe were conspiring against her, the machines beside her head suddenly wailed to life. Shrill beeps screamed from the machine as three sets of eyes snapped towards her.

"It would do well to actually breathe, Ms Granger." The physician slid his pen into his tablet case and tucked it under his arm as he walked around Sirius, who hadn't moved a centimetre except to lift his head and look at her.

Hermione gulped down the large lump that had formed in her throat under the weight of Remus and Sirius' dual gaze. Taking in a slow, deep breath, she ignored the doctor who was fiddling with the machines at her bedside.

Her oxygen deprived brain seemed to settle from the influx of fresh air, and the staccato of her heart's rhythm returned to normal. She didn't know what to say or what to do. It wasn't like leaving the room was an option, not with an IV bag hanging from her bedside, and she very much doubted anyone currently in the room would allow her to put even a toe on the ground.

Instead, Hermione did the one thing she seemed to excel at in life. She put her foot in her mouth.

"Surprise?"

Thankfully, Remus was the first to react. A breathy slip of laughter rumbled from his chest and he shook his head as he rubbed his hands over his face. "Jesus Christ, Hermione." He pinched the skin between his eyes, taking a slow breath. "What the bloody hell are we going to do with you?"

"I'll tell you what we'll do." Sirius turned, grey eyes flickering between the physician and her, as if watching to make sure he didn't do a thing to harm her—protecting her. He took a decisive step closer to her, his heavy boots squeaking on the polished floor. "We're going to—"

"Arrange for proper prenatal care and make sure she begins the vitamins I ordered." The doctor cut Sirius off, clearing his throat to remind the Alpha that he was still in the room, and still very much in charge of her medical care. "Fainting spells aren't uncommon in Demi-human pregnancies, and based on your low iron count, I am not surprised. Typically, I would recommend an infusion, but due to your condition, I'm not comfortable proceeding. My specialty is not Obstetrics and certainly not Demi-human Obstetrics."

Hermione nodded, fingers curling into the scratchy cotton blanket, and she nodded. Her mind was reeling, trying to catalogue the information. "Should I be concerned… about the low iron?"

Protect Pup! Pup needs to be safe!

She fought past the snarling inner Omega, wishing now more than ever that the bitch would stay at bay.

The doctor paused, eyes lifting in thought as he moved across the room. "Were you not anemic before conceiving?"

Conceiving.

Christ, that word felt so formal. Like this was an intended result of their actions as opposed to the entirely accidental life growing inside her.

"Uh… not that I'm aware of."

"My gut reaction is to say no. Anemia is not uncommon with Demi-humans in general, and certainly would not be uncommon in the case of pregnancy. I would advise you to start the prenatals, as they do have iron, and again, see an Obstetrician who specialises in your designation." The doctor pulled his tablet from under his arm again and unclipped his stylus. "I do not feel it is needed to keep overnight, however, I would like to let the IV finish. You were slightly dehydrated when we admitted you, which I am going to guess is in part due to the morning sickness your…"

The doctor's voice trailed off. He looked between Remus and Sirius, as if trying to figure out what term would best apply in this situation.

"Boyfriends." Remus reached out and took a hold of her foot, giving it a fond squeeze through the blanket. "We're her boyfriends."

"Right. Boyfriends." The doctor hummed, eyes slowly returning to the screen. "I can also put in an order for an anti-nausea medication to help tide you over until you can see a specialist. In the meantime, sit tight. I'll have my nurse come check on you in a moment, and as soon as the bag is finished, we can discharge you."

"Okay." Hermione bit her bottom lip, eyes drifting down to look at her stomach. Though it was still flat(ish), she knew it was only a matter of time before it would round out with life. Anxiety tickled at the base of her spine, worry settling in until the beep of her heart rate increased.

"Any questions?"

"Nope," Sirius and Remus replied in unison, and for the first time, she was thankful they were speaking for her.

The doctor shuffled from the room, letting the door close with a heavy snap behind him.

The steady beep of her bedside machines seemed to be the only noise that filled the room. As the eerie pseudo-silence settled in, Hermione couldn't bring herself to look at either of them. She couldn't risk finding the hurt or anger she suspected would follow the news of her pregnancy.

"Omega?"

She shivered, the call to answer her Alpha practically making her lurch out of her own skin. But she didn't move. She was scared—no, scratch that, she was terrified.

Would this be the end of them? Would she have to face the prospect of handling this on her own? She could barely afford rent, how the hell was she going to have a bloody baby?

In her periphery she could see Sirius' black boots as he moved up the side of the bed. Soon, the press of his fingers and thumb curling around her chin followed. He tipped her head up with a gentle tap, and she was surprised to find a softness in his eyes. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen it before. Stroking her cheek with his thumb, his lips curled ever so slightly upward as he peered down at her.

"We'll figure this out. Together." The burden of her fear seemed to lessen as Sirius spoke, like his words were a light at the end of a very dark tunnel. "You're not alone."

"He's right," Remus added from the foot of the bed. Sliding his hand sliding up to curl around her ankle, he pressed his fingers into the pressure point at her heel. "We're here for you."

She wanted so badly to believe them.

She wanted to tell those dark voices in her head that this was going to be okay.

So, for now, she allowed herself to pretend like this was fine. Because if this was it for them—if this was going to break up their relationship—she wanted their last moments to be fond ones.

"I know." She leaned into Sirius' touch, eyes fluttering closed as a familiar warmth settled in her heart. "Thank you—both."

Chapter Text

"Pregnant? As in…" Harry's eyes slid down her body to her stomach, his lips curling in a grimace.

Hermione couldn't really blame him for the less than enthusiastic reaction. Hers had been about ten times worse. It wasn't exactly like either of them were in any position to become parents—though, technically, Harry would have been better suited. At least he had a full time job and seemed to have a better grasp on adulthood… most of the time.

"Is there some other way to be pregnant that I'm not aware of?" Her palms dug into the edge of his door frame, nails tapping against the aged wood as she watched Harry sit up from his prone position in his bed and scrub his hands across his face.

"Are you… are you certain it's not just a food baby?"

Christ. She wished.

"Yup." She popped her p for emphasis then pressed her lips together as she gave him a slow nod. "I peed on like… four test and they all lit up and the hospital ran a blood test."

"Jesus Christ." Harry rested his elbow on his bent knee and cupped his jaw, eyes glazing over in that familiar, faraway look he often wore when he was lost in thought.

Hermione shifted nervously, shuffling from one foot to the other as her eyes drifted away from her friend and to the floor. She didn't need to be a bloody mind reader to know precisely what he was doing, which made the guilt she already felt that much worse.

Harry was planning for their future.

How would a potential baby fit into their lives?

While Harry and her were certainly not together in that sense, their lives were forever intertwined. They leaned on one another. Harry was an orphan who didn't really have anyone else, and she was an only child. Harry was the brother she'd always longed for, and she was the family he needed. They'd made their own makeshift family over the years, and because Harry was the kind of man he was, she knew he was willing to put his life on a new trajectory just to help her.

He was kind, selfless, and probably the best man she'd ever known. Which is precisely why she felt horrible. Truthfully, she wouldn't even know how to begin to support him if the roles were reversed. Hermione looked back up to find him unmoved with that same glassy-eyed look from before.

Her heart shattered.

"Stop." Her voice cracked like she was some teenage boy as opposed to a twenty-four-year-old woman. Pushing off his door frame, she crossed the narrow distance to his bedside and claimed the spot beside him. "Harry, this isn't your problem."

His eyes softened on her, and even in the shell-shocked dawn, she could see the tenderness that always lived in those beautiful emerald irises. If anyone had a reason to be broken, bitter, and fed-up with life, it was Harry Potter. Dead parents meant being shuffled between group homes and foster families his whole life—he should be angry. But, instead, he chose happiness.

And her? Well… right now she was choosing to ignore her own dread.

"'Mione."

"No, seriously. Don't." Reaching out, she placed her hand on his leg, making sure to hold his gaze. She took a slow breath, trying to collect herself before she ended up in a puddle of her own tears like she had at Remus and Sirius'. The absolute last thing she needed was another nervous breakdown. "You know I love you, right?"

Harry nodded, chin still resting in his palm. "I do."

"More than anything."

"Mhm."

"Then you are aware I cannot let you rearrange your life to try and white knight me, right?"

Harry's eyes dropped to her hand, bearing a look far too similar to a guilty canine than a human. "'Mione, it's not like that. I want to help."

"I know you do, but… Harry, this—" She moved her hand to rest against her abdomen. "This isn't a problem you can solve. It's my responsibility."

She'd come to rely on Harry to be her rock through every tough situation. When she'd broken up with her first boyfriend in year seven, he'd been there to dry her tears. When she'd gotten caught with Lavender's flask of whiskey during year ten, he'd ran down to the office to back up her claim, and when she couldn't afford rent, he always helped cover her portion until she was paid.

And this? This growing life inside her, well… that was absolutely not something she was going to burden him with.

They were best friends, platonic soul mates, and chosen family, and that was precisely why she could not allow him to upend his life.

His eyes followed her hand and he chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip, absorbing her words before he nodded.

"Okay… okay. I'll stop." His hand sank into his hair, as it often did, and he ruffled his untidy black locks. The old habit he could never quite break, which normally drove her mad, was a relief. If he was willing to fall into that sense of normalcy, then maybe it wouldn't really change things.

Or, at least, not for the worst.

Leaning over, he pressed a quick kiss on her forehead, his stubbled chin scratching against her skin. As he pulled back, the tiniest hint of a smile curled on his lips. "Well, since I'm up at this ghastly hour…" Harry made a dramatic gesture towards his alarm clock. "Should we go get coffee?"

"God, yes!" She wasn't certain she'd ever uttered a response so quickly in her life. Coffee was normal. Coffee was comforting. Coffee meant she wouldn't have to think about her life at large. Coffee with Harry was exactly what she needed. "I should change first. Give me five?"

"Works for me." He was already untangling his limbs and sliding off the mattress.

Rising from the bed, Hermione headed for his door, thinking about which pile of clothing on her bedroom floor was the dirty pile and which was the clean. She'd just reached the threshold and curled her hand around the knob when Harry called her.

"Hrm?" She looked over her shoulders, brows lifted.

"You know, when I asked if you were pregnant, I was only kidding." A playful glint coloured his eyes, the sparkle of her long-time friend breaking through the tension that riddled her bones. "You didn't really need to go do it."

"Ha-ha."

She rolled her eyes as she yanked his door open, making sure to hide her smile until her back was to him. She couldn't very well admit his poorly time joke was slightly humorous lest she be subjected to more of them.

Morning coffee had somehow morphed into breakfast with Harry and Theo—not that she minded. She'd like Harry's boyfriend the moment she'd met him, which happened to be the same moment she'd walked in on them shagging on their couch nearly two years ago. No, it wasn't because he had a cute butt—which he did—but it was because he made Harry so bloody happy.

But right now?

Well, right now, she wasn't exactly thrilled with him.

"Caffeine?" His forest green eyes dropped to the steaming mug curled in her hands and his brow quirked. "Already off to a great start with motherhood then, Granger?"

"Theo!"

"Oh, piss off." She rolled her eyes, making sure to slurp her sip as loudly as possible.

Was he right? Sure. Even with her limited knowledge of pregnancy related things, she did know caffeine wasn't exactly ideal, but they could pry her mug from her cold, dead fingers as far as she was concerned today.

"What?" Theo lifted his shoulders, his fingers tapping idly against the vinyl booth's backing. "I'm just saying, if she's keeping the baby she should probably start—"

"If?" A strange new feeling surged through her—like lightning, it crackled and simmered just beneath the surface. "What exactly are you implying, Nott?"

Harry, ever the peacekeeper, reached across the table, and curled his fingers around her wrist. "He doesn't mean it like that. Right, Theo?"

Theo shrugged once more, avoiding her critical gaze. "I'm not saying anything." Pulling his arm down from the back of the booth, he picked up his mug and muttered a quick continuation before taking a sip. "Just that you have choices is all."

Before Hermione could so much as react, Harry beat her to the punch. "Excuse me?" He leaned away from Theo, angling his body wide as his brows rose above his thick framed glasses.

"What? It's the truth." Theo shifted, adjusting until his back pressed against the wall so he could face both of them. "There are resources available, should she need them. Adoption agencies… family planning clinics…"

He wants to hurt the Pup!

Red hot heat seared her skin, overtaking her sense of reason like the flip of a switch. She wanted to hurt him—no, kill him. Tear him limb from fucking limb! Who was this Beta telling her to give up her Pup or end it's life? Who did he fucking think she was?

Her fingers curled around the mug as a snarl worked up her throat. Curling her lips over her teeth, her body tensed in preparation to launch itself across the table and shred the threat to pieces, regardless of what he meant to her best friend.

"Theo, I love you but shut the bloody fuck up." Harry shook his head and the thick muscle in his jaw flexed. Pulling his hand back from Hermione, Harry grabbed his mug and slipped from the booth so he could slide in beside her. Now opposite his boyfriend, Harry draped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her close until their bodies were pressed together. "Ignore him, 'Mione."

Just as instantly as the rage set in, it slipped away.

This Beta understands. Good Beta. Pup is safe.

She turned her head into Harry's neck, nose brushing against the collar of his shirt as she inhaled his familiar scent. It wasn't as good as Sirius' or Remus', but there was something comforting about the way Harry smelt.

Grass, Spearmint, and just the hint of something sticky sweet—like a treacle tart.

It soothed her inner Omega, filling her with a familial familiarity that always calmed her. Pulse slowing, she loosened her grip on the mug and let the tension roll down her spine and slip away from her body.

Logically, she knew Theo was right. She did have options, Technically, she wasn't required to raise this baby, nor even give birth to it. Though, for some inexplicable reason, the idea had never crossed her mind.

She was pro-choice, totally okay and willing to support and encourage women to take control of their reproductive rights. But now that she was facing the same choice… Well, she simply couldn't think of doing either. Was she a hypocrite? Or was this, yet again, her biology dictating her life?

Resting her head on Harry's shoulder, she looked over at Theo, who was doing his best to ignore what she was sure he deemed overly intimate affection between the pair. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, I didn't mean to snap."

"It's fine." Theo glanced at her from the corner of his eye, hesitating just a moment before he turned his head towards her. "I wasn't trying to be insensitive… I just wanted to point out your options."

She reached across the table with her palm up and waited until his hand found hers before responding. "I know. I appreciate it."

"So, you're keeping it then?"

"I…" Her voice trailed off, brow knitting as the questions filtered through her mind. Of course she wanted to, it seemed like her only option, but was it the best one? She wasn't taking Sirius or Remus' feelings into consideration.

What if they didn't want children?

What if they agreed but resented her?

She'd hardly given them a chance to talk before running off after being discharged from the hospital, explaining she needed some space to think about what this all meant. It seemed selfish now, in retrospect, to have not even given them the opportunity to talk about what this life changing news meant.

Once again, those dark, guilty feelings began to invade her mind, turning her confusion into shame.

"I want to, yes."

"And your boyfriends?"

"I…" Her lips pressed together, gaze dropping to her and Theo's interlocked hands. "I don't know."

"It doesn't matter." Harry squeezed her shoulders. "Regardless of their decision, I already told 'Mione I'd be here to help her."

"Oh? I didn't think you liked children." The judgement in Theo's tone was obvious enough that Hermione didn't even need to look at him to see it. He was right. Harry had been rather vocal about not having children before. She knew this. She'd heard it countless times. That sisyphean guilt continued, adding what felt like a millstone of weight around her neck.

"I don't mind spawn as long as they're not my own." Harry clicked his tongue at his boyfriend. "I would make a fantastic gay Uncle. I'd basically do everything 'Mione would never let them and shower them with endless love and affection."

Despite herself, tears welled in Hermione's lower lids. She could see it, vividly: Harry sneaking her kid sweets, buying toys with wailing sirens, and undermining every rule she'd set. She could see him cooking them both dinner, and loving a curly-haired toddler with his whole heart.

But it wasn't those images that brought forth tears.

No. It was because she struggled to come up with those same images of raising a child with Sirius and Remus. Not because she didn't want to, but she feared this would be the end of her relationship with them.

Theo didn't utter a word as her tears fell. His judgemental stare fadied to sympathy as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, letting the simple action say everything that words could not.

Sirius:  Are you avoiding us?

The text came through at nearly three in the morning—an ungodly hour she'd normally avoided. But since she'd fled the hospital nearly three days prior, she couldn't seem to find comfort long enough to sleep for more than four hours a night.

Nothing felt right anymore.

Her sheets smelt funny and were too scratchy. Her shampoo dulled her hair. And the furnace did not adequately heat her flat.

Everything about the home she'd built with Harry was suddenly wrong. And worse, the discomfort seemed to gnaw at her until she felt raw around the edges, like a frayed swathe of flannel. She hated this feeling, like her home wasn't that any longer, like she didn't belong here.

Alpha misses you!

Her heart skipped a beat, breath catching in her lungs as she opened the text, but her thumbs only hovered over the screen.

Was she avoiding them? Yes. Of course. But did she want to tell him that? It would likely lead to questions she wasn't prepared to answer.

Hermione: No. Been busy.

Technically it wasn't a lie. She had been busy. Busy fretting over her future, constantly between tears and anger. Busy eating an obscene amount of carbs. Busy trying to figure out how she could financially support a child when she had to check her bank account before she so much as bought a cup of coffee.

His chat bubbles appeared, bouncing ominously on her screen. Once upon a time it brought her joy, hanging off his every word, but now it felt heavy and cumbersome.

Sirius: Busy doing what?

Chewing on her bottom lip, she rolled onto her stomach, elbows sinking into the mattress as a thick curtain of curls swept around her face.

Hermione: Some work, tidying up, etc…
Hermione: I've neglected a lot of my responsibilities here lately.
Sirius: Oh…

She knew he saw through the thinly veiled answer. It wasn't untrue, she had spent a lot of time at the brownstone, but he was also keenly aware that Harry took care of most everything in her absence—including feeding and looking after her cat.

Sirius: Why are you up so early?
Hermione: Couldn't sleep. You?
Sirius: Same.
Sirius: Our bed feels empty without you. I miss you.

Whether from biology or want—she could hardly distinguish between the two anymore—reading those words made her stomach twist into knots. Her inner Omega cried, begging her to go to her Alpha and Beta. Find comfort between their bodies. Press into her Alpha's warmth. Her Omega knew full well it was the only way to relieve the deep-seated ache that penetrated her bones.

Ever since her first heat, she'd always felt as if she were warring with herself, trying to define logic in the chaos that was the Demi-human biology that seemed to want to dictate her every move. She was more than just an Omega. She had dreams, desires, and feelings.

But right now? Right now she felt helpless to the spell.

The coding in her DNA pulsed to life, forcing her thumbs to move of their own accord and send a reply that was not untrue, despite being unwise in her current mental state.

Hermione: Come over?

They'd hardly spent time in her flat. Why would they when Sirius and Remus had a gigantic house of their own. Her bed was a tiny twin, barely big enough for her and Crookshanks. It was certainly not adequate to hold Remus and Sirius, too. And her sitting room was tiny, filled with second hand furniture. It was a hodgepodge of decor that definitely didn't match but somehow meshed together well enough to form an eclectic feel.

Their visits had been sparse, only popping in to greet Harry as she gathered her things for her overnight stays. She knew they didn't judge. She was young—much younger than either of them—and at a very different position in her life, financially and otherwise.

Sirius:  On my way.

"Fuck." She leaned forward to press her head against her pillow, groaning into the fluff as she tucked her phone into her chest.

This was a bad idea.

This was a really bad idea.

She was supposed to take time to think about what this all meant, and prepare herself for seeing them again.

What if he wanted to talk—about them? About the baby? Or worse: about ending things?

She knew she didn't have long. It took forty minutes to get to her house, but it was the middle of the night, the roads were empty, and Sirius' lead foot meant they typically got everywhere faster than normal.

Kicking off the covers, a startled Crookshanks bolted off her bed with a yeowl, making a beeline for the small cat tree just beside her closet.

"Sorry." Her apology would have normally been accompanied by a chin scratch, but she didn't have time to afford him that luxury right now.

Slipping from her room, she rushed to the bathroom, careful to step lightly as she crept past Harry's door. The absolute last thing she needed was to wake him or Theo up right now.

Once inside, she assessed herself in the mirror. There was hardly any time to prepare for Sirius like she normally would, but she wasn't hoping for miracles right now. No, she just needed to look a little less like the zombie state she'd fallen into over the past three days.

Turning on the faucet, she splashed the chilled water on her cheeks before giving her face a good scrub with a flannel and her exfoliating soap. She still looked ashen, but at least there was some color on her cheeks now. Next, she ran a wide tooth comb through her mane of curls and secured a hasty side braid, trying her best to tuck away the baby curls and flyaways that seemed to want to stand straight up.

Grabbing the stray tube of coloured lip balm from the top draw, she applied a thin layer, and was just about to dab on some of her face cream when she heard a soft rapt at her front door.

Thirty two minutes. That had to be a record.

Leaving her mobile on the counter, Hermione tiptoed down the hallway and checked the peep hole. It was unlikely anyone else was standing on the other side, but she wasn't above being overly cautious. Sure, Harry and she lived in a good neighborhood, but it was three in the morning.

She could make out just enough of his features in the darkness to feel confident it was him on the other side.

But she didn't really need confirmation.

She knew he was there.

She could scent him, even through the door: polished leather, campfire smoke, and tobacco, The combination made little sense, none of those things should work together, but they somehow melded into a scent that made her body ache with need.

Alpha, Alpha, Alpha!

Her fingers trembled as she unlatched the lock and slid the brass chain free.

Every noise was somehow amplified in the quiet of the night—even the simplest of motions could create a cacophony of sound. When she opened the front door, the rush of cold autumn air whooshed around her, though the chill was an afterthought because she felt like she was aflame.

Sirius stood in her doorway, shoulders taking up nearly the entire space, fingers on one hand curled around the frame while the other hung limply at his side. Circles had formed under his eyes, as dark and vivid as a bruise against his pale skin. He looked like he hadn't slept in ages, like her separation from her boyfriends was equally as painful for him as it was for her.

Grey eyes flicked across her, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he drank her in. The threadbare, oversized shirt and knickers she wore felt as hot as her winter parka. His gaze did little to help the growing heat that blossomed across her skin.

His fingers flexed at his side, as if he were trying to restrain himself from only God knows what, but in an instant, with one single word that slipped off her tongue, she managed to destroy what little self-control her boyfriend held.

"Alpha."

His eyes flashed, turning molten in an instant, and before she could so much as prepare, he was on her. Lips. Hands. Body. Her arms slipped around his neck, fingers sinking into the black locks loosely held together by a thin elastic band.

His hands forged unforgiving paths down her sides. There was no preamble to his desire. She could feel his want—no, his need—in every breath she took from his lungs. This attraction between them went beyond biology, it was impossible that her Omega hindbrain was the only driving force behind this cosmic connection between them.

His fingers dug into her backside, and in one fluid motion, he lifted her off the floor. Her legs wound around his waist, ankles locking at his lower back as she pulled the band from his hair and tossed it to the floor.

She didn't know how they made it to her room, nor if they'd managed to properly shut and lock the front door. None of that mattered now that her Alpha was here with her.

All previous dark thoughts seemed far off, so distant they didn't even reach the recesses of her mind. She pulled back from their kiss, a warning growl rumbling from her Alpha's chest as she wiggled from his grasp until her toes touched the floor.

She stumbled back two steps, putting just enough space between them for her to get a mouthful of air that wasn't tainted by his scent.

Show him how good you are. Show him!

"Omega."

Goosebumps erupted across her skin, trailing down her arms and legs as she shivered. Fingers curled around the hem of her shirt, and she pulled it off, struggling to work the neckline over her braid, but with a small, ungraceful tug, she managed.

Sirius worked his jaw, the thick muscle flexing as his eyes raked over her exposed breasts and abdomen, and when she slowly sank to her knees before him, his lips parted with a low noise that could only be described as a purr.

He rolled his shoulders, the leather jacket falling with an audible thunk to the floor behind them, and the plain cotton tee beneath found a similar fate. Even in the darkness of her room she could make out the inky black tattoos littering his skin. Like a walking canvas, the art pieces he bore were both beautiful and haunting.

She longed to know each story behind them, only coaxing a handful of meanings out of him over the past few months. The small crown on his arm was a tribute to his fallen brother. The jagged symbol over his heart was a rune of protection placed during his troubled youth. The hangman's noose around his ankle was a reminder of life's finitness. But there were so many more, so many storied paintings she couldn't wait to learn.

Her hands smoothed up his denim-clad thighs, nails scratching lightly through the thick fabric until she reached his beltline. She could feel the weight of his desire in his gaze as she worked to open his trousers and tugged his shorts down until his length sprang free.

He was already hard, the head of his cock red and wet. Her tongue darted across her lips as she curled her fingers around the base of him, barely reaching around his girth. She had never been a fan of oral sex before, finding little enjoyment in the act of giving, but the way her Alpha looked at her, the low noises of encouragement that rumbled from his chest, and the breathless whispers of filth that danced off his tongue… Well, it was hard for her to not want to do this every damn time.

"Good girl," His fingers slid across her curls, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned in to lick his tip. She stole the salty splash of come from his skin before she took him in her mouth. "God, you do this so well, Omega. So fucking good."

Her thighs clenched as she set a slow pace, tongue stroking along the underside of his cock with each descent, taking more and more of him in her mouth each time.

"You love this, don't you?" He cupped her jaw, holding her still as he gently rocked into her mouth, taking control of the speed. "I bet your cunt is dripping, isn't it?"

Alpha knows. Alpha will take care of you—and Pup.

Hermione only hummed in response, fingers curling into his thighs as he drove himself deeper, his cock brushing the back of her throat. She needed this. She needed to lose herself in his orbit, to not think dark thoughts, to not think about their pending future.

His fingers crept across her jaw, slipping into the thick braid, ruining any semblance of order as he used her hair as an anchor, pulling her head close until her nose nestled in the cropped, coarse hair at the base of his cock.

"That's it… Fuck, Hermione."

Her eyes watered as she felt his cock slide into her throat, depriving her brain of oxygen, but she didn't dare move. His whispers, filthy praise and promises of what a good Omega she was, and how she took him so well, fed not only her inner Omega, but that small part of her brain that thrived off of being his good girl.

She wanted to be good for him and Remus.

She wanted to please them, not just the primal part of her DNA.

She sputtered around his cock, lungs involuntarily seizing in some attempt to inhale and Sirius guided his hips back. A string of salvia connected the corner of her mouth to the head of his cock. She should have felt embarrassed by the lewd gesture, but it only seemed to further her depravity.

Slick had already saturated her knickers, soaking clear through the cotton, and it had begun to coat her thighs. A needy whimper worked up her throat as Sirius took a step back. His fingers curled around his cock and he stroked himself from root to tip where her mouth had been moments before.

"Bed." Dark eyes flashed at her, half-man, half-beast in this moment. She would have been afraid if she hadn't known that animalistic side of him so bloody well. "Now."

Hermione scrambled to her feet, limbs quaking as she hurried to her mattress. Twin knees sunk into the narrow mattress, and before she could spin around to face him, a hand curled around her hip while another pressed between her shoulder blades.

Show him! Show your Alpha. He'll be so pleased!

It was unspoken, ingrained in their DNA, something no Beta would truly understand. Sex was criucial, a means of procreation for their kind, but sex like this—an Omega bent over, her mating gland easily accessible to the Alpha, it meant more than words could ever express.

Trust. Devotion. And dare she even think it—love.

To allow him to take her like this, the most intimate parts of her exposed and his for the taking, signalled a new step in their relationship, one she'd been thinking about for some time, but had not yet dared to whisper.

His hand trailed down her spine, fingers ticking each vertebra, and his slow, rumbling purr filled the room, soothing the wild that brewed within her soul. His fingers hooked into the band of her knickers and tugged them down. The gusset stuck to her sex, but with a small tug, that too fell free to pool around her knees.

"Such a beautiful little pussy."

Her cunt clenched in response. Slick slipped down the inside of her knees, saturating her bedding beneath. She was so empty, so painfully hollow, She needed him! Needed to feel is—

"Oh God." The blasphemy was uttered as she inhaled, his fingers breaching her entrance in a slow motion. Her fingers dug into the bedding, and she lowered her torso until she could rest her cheek against the mattress, arching her hips up higher.

"Tell me, Omega." Two fingers curled inside her, crooking just to brush that spot inside her that made it nearly impossible to breathe before he pulled them out, starting a torturous pace. "Tell me what you need."

She couldn't think, let alone form coherent words. He knew what she needed, he could feel it—sense it. That was his bloody job, wasn't it? To provide—to take care of her and their pups?

"Tell me!"

"Please, Alpha. Please, please, please." Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and her body rocked back into his fingers which seemed to slow down as her begging began. "I need to come."

A dark laugh followed, low and gritty; it felt rough on the frayed edges of her reality. "I know you do, Little One. And I'll let you come… but you don't want to come on these fingers, do you?"

She shook her head, and the curls that had already slipped from her braid stuck to her sweat-stricken forehead.

"No, of course you don't." He scissored his fingers inside of her a few more times, beginning that slow stretch that made her gasp, before he eased them out. "You need something bigger, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what you need, Little Omega. Tell me and I'll let you have it."

Her body was trembling, unable to contain the adrenaline that rushed through her veins. She felt like a live wire, ready to explode at a moment's notice.

"Your cock. Please, Sirius. I need your cock."

"Good girl."

The thick head of his cock swept across her slit once, twice before he notched himself at her core. There was no build-up, no preamble. She was ready to accept him. Her body was made to fit his thick cock, like she was bespoke just for him.

One slow push and each inch stretched her insides, passing the point that she thought physically possible until he was fully seated within her. This moment, this first fit of him inside her body never failed to induce that euphoric Omega state.

The tension she'd been carrying faded away, the worries that had plagued her mind vanished, and all that seemed to matter was here and now and this moment between them.

Sirius leaned over her, his breath splashing across the gland that lay dormant beneath her skin, begging for him to bite down and claim her as his for the rest of eternity.

"So beautiful." He brushed his lips across her gland like a hummingbird's wings, just fluttering over the surface, barely letting their existence be known. "So full… so perfect."

He took her slowly. Each push and pull from his cock was methodic and calculated, like he'd planned this coupling from the moment he left the brownstone.

Normally, Sirius was rough, taking her as frantically and wildly as the rumors about Alphas claimed, but this time he was different. This was a softer side of him she rarely saw.

He guided them onto their sides, his hand curling around her knee, and pulling her leg over his. This new angle left her heady. Each time his cock bottomed out inside her, the pleasure-pain of his cock reached so deep it sent goosebumps erupting down her limbs.

"Sirius." His name was a prayer, barely audible through the soft breathy gasps and moans that he pulled out from her body with just a twist of his hips.

His hand moved, sliding over her hip before changing direction to rest directly over her womb. There was no misinterpreting what this meant, the possessive way he held her there, like the world began and ended with the life growing just beneath his palm.

"Such a good little Omega. You'll get so round… our Pup growing inside you—"

Her limbs quivered, body taut with need, just on the precipice.

"—You'll be such a good Mama… So good for our Pup—"

She was close, every movement driving her closer and closer still.

"—Give you my knot all the time. Fill up this perfect little—"

His words amplified her need until it was finally too much.

All at once, the world faded to black. His wicked whispers were lost under the current of her climax as it consumed her like a rolling tide. She clung to the mattress with one hand as the other held onto Sirius' arm, nails digging half moons into his skin, but she was incapable of stopping herself.

It was all she could do in that moment not to drown in the rapture that seemed to overshadow all logic.

Distantly, she could feel his cock pulse deep within her, chasing his own end just behind hers, but she didn't know how long it lasted, nor how long they stayed like that, seated together in the most intimate way possible. No knot held them, no biological reason for him to stay, but something kept him there. His body was tight against hers, hand curled protectively around her middle as they both drifted off in a post-orgasmic bliss that seemed to calm all the unanswered questions brewing between them.

Chapter Text

"Wake up, love."

Morning light filtered into her bedroom, warming the skin on her back. The past several nights she had been so cold; there wasn't enough heat in the world to ease the chill from the marrow in her bones.

But last night was different. Last night she was able to drift off to sleep, and most importantly, stay asleep. She didn't have to look at the clock to know she'd slept longer than the measley four hours she'd been clocking lately.

Her limbs felt heavy underneath her comforter, as if they were laden with lead, and that cold she hadn't been able to shake was entirely gone. A slow whinge tickled up her throat as she burrowed into the source of the warmth.

Even in the twilight state her mind was stuck in, her inner Omega knew the reason she'd finally been able to sleep: she had an Alpha with her.

No, not just an Alpha. Her Alpha.

His scent seemed headier in the morning, thick, like the fog that shrouded the Thames River on a brisk morning.

Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.

Nimble fingers stroked his supple skin, and soft lips brushing against his chest. The coarse hair that sparsely covered his chest tickled her nose as she took a deep breath, practically tasting his aroma.

Sirius' scent was all she could smell, masking the normal floral fabric softener that clung to her bedding, but just on the back end, just as the smoke faded into tobacco, she could sense something distinctly sweeter.

Honey.

Beta!

Her eyes snapped open, her synapses firing rapidly to make the simple connection.

"Remus?" Hermione shifted, peeking through the veil of her curls. "What are you doing here?"

The missing third to their relationship was perched on the side of her tiny bed, a soft smile curling his lips. She wasn't certain there would ever be a time the way he looked at her—like she wasn't the walking mess of a person she knew she was, like she did no wrong, like the sun rose and set on her—wouldn't make the pesky butterflies she abhorred burst from their cocoons in her stomach.

His smile only seemed to grow wider at her question, and he lifted his hand to brush the back of his fingers against her cheek, gently tucking her curls behind her ear. "Well, you see, I woke up to an empty bed and a missing husband."

"I left a note." Sirius' murmur was muffled by his arm, which was thrown over his head. Face tucked in the crook of his elbow, he made a weak attempt to block out the morning light.

"Yes, thank you for that, by the way." Remus shook his head, jade green eyes lifting towards the ceiling. "Though I would be remiss if I didn't point out that by the time I found said note, I was already mid-panic."

Guilt's long tendrils snuck in, winding around her consciousness, cutting through the comfortable fog of sleep. Her eyes instantly dropped to her bedding, fingers curling into her comforter as she bit her bottom lip.

Of course Remus would have panicked—he woke up to an empty house. Being the cause of said panic? Well, that felt just like another reason they would seek to end their budding relationship.

"Shite. I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"No, no. You did nothing wrong, love." There was a softness wrapped around his words that made her heart quiver. Remus was always kind, always forgiving. Absolutely the 'giver' in their dynamic. He took hold of her chin and gently tipped her face up until her eyes found his. "I'm not even bothered. I was just teasing."

Hermione pressed her lips together, tension coiling low in her stomach.

"It would be a lie to say I'm not a tad jealous…" His voice trailed off, eyes purposefully dropping down to look at her nude shoulders and chest. "But, I'm far from upset."

Trust. Honesty. That was what they built their relationship on. They'd established rules in the beginning, set boundaries and expectations. They'd formed a solid foundation the week following her first heat and a fundamental part of that was trust.

It wasn't easy, not due to any malfeasance on their part, and it took Hermione time to trust. But she was trying.

"Okay." Her voice was small, crushed under the weight of the guilt brewing inside. Eyes closed, she turned into Remus' palm, which still lay against her cheek. "I'm still sorry."

"Moony has had me for several decades now." Sirius shifted behind her, the mattress bouncing her about with the movement, and his arm snaked around her middle. His palm spread wide across her womb as he anchored her back into him. "He'll be fine."

The corners of Remus' eyes crinkled as his smile widened until every one of his perfectly aligned teeth showed. "Marital bliss." His fingertips brushed across her skin as he lowered his hand back to the mattress. "Anyway, how are you?"

Instinctively, her hand moved to mirror Sirius', fingers laying over his. How was she? That was a very interesting question… one she truthfully did not know how to answer.

"Confused?" Her brows lifted in time with her shoulders, gaze connecting with Remus' once again.

"I suspected as much." Ever the patient, understanding man she'd come to know, he nodded. Bending his leg and pulling it up onto the mattress, he set his hands on his knee. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I… uh…"

It was hard to focus. Not because she was starkers beneath a comforter with one of her boyfriends. Not because Remus looked stupidly handsome in his grey jumper and dark wash denims. And not because Sirius' lips were wandering across her shoulders.

No. It was hard to focus because she had tried so hard over the past couple days to avoid thinking about it that it was almost second nature at this point.

Avoid.

Deflect.

Hide.

"You must know we'll support you and the baby." Sirius' voice was low, the deep rumble of his words vibrating her skin. "Right?"

"We'll support her no matter what she chooses," Remus corrected.

Her choice.

Everyone kept bringing it up. Rationally, she knew why. It was her choice, but, truthfully, she wasn't sure it ever was.

This life growing inside her might not have been planned, but it certainly wasn't something she was prepared to give up.

"I don't want to—I'm not going to…" Her voice trailed off and she looked down to her abdomen still hidden beneath her bedding. Her skin tingled under the soft stroke of Sirius' thumb across her womb. "I want to keep it."

All at once, those five words seemed to settle a tension she hadn't even noticed filling the space between the three of them.

Behind her, Sirius' body relaxed into the bed a bit more, and Remus' shoulders seemed to sag with relief. Those five words put both of her boyfriends at ease in ways she could never imagine.

"Good... Good." Remus' hand went to his hair, fingers carding through the sandy blond locks back across his head. "That's… that's what we'd hoped—"

Though she could hear his voice, the rest of his words faded into noise as the reality of what Remus had just said sunk in.

That's what they'd hoped? They wanted a baby?

They were both in their forties, well past the standard child rearing age, yet they'd wanted...

"I'm sorry." Hermione lifted her hand from beneath the covers to pause Remus, brows knitting together. "Did you just say you wanted a baby?"

"No. Not a baby." Sirius pressed a kiss against the cap of her shoulder. "Our baby."

The way he said those two words, in something between a purr and a whisper, made her stomach clench and her heart quiver. It sounded like there was promise of a future impregnated in those words, like her fears over the past two days were not just unfound, but absolutely daft.

"We've not given it much consideration previously, for fairly obvious reasons, but the thought of having a family has crossed my mind on more than one occasion." Remus looked almost sheepish at his admission, eyes drifting over her to look at his husband.

"More than one occasion?" Sirius snorted. "I believe I caught you looking at little tiny jumpers on more than a few occasions."

She felt like a children's top, spinning through her thoughts at a breakneck speed, barely finishing one before moving onto the next. "But… but you're old?"

It was hardly a secret, their age difference was easily distinguishable, but they'd never actually discussed their May-December romance at length.

Remus seemed to take her lack of filter in stride, a deep belly laugh filling her room. Behind her, Sirius went as stiff as a board.

"Oi!" Sirius pinched the tender skin at her hip. "I'm not bloody old."

"You're certainly not young, Padfoot."

"Oh, bugger off. I'll show you both how bloody old I am." An Alpha growl followed, depravity dripping from his threat.

Hermione kicked at her comforter, untangling herself from Sirius' arms. This should have been good news—technically, it was good news. It meant her fears were unfounded. It meant she'd worked herself up over nothing. It meant they would still be together.

But it felt almost unreal. Like she was in some sort of romantic comedy of errors instead of real life. A young Sandra Bullock would play her, Remus would be cast by someone rugged and handsome, like Martin Henderson and Sirius… Well, that was a bit trickier—Keanu Reeves? Or perhaps Adam Driver?

"Love?"

Hermione grabbed her discarded shirt, hastily pulling it on to cover herself as she moved to pace the empty space in front of her closet and threaded her fingers through her curls.

"Are you alright?"

"Hermione?"

Their words spun around her, mixing with the plethora of unanswered questions that clogged her mind, all of which roared over the ambient noise of her inner Omega begging her to move across the room and drag Remus into her tiny excuse of a bed with her and Sirius.

Alpha is pleased. Beta is pleased!

"Remus, call 112, I think she's having another—"

"I'm fine!" Okay, maybe fine wasn't exactly true, but she wasn't going to pass out. At least… she hoped she wasn't. "I just… I mean... "

"You know, I've often left women at a loss for words, but it's usually under far better circumstances." Sirius leaned against her headboard with the comforter pooled around his waist, exposing the tapestry of tattoos littering his torso.

"Sirius." Remus clicked his tongue, brows meeting as he shot his husband a disapproving look.

Sirius' hand went to his hair, fingers pushing his fringe back across his head. "What?"

"Now isn't the time," Remus whispered, gesturing to Hermione who'd come to stand frozen just at the end of her bed.

"Oh… right."

Hermione took a deep breath, eyes flickering between her two boyfriends as she chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "It's… I just wasn't expecting this sort of reaction." She pressed her fingers together, tapping them to the steady beat of her heart as she tried to put her feelings into words. "I'd just assumed that neither of you wanted children, considering you didn't have any yet, so when I found out… I thought this might be… well, you know?"

"This might be what?" Sirius cocked his brow, slowly tilting his head to the side until he looked more canine than human.

Christ. He was really going to make her say it, wasn't he?

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose with a sharp sigh, tongue dragging across her lips. "I thought you'd leave me, okay?" Her hands slid across her brows and she peeked at her boyfriends through parted fingers.

Sirius looked almost dumbfounded by her admission, still in the same spot on her mattress. And Remus? Well, Remus' face seemed to contort between confusion, understanding, and disappointment, all before landing somewhere in the realm of what could only be described as pity.

"Oh, Hermione." Remus' hands folded slowly over his knee, flexing as if he was trying to contain the urge to reach out and wrap her in his arms.

"Look, I know. I know. It's not—"

"Did you really assume we'd leave you because you're pregnant?" There was a sharp edge to Sirius' tone that sliced right to the bone, verbally impaling her with an implication that did little to conceal his own hurt. "Christ, what kind of men do you think we are?"

"No, no no!" Fuck, this was not what she intended! "I—I didn't mean for it—fuck, shit, I don't think—" Anxiety, an ever present second skin, crawled back to the surface; she could feel it creep down her spine with each beat of her heart. "I'm sorry, I was just so… so scared and confused, and I don't want t—this baby to be the reason you stay with me. I don't want it to ruin your bloody marriage."

There it was, the crux of what was really bothering her.

The thought invaded her every sense like a sunburn, lingering on her skin as an ever-present reminder of too much time in the sun. Subconsciously, it was always there: the constant feeling of being an interloper in their marriage. It wasn't like Sirius and Remus were polyamorous before she'd joined them. Sure, they'd shared women before, but never like this—never a relationship.

And now? Well, now she was saddling them both with a lifelong commitment because one of them had super sperm that was bloody insistent on becoming human. Or maybe her birth control had been faulty. Regardless of the reason, it didn't matter because the outcome was the same.

She was pregnant.

"Whoa, whoa, wait." Remus rose from the bed, his brow low, concern pulling heavy lines across his forehead and creasing the corners of his eyes. "Hermione, just stop." His hands found her arms, and he guided her into his chest, winding around her in a firm hold.

Instinctively she struggled, pressing her hands against his chest as she fought back the urge to snarl at him like the beast that lay dormant inside her.

"Remus, stop. I don't—"

"I don't bloody care what you want, right now, Hermione." His fingers curled around the back of her skull, forcing her head against his chest until the steady thump of his heartbeat tattooed against her cheek. "Just stop and breathe for a second."

She could hear movement behind her, the sound of rustling sheets, then bare feet hitting her floor. "Remus, what are you doing?"

Instinct told her to fight from his hold, to run away and protect not just her heart, but the Pup that was growing inside her, too. Despite that primal mentality that wanted to dictate her every move, there was something about the rhythm of his heart that made her pause.

Her fingers curled into Remus' shirt, and no longer pushing away, she held him close as a fresh wave of tears spilled silently down her cheeks. She turned into his chest and nuzzled against the crisp button down.

"It's okay, love. I've got you." Remus' voice was right at her ear, his lips pressing kisses into her curls. He stroked the crown of her head, and his arm, still secured around her middle, supported her as her knees quaked. "We've got you."

She felt a second set of hands on her waist, sliding around her sides until they came to rest over her womb. Sirius' front molded to her back, his heat seeping through her thin shirt as he possessively cradled the nonexistent bump.

"We're not going anywhere, Hermione," Sirius whispered, pressing gentle kisses across her shoulders. "We're not going anywhere."

One minute she was crying in their arms, and the next, Hermione was back in her bed, sandwiched between her two boyfriends. She was putty in their hands as she calmed down from her overwhelming admission.

She didn't know how long it took to calm her down, nor how they'd finally been able to assure her that this child was far from the burden she'd assumed, and she was, under no circumstance, ruining their marriage. But as she lay between them—her head on Remus' chest and fingers sliding through Sirius' hair—she felt almost sure that this could actually work.

It wasn't that she didn't believe them. She wanted to, more than anything, but it was a lot to ask in her present state. At that moment, all she could do was put faith in their promise of commitment. And, of course, have a back-up plan just in case they changed their minds.

For now, though, she was pushing those black thoughts to the back of her mind and enjoying the calming embrace of her Alpha and Beta as they cuddled close.

"So, I guess we can't take you on a proper holiday." Remus' fingers toyed with the ends of her curls. "At least not until you've seen a doctor."

"What?" Hermione frowned, tipping her head up so her chin rested on his ribs. "Why would you take me on holiday?"

"First off, why wouldn't we?" Sirius rolled onto his stomach, pushing up on his elbows. "And secondly, your birthday is coming up."

Her birthday?

Fuck, of course it was. It was already September. Since seeing those ominous two lines on her pregnancy test, she'd kind of forgotten about any sort of birthday celebration under the mirad of confusing, emotions and dark thoughts.

It wasn't exactly a big deal; turning twenty-five was hardly a milestone. She could rent a car for a slightly cheaper rate, and potentially get a larger discount on her insurance if she owned a car—which she didn't. Who lived in London and actually owned a vehicle anyway? Well, aside from wealthy men like Sirius and Remus, of course.

She doubted there would be any hubbub at all. Harry would gift her his obligatory best friend birthday card, her parents would come take her out to a nice dinner and likely fill her refrigerator and pantry with some much needed staples, and her social media accounts would blow up with well wishes from old friends she no longer cared to keep in contact with.

"Oh… right." Hermione shook her head, eyes flickering between her two boyfriends. "It's not a big deal, though. Twenty-five is hardly a reason for a holiday."

Remus' soft laughter rumbled through his chest, tickling her skin as his arm curled around her in a gentle squeeze. "Any year is a reason to celebrate, but I respect how cavalier you are about it as I tend to feel the same. We just wanted to make your first birthday with us memorable."

"I might wager that finding out you're pregnant is a bit more memorable than a weekend trip," Sirius mused, resting his chin in his palms. "Speaking of which… I know this is all sudden—"

"You can say that again." Hermione eyes widened to emphasize her point.

"—but have you set up an appointment yet?"

In their relationship, Remus had taken on the traditional mother hen role: double-checking appointment times, making reservations, and balancing their schedules. It was like the man lived to be responsible for others.

And Sirius? Sirius was carefree, more likely to randomly turn up and whisk her away at a moment's notice.

The dichotomy between the pair was striking, but it somehow worked. She got the best of both worlds from both men, and somehow, she fit into the mix of their marriage.

Though his lackadaisical take on life was never a bad thing, she couldn't help but lift her eyebrows in surprise at his question about her care. She knew he cared, but Remus was the one who always checked in on those sorts of obligations.

"I called and left a message with my doctor for a referral but I haven't heard back yet." She didn't need to tell him she'd only placed the call yesterday morning, nor that she had avoided even attempting to find a specialist herself. It wasn't as if she hadn't intended on going at all. She'd just needed time to process.

Hopefully they could find a Demi-human specialist who had availability to treat her, because God only knew how difficult that ended up being after her presentation began. It had originally taken weeks to see the specialist, and she was lucky to even get an appointment every six months for proper refills on her suppressants.

"Oh. Okay..." Sirius' eyes wandered down her figure to settle on her stomach as if he could see the life growing inside.

She didn't need to be a mind reader to know there was something unspoken lingering in his mind, though based on the look he gave Remus, after he finally lifted his eyes from her midsection, she didn't want to push. Mainly because she wasn't certain she could handle any more stressors for the day.

"I figured if I didn't hear anything by Friday I'd give them a ring again and see what the hold up is." Hermione looked between the pair, trying to decipher the unspoken message that passed between them. "I'll let you both know what they say… if you'd like."

"We would." Remus dropped her curls so he could brush his knuckles across the high of her cheek. "If you don't mind."

"I wouldn't have offered if I did." Hermione turned into Remus' touch, pressing two quick kisses against his bent fingers.

She knew this wasn't going to be easy. Navigating motherhood and a new relationship at the same time was hard enough, nevermind the added complexity of being a Demi-human. But she couldn't help but let her guard down when she felt Sirius' body mold against hers once more, his palm cupping the softness of her middle in some Alpha embrace that soothed both her inner Omega and her apprehensive ego.

Chapter Text

The remainder of her week seemed to vanish in a flash. Hermione felt like she had only just cleared the air with Remus and Sirius when the work week drew to a close. While the days immediately following her unexpected news had felt like they might never end, the last three had flown by.

By the grace of God, she had actual work to do, and found herself pleasantly distracted through most of the day. Her nights had been spent with Harry, and sometimes Theo, enjoying what she could only assume were her dwindling days of self-perceived freedom.

It wasn't as if a baby would ruin her life, but she also knew everything would change the moment the life growing inside her came into the world.

Long gone were the reckless nights of drinking to excess and stumbling home with Harry.

Long gone were the late, lazy mornings, when they only roused after the afternoon sun kissed their skin.

Her world was going to change, she knew it, and though she wasn't dreading the idea, she wasn't exactly sure she was prepared—financially or mentally—to be responsible for someone else.

Which, as she checked her bank account before paying her cab fare, felt more critical than ever before.

"Thanks." The gratitude was uttered with a smile as she switched apps to pay the cabbie who was already looking for a new fare on his mobile. Grabbing her overnight bag, Hermione slipped out of the vehicle and made her way up the walkway to the front door of the familiar brownstone.

Even months later, this walk made her stomach flutter, knowing that her Alpha and Beta were inside, waiting for her to return. Normally, she didn't spend as much time away from them, usually popping by her flat for an overnight once or twice a week. But she had wanted some space as she worked through her thoughts on what this pregnancy meant for their relationship.

In retrospect, her disrupting what had become her normal routine and staying at her flat was rather daft. She was no more prepared today than she was a few days ago, but at least it had allowed her to spend some much-needed time with her best friend.

She'd just made it to the top step, canvas trainers gripping the aged stone, when the front door opened. Before her, Sirius stood like a child who'd stumbled upon Christmas morning. His eyes were ablaze, crooked grin lifting the corners of her mouth, and if energy were corporeal, she would have sworn she was about to see it dance.

"You're here." He was in a low slung pair of denim trousers that hugged his thighs perfectly, and a charcoal chambray oxford that bore more wrinkles than clean lines. The top five buttons were left open, hints of inky tattoos peeking out from his collar.

Alpha!

Her reaction to his presence was instantaneous, as if he were her drug of choice. Her pulse raced, stomach tightened, and she could feel a familiar throb between her legs that she knew would quickly lead to slick-soaked knickers.

"I'm here." Her hand tightened around the strap of her overnight bag, nails scratching lightly at the braided material. This return to his orbit after the short separation felt akin to their first meeting post-heat. Her mind spun with possibilities.

Was he happy to see her? Would Remus be the same? Did they both feel that same pull she felt towards them?

"Here, let me get that." Sirius stepped over the threshold and took her bag, casually sliding it over his shoulder before his hand trailed down the length of her arm for their fingers to intertwine. "Ride okay?"

"Yeah." She nodded, tongue moistening her lips. "Long, as always, but that's nothing new." His brow furrowed, and for the briefest of moments, Hermione could have sworn she saw a flash of unease dampen his gaze, but just as quickly as it had appeared, it seemed to vanish. "Where's Remus?"

"Up in his study, finishing up some grading, or journal… or was it thesis review?" He tugged her in the house, bare feet making soft pats against the wooden floor. "I don't really remember what he said, if I'm honest. The new issue of Back Street Heroes just came in and they have this amazing Moto Guzzi on the cover, and, well…"

Hermione pressed her lips together, suppressing her amusement as best as she could, but when Sirius lifted his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug—as if being distracted by a magazine was an acceptable excuse for ignoring his spouse—she couldn't stop the slip of laughter.

"What?" He arched a single brow at her, head tilting to the side as his footsteps slowed.

"You're just... "

"Sexy?"

"I'm not certain I've ever used that word, but sure. That wasn't what—"

"Charming, then?"

"Uh, I wouldn't go that far." She laughed, eyes crinkling as he clutched his shirt over his heart, stumbling as if verbally impaled. "You're just funny is all—cute."

"Cute? Great. Just what every bloke wants to hear." Sirius dropped her bag on the console table that sat behind their couch, wisps of dark hair slipping from his bun as he spun around to face her. "I'm going to get started on lunch. Mind popping up and pulling Remus out of his study?"

"Sure, what are we having?" Hermione toed out of her trainers and nudged them against the couch so they weren't in the middle of the walkway.

"I was thinking sandwiches, unless you had a better idea."

Hermione would never turn down a meal, especially if she didn't have to pay for it or prepare it, but the idea of a sandwich felt so underwhelming. She'd lived on quick, easy, and relatively cheap food in their absence, and was rather looking forward to something other than that.

She began to walk backwards towards the staircase, humming in thought. "I mean… if you don't mind making something different."

"If I did, I wouldn't have offered." Sirius leaned back on the table, hands curled around the edge.

"Maybe some of that udon we grabbed last week… or that amazing lentil soup you make—oh! Or pancakes. Pancakes with syrup sounds amazing. But whatever you make is fine, really."

"Except sandwiches."

"Yes, except sandwiches."

"Got it."

"Unless you were intending to make bacon sarnies. I wouldn't say no to a—"

"Christ woman, you're impossible." The corner of his eyes crinkled as his smile grew. "Just fetch Remus and we'll narrow down the cravings."

Her gut instinct was to correct him, tell him that it wasn't a craving thing. She was pregnant, sure, but certainly not far enough along for some fetus to dictate her preferences. But there was something about the way he teased her–this distinct fondness in his tone and lightness to his words that made it impossible to argue with him.

Flashing him a wide smile, Hermione turned and quickly made the climb to the second floor. Mismatched socked feet slid across the polished wood floor as she made her way down the hallway to Remus' study.

The walls held pictures of their life together, some from when they were young with best friends who had left the world too soon, and others over the years as they built their life together. She'd looked at them all since they'd begun dating, hoping to glean something from these snapshots of their lives before her, but it only seemed to make her feel like more of an interloper into their happiness.

Now, though, she couldn't help but ponder the possibility of what the future might hold in different frames on the same wall. Would their child be added to the collection? Would she sit with them for family photos on holidays, or in front of their Christmas tree?

Her mind buzzed, churning through the endless possibilities that the future held. It was like one of those novels she'd read as a kid. Choose your own adventure. She already took a risk by dating the two of them, but now it felt like she was skipping whole chapters and fastforwarding to the middle of her story.

And what would her end hold? It seemed like there were two possibilities. One distinctly darker than the other—rife with heartbreak—and one with framed memories lining the hallway. But, the truth was, where they were at in her novel, either seemed like a possibility.

"Knock, knock." The door to his study was narrowly ajar, just a sliver of light shining into the dimly-lit hallway. She didn't bother to wait for a response, knowing full well it wasn't needed. He'd made that point known in the beginning of their relationship—no matter how busy he was, he always made time for her in his schedule. It was a small fact, but it never went unnoticed or unappreciated.

Remus was at his desk, the soft glow of his laptop screen backlighting his frame as he swiveled to face her. He had dark circles under his eyes, purple and deep, from what she could only assume was a severe lack of sleep. Fall semester had just begun, which meant his nights were later than normal, and his work with graduate students was practically doubled.

Beta isn't taking care of himself! Help him. Make him better!

Even without that pesky inner Omega demanding she take care of both of her boyfriends, Hermione felt the need to fix whatever was plaguing him, or at least help him adjust to his demanding schedule.

Her steps slowed as she drank in his tired state, eyes softening. "Oh, Remus."

"That bad, huh?" His soft brush of laughter was some attempt to lessen the blow of his disheveled appearance, but it only managed to make her feel worse. As much as she wanted to assume the separation anxiety she'd felt was unique to Demi-humans, she couldn't help but blame herself for this.

If she hadn't stayed away, she could have demanded he go to bed at a decent hour.

She could have asked him to put his laptop away, and convinced him to take a break from his work.

She could have made sure he was taking care of himself.

"No. It's not… okay, maybe. Yes." Hermione made her way across the room, not bothering to shut his door. As soon as she was within arm's reach, Remus' hands found her hips, fingers curling around the sharp jut of her hip bones as he tugged her between his thighs. "You're still handsome though."

"Thank God. I was worried for a moment. Forget keeping my mind sharp, it's all about my good looks." He smiled up to her, his eyes softening as that fondness invaded the beautiful jade green that followed her into her dreams.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, fingertips brushing across the cable knit weft of his jumper, as her other hand cupped his cheek. "Well, it's a good thing, too. Sirius and I might have some reservations if you didn't stay fit." Leaning down, her lips pressed against his forehead, then each temple, then the corners of his eyes, working her way across his face before finally landing on his mouth.

"I missed you." He whispered his admission into their kiss, as if it was a secret for just the two of them to share. The butterflies that made home in her stomach emerged from their cocoons, fluttering their wings restlessly as she let the warmth of his words wash over her.

The emotional connection she shared with Sirius was overwhelming for its own reasons. Yes, they had feelings for one another, but there was an undeniable biological pull, too. As if they were magnetic, they simply belonged together. Like the universe dictated their relationship.

But with Remus? With Remus, it was entirely free will. Remus wanted her, not because she was an Omega, but because he liked her for her. It did funny things to her still, made her flush at just the thought, turned her brain to mush, and made her heart feel like it had grown two sizes.

She sighed softly into the kiss, allowing Remus to tug her closer and closer until she was forced to crawl into his lap just so their bodies could continue to meet. Her arms wound around his neck, fingers slipping through his shaggy, auburn hair as she practically melted into the moment.

Her inner Omega preened, encouraging her to give in and take as much pleasure from this moment as possible.

Remus broke away, trailing his lips down her neck. The soft brush of his stubble tickled as he sampled her skin. His hands wandered to her backside, palming her arse through the thin cotton as he pulled her closer until she was pressed against the growing bulge in his trousers.

Mate! Mate! Mate!

This wasn't for procreation—obviously that bit was already taken care of—but the need to feel close with him, to let him claim her until she was pliant in his arms, was more than she could deny.

Her hands ran down his chest, nails scratching lightly across the soft weft of his jumper until she felt the cold brush of his belt buckle. She threaded it free with a practised ease and made quick work of unbuttoning and lowering the zip on his trousers.

"Hermione." His hands pushed gently at her hips, sliding her body down his thighs as he broke their kiss. "W-Wait."

No! Make him mate you!

Primal whimpers slipped off her tongue as a near panic-stricken energy pulsed from within.

Was he going to deny her? Was he going to make her wait—for how long? Why? He said he'd missed her, and—

"Stand."

Her feet hit the floor first, shock ricocheting up her body from the impact like a live wire. Strong hands held her waist, gripping her with a tenderness that felt so contrary to the sudden loss of his affections, and he guided her back until she felt the edge of his desk at the backs of her thighs.

Instinctively, she reached back, palms already itching to touch him again when they braced against the messy tabletop behind her.

His gaze left a burning trail down her figure, eviscerating every last remaining thread of control over not only her runaway libido, but also her inner Omega.

"Remus, please."

Jade green eyes flashed back up to hers, and she knew, in that moment, that there was no way he was going to deny her need—not now, possibly not ever.

His fingers danced across her waist, hooking into the elastic of her leggings and knickers. He didn't utter a single word, which she was both thankful for and unnerved by. There was an intensity in his movement, sure and confident, as he tugged the stretchy fabric down her thighs.

The soft squeak of the wheels on his chair signalled his movement as he edged closer, hot breath whispering across her hips and upper thighs until he gently lifted one of her feet from the floor.

Remus slipped her leggings off her feet, one by one, but instead of returning her toes to touch the wooden planks that lay beneath then, he guided them to the arms of his chair.

Hermione watched with rapt attention as his hands smoothed up her legs, working until his fingertips could press into the soft flesh of her inner thighs. He pushed her legs wide.

She'd dreamt of this before. A wicked fantasy lived in the recess of her mind where she was set upon his desk with his face buried between her thighs as she distracted him from his very important work. But even those debaucherous little dreams couldn't hold a candle to the scene unfolding before her.

His lips pressed against the junction of her thigh and hip, tongue dipping to taste the sensitive skin. She rocked her hips forward, the arch of her foot sliding across the chair's wooden arm as she desperately tried to get his mouth precisely where she needed it.

"Remus." His name was a quivering exhale, her frustration growing with each tender brush of his lips across her skin. Just when she began to reach for his head so she could direct his mouth right where he needed to go, he finally relented.

The hot brush of his tongue parting her folds and sliding across her clit with a long fat stripe was enough to make her eyes flutter, but when he continued devouring her with the same intensity, it was all she could do to lower herself back on his desk and ride the obliterating waves of pleasure wreaking havoc on her body.

Her thighs pressed against his head, holding him close, as one hand found his hair, the other curling into her own as she arched off the desk. She could feel her slick trickling, surely ruining any paperwork that lay beneath, but Remus didn't seem to mind.

Her moans and pleas of his name only seemed to drive him on, tongue and teeth working in unison to drive her to the brink. Her body trembled, nails biting at his scalp as she felt herself tetter on the edge of oblivion.

But she needed more.

His mouth was clever, sinful, working her body in ways she never thought possible, but it would never satisfy the hunger for him that burned in her bones. She needed him inside her, spilling his seed, filling her until nothing remained between them.

She tugged at his hair, gently at first, trying to guide him up, but when he didn't catch the hint, she curled her fingers into his thick, auburn locks and pulled him with enough force to let him know the tugging was more than just the throws of ecstasy.

His cheeks were flush, eyes glassy with the tell-tale sign of desire that made her inner Omega purr and her insides quiver. In his trimmed facial hair, she could see her slick glisten, clinging to the finely clipped hairs, making that sick Demi-human side of her hindbrain roar with victory.

He was hers, her scent would cover him so no other Omega would dare even look at her Beta now.

"You okay?"

His words made her eyes jump back to his, and she nodded, fingertips gliding down his jaw until she could rest her hand at the side of his throat. "Yeah… I just—" Her voice caught as some foreign feeling swelled inside of her, threatening to take over.

In that moment, she wanted him more than anything in the world.

She wanted to mate with him and Sirius. She wanted to spend the rest of eternity in their arms. She wanted to raise the Pup inside of her and countless more with her men.

She wanted these moments to define their forever—stolen kisses, hurried lovemaking, and shared intimacy.

She couldn't voice it though, putting a name to the undefined feelings would make them real, it would make it hurt so much more when everything fell apart and that was a risk she wasn't willing to take. Not yet.

Instead of finishing her sentence, she did the next best thing.

She put those hidden feelings into action.

Leaning down, she sealed her lips to his with a frantic energy that she was sure he could sense despite his designation. Remus might not be able to pick up on her pheromones the way Sirius could, nor could he read those instinctual bodily cues, but she knew he knew. The connection they seemed to share went deeper than she thought possible with a Beta.

Her legs hooked around his waist, the heel of her foot digging into his backside until he was as close as he could be. She made quick work of pushing down his trousers and trunks. Thankfully, he took over from there.

The head of his cock nudged her entrance, probing just enough to stall her breath in her lungs, and when he pushed inside, her body stretching to fit his length, she almost came undone.

His hands braced against his desk, bracketing her waist as his forearms dug into the natural dip of her body. She could feel the tension that rippled beneath the surface of his composure.

He was holding back—trying to keep himself together. Ever rational, even in the thick fog of her heat when he could have let his guard down, he remained composed. He took care of her and Sirius. He was, in every sense of the word, the source of stability in their relationship.

He mapped their weekends out, planned meals by the week, and though a midday shag on his office desk wasn't exactly worked into his schedule, she had a small suspicion he'd built time into his agenda to allow flexibility.

Always restrained, she couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath. The small cracks she'd seen gave her glimmers of the man beneath, and she longed to know that part of him, too. She was still learning the part Sirius knew so well.

Her hands curled around his shoulders, bracing herself against him, and when she mewled his name, hips rolling to create friction, his eyes locked on hers once more. His lips curved, ever-so-slightly, and a soft, breathy laugh followed before he hunched over and sealed his lips to hers once more.

He moved at a tortuous pace, shallow thrusts doing little to douse the fire inside that demanded he claim her, but soon his thrusts built, attuned to her inner desires.

He swallowed each primitive whimper, gobbling up her gasps as if they were the very source of life he needed. She didn't dare break their kiss, almost afraid to lose the moment.

His desk groaned and creaked with each thrust, the incessant bang against the wall surely gave away what was happening, but neither cared.

Tension rolled beneath the surface, making every nerve ending snap to life, and suddenly, she was falling. Her orgasm, although impending, accelerated, flashing over her body like a rogue wave and pulling her beneath the rough tide.

Blunt nails bit into the flesh of his back, anchoring her to him, as she lost herself in the sea of bliss that pulled her further into its grasp as he continued to push and pull. His name was mouthed wordlessly, her ability to actually speak long forgotten.

His own end followed hers, cock thick and pulsing deep inside of her. Slick and come dribbled between her thighs and the sense of calm that followed, knowing he'd spilled his seed deep inside of her, was unnerving.

She was pregnant, there was literally no need for her inner Omega to purr and preen at the thought, but it seemed to relish the knowledge that this man—this Beta—who, by nature, wasn't designed to be hers, was as captivated by her as she was by him.

The sound of each heavy breath was loud in his stifling office. Her lungs ached, like she'd just jogged the block; each gulp of air burned from her throat and across her chest, but she didn't dare move.

For several moments, they stayed locked in that bliss, his cock softening inside of her, her body absorbing his weight, but when the grandfather clock from the first floor sounded, the heavy chime echoing into the office, it seemed to snap them both out of the post-orgasmic spell they'd slipped into.

Remus' lips brushed across her brow, an act she might have tried to sway him from due to the thin layer of sweat that coated her skin, but she knew it would do little good. Instead, as he pulled back, she quickly ran her thumb across his mouth, trying to whisk the saltiness away.

"Gross," she murmured, fighting back the urge to whimper as his cock slipped from her body.

She watched as he rose to his full height, pulling up his trousers and shorts. He glanced up through thick lashes, the corner of his mouth curled in a smirk that was normally reserved for his husband.

"I just had my mouth on your cunt, but sweat is gross?" He quirked a single eyebrow at her as he finished threading his belt through the loops, laughing when she could only lift her shoulders in a shrug. "You're odd."

"Yeah, but I'm fairly certain you like my oddness." Hermione shimmied into her leggings, grimacing as the wetness between her thighs. While there were plenty of reasons to dislike her designation, the slick was probably one of the highest on her list.

"I do." Remus hummed in acknowledgment, hand findings hers. He laced their fingers as he pulled her into his orbit so he could wrap her in his arms. "I rather enjoy your company. Odd or not."

Honey. Butter. Salt.

The scents immediately surrounded her, and it was all Hermione could do not to lean up and scent him right then and there. Lifting up on her toes, she pressed her nose against the crook of his neck as she looped her arms around his middle. Eyes fluttering closed, she took a deep breath in through her mouth and let his scent dance across her tongue.

He didn't say a word at her behaviour, likely used to similar acts from Sirius; for that, she was thankful. Not having to explain these urges was refreshing—unlike the time Harry caught her rubbing Sirius' forgotten shirt on her glands in the living room. Awkward.

Her inner Omega seemed sated, blissfully in the recesses of her mind, content to let her regain control of her faculties now that she'd gotten what she'd wanted.

"We should probably get downstairs." Hermione's lips brushed across his neck as she spoke. "Sirius is probably wondering what's taken so long."

"Doubtful." Remus' fingers traced figure-eights up and down her spine, his shoulders shaking with stifled laughter. "I know he knows. Hell, I'm fairly certain even the neighbours know precisely what kept us busy."

Chapter Text

"Light reading?" Sirius blanched as he eyed the books Remus was pulling from his latest Amazon delivery. "If this is light, what the bloody hell does heavy look like?"

"Ha-ha." Remus shot Hermione an incredulous look as he set the last book on top of the rather large stack. When he'd mentioned that he'd ordered some books on Demi-human pregnancy, she'd assumed he meant one or two, but based on the ten texts that sat on the table, it appeared he when a little click happy. "I just wanted to make sure we were all prepared."

Prepared. Even now, months away from her actually giving birth, that word sounded ominous. She tried to ignore the way it made her skin prickle, focusing instead on the half-eaten beef and lamb kabob in front of her. "Thanks… I imagine the OB might have some recommendations once I see her."

Remus glanced at his husband, lips pressing together as the two shared a look that was anything but casual or innocent.

Her hackles rose—that dark funk she'd been fighting through settled in like a thick fog. She set her fork down after taking a bite, fingers flexing as she hid them under the tabletop.

"What?"

Remus' eyes found hers, a forced smile curling his lips, but he didn't say a word; instead, he just looked at Sirius, who was decidedly avoiding her gaze as he pushed his saffron rice around his plate with sudden interest.

"That was something we actually wanted to discuss with you." Sirius spoke slowly, as if using some rehearsed script already pre-approved by his spouse, and struggling to hold back what he truly wanted to say.

"Uh-huh… What about it?"

Sirius glanced up through thick lashes. "You said it was going to take a couple weeks to get an appointment, right?"

"Yeah. The receptionist said four to six, depending on the current backlog."

"That just seems like a long time, and I—we—wanted to bring you to my clinic." Sirius set his fork down so he could reach for her, palm up in an invitation to lay her hand in his. "They have an opening this week, and from what Moony saw, the midwives have really good reviews."

Hermione looked between her boyfriends, brow furrowing as the sinking feeling returned. The affection she felt for them was undeniable, the way they seemed to mesh together felt kismet at times, but it was hard to ignore the glaring differences in their lifestyles during moments like these.

This clinic Sirius went to, the one he spoke so casually about, wasn't just another NHS Demi-human clinic. No, this 'clinic' was a private hospital with clients who didn't have to worry about things like mobile bills, or if they could afford the fancy cheddar from Tesco that week.

"Oh…" Her eyes dropped to her plate, staring blankly at the kabob that remained untouched. The hunger she felt only moments ago faded, and in its place, a knot began to form. "I… uh… that's really thoughtful but…" It felt so daft, having to verbalise what should have been blatantly obvious. She really had nothing to be embarrassed about, they knew her financial situation, but actually saying it—admitting she couldn't pay for that type of care—was much harder than allowing it to remain unspoken. "I can't afford that."

The silence that followed felt thick, which only seemed to make the knot in her stomach coil tighter until she could feel it at the base of her throat.

Shame flushed her cheeks as she fought back a tidal wave of emotion. She wasn't prepared for this. Motherhood was supposed to be some far off prospect, yet here she was, trying to prepare for the inevitable and she already felt judged.

"Hermione." Remus' voice was low, as if he were speaking to a small child or wild animal. She heard his chair shift before the brush of his fingers on her wrist pulled her eyes up from her dinner plate to find him leaning across the table. "We want to pay."

Perhaps it was pride, or just simple stubbornness, but she bristled. She wasn't opposed to them paying for things—they often picked up the bill during their dates and refused to allow her to contribute to groceries—but this felt different.

This wasn't some chivalrous gesture, this was for…

Her child. Her Pup.

"No." Pulling her hand from Remus' grasp, she instinctively spread it over her lower abdomen, tongue darting out to brush her lips. "No, that's not—"

"Don't be daft, Hermione." Sirius waved his hand nonchalantly. "Of course we're bloody paying."

"Padfoot!"

"What?" Sirius lifted his shoulders when Remus gave him a pointed glare. "It's daft. It's our bloody child, too—our shared responsibility."

Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, shaking hands stroking the grain of the table in front of him. "Yes, but she is allowed to choose her prenatal care, Sirius."

"And we don't get a say in it?" Sirius scoffed, lean arms crossing over his chest. "It's my job to make sure the baby and Hermione are safe. If that means paying for the best care, I'm going to bloody well do it."

Alpha cares! Safe, safe, safe.

"Excuse me?" Hermione cleared her throat, forcing the flailing inner-Omega to the back of her mind as she straightened her spine. Her hindbrain operated on a different wavelength—primal and needy. It soared at the prospect of Alpha assertiveness, but the other side of her brain, the one bound by logic and reason, absolutely did not appreciate his sentiment. "What exactly are you implying, Sirius?"

Sirius' eyes flashed as Alpha pride swelled beneath the surface; Hermione could scent the change immediately. She watched him war with himself across the table, trying to reign in impulses that were coded in his very DNA.

"I'm not implying anything." He spoke slowly, choosing every word with exact precision. "I just want to make sure the baby is safe."

"And I don't?"

"No."

"But?"

Sirius' eyes flickered over to Remus, jaw working as if he had a mouthful of tacks tucked beneath his tongue as he weighed the merits of broaching a very clearly touchy subject.

Remus shook his head, eyes wide, silently beckoning his husband to drop it, but they all knew that would never happen. Sirius was prone to impulsivity, and his designation certainly did him no favors in that regard.

"Well?" Hermione leaned back in her chair, and crossed her arms over her bust as she pursed her lips, brow arching in a challenge.

"It's our Pup, Hermione! Ours, as in all three of us." Sirius gestured between the three of them with quick, sharp movements. "And I want a bloody say in the type of care you two reserve! If I want to spend my money on the best treatment, I'm going to do it because—"

"Alright!" Remus stood up, the sharp scrape of his chair cutting off his husband and he collected the dinner plates with a forced smile. "That's enough."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Hermione wanted to tell Sirius she was more than capable of making her own choices regarding prenatal care. She wanted to fight back and tell him that he was overstepping. It might have been her stubborn pride, but she absolutely did not want a hand out from them.

But, despite her annoyance, she knew he was right.

She couldn't afford private care, and it wasn't like the specialists she could see were available.

Biting her bottom lip, she let her eyes drift down to her stomach, where her hand still rested, already prepared to defend the life growing inside her.

The rushing sound of water gave way to the clanging of dirty dishes as Remus began to clean. Stress cleaning, Sirius had whispered to her one night when Remus suddenly decided to dust their sitting room.

Guilt gnawed at the very centre of her chest, and she took a deep breath, preparing to swallow her pride and find a solution that would work for all of them when Sirius broke the silence first.

"You need to move in."

"What?" Hermione's head snapped up in time with the sound of a dish dropping into the sink.

It had only been a couple of months. Technically speaking, they hardly knew her, at least not in the 'move into our house' kind of sense! She didn't know them. She didn't know their blood type or their allergies. She didn't even know their preferred brand of toothpaste yet, and she definitely didn't think the stage they were at in their budding relationship warranted a shared space situation.

"I want you to move in." Sirius leaned forward, elbows resting on the table in front of him, fingers folded beneath his chin as he stared at her across the table like this were some sort of interrogation as opposed to a dinner gone awry.

"Padfoot, this is probably something we should discuss before—"

"Absolutely not." Hermione pushed up from her chair, fingers flexing at her sides as she backed away from the table to pace instead of giving in to the sudden urge to flee. "Harry and I have a lease and we haven't even been dating long enough to consider—"

"I'll pay out your lease. And I don't care how long we've been dating, Hermione. This is… this is right. Even Remus knows it! You belong here, with us." Sirius followed her lead and stood, chest swelling with what could only be described as Alpha arrogance. "It isn't like there is a lack of space here; we have plenty of room for you both."

She felt like she was in the middle of a storm; thoughts crashed around in her mind, flittering from one to the next, and all the while, her inner Omega grew louder.

Safe! Safe! Safe!

This was all happening so fast—too fast!

They'd only been together for a short while.

First, the pregnancy and now this?

Moving in with them was so… so real. She'd have to explain to people she was dating them both! She hardly got through telling Harry and Theo, and she was actively avoiding telling her parents—although, now it seemed that conversation needed to happen sooner rather than later.

Home! Home! Home!

"I… I…" She struggled to find the words, stomach churning a solid knot that took up every ounce of available room in her gut until no space remained.

Truth be told, she didn't know how she felt about it all. The will to be independent felt like a complete contrast to the Omega inside of her that wanted nothing more than to place her claim on both Remus and Sirius as her family.

But she knew, more than anything else, that she was more than just an Omega.

She had hopes and dreams and ambitions that were far greater than her designation, and perhaps that was the reason she was so bloody petrified.

Would those things be pushed aside now that she was destined to become a mother?

Would she lose sight of herself if she gave in to this pull she felt for them?

"Hermione." Sirius spoke with such conviction that it almost killed her to say no, but she knew she had to. The life growing inside her be damned, she couldn't risk it.

"No." She looked up, gulping down the anguish that screamed inside her, her body fighting her mind on giving in. "Sirius, this is just too soon."

"But—"

"But nothing." She looked to Remus, hoping he might be able to provide some sort of middle ground in this situation.

He was always their voice of reason, able to talk Sirius down from the ledge and see through the weeds. She expected to find him on her side, surely he knew this was much too fast, and her moving in would complicate things,

What she saw, however, wasn't the man she expected.

The sparkle in his eye had dampened, and although he wasn't outwardly dispodent, she knew he was sad by her declination.

She tapped her fingers against her thigh nervously, teeth temporarily sinking into her tongue to prevent her from overturning her edict. She looked down at her feet, attempting to steel her resolve once more.

She could do this.

This was smart.

This was logical.

This was what she wanted… wasn't it?

"I like you both—a lot, but this baby… it shouldn't be the reason we fast forward our relationship." She couldn't bring herself to look up as she spoke, terrified by what she might see in their expressions. "Obligation to be there for this child shouldn't dictate the course of our romance and… and it's already affecting it, but this is one thing we can control." Despite her best efforts, she could feel her voice warble, emotions threatening to spill over and ruin everything.

"I can't move in. It's too soon and… I just can't." Her feet felt heavy, like cement blocks had formed around them as she stood. Each step was labored as she began to back away from the table. She needed space—not days like before, but minutes—perhaps an hour to collect her thoughts. She needed to make sense of the way her life was unfolding—to reason with the primal beast inside that was thrashing and snarling at her for wanting some sort of agency over what was happening.

"I'm… uh. I'm going to take a bath." She looked up, only allowing herself to briefly glimpse the men before she turned on her heel and left the kitchen.

They didn't fight her, nor follow, which was both a relief and utterly heartbreaking as she made the climb to the first story.

Suds clung to her knees where they poked up above the water's steamy surface as she tried to read while laying in the tub, but after having to reread a page for the third time, she gave up and opted to lay against the porcelain with her eyes closed.

Even rooms away, she could feel Sirius' despondency. His energy waxed and waned within her like the moon, pulling her back to his side to fix the situation. The compelling nature of her biology felt shameful. She'd gone her entire life suppressing the impulses in what she'd assumed was the right choice, but now she felt unprepared to deal with this insistent need to be their Omega.

Pruney fingers hovered over the water's surface, tracing patterns into the ripples as she tried to clear her mind and calm her inner Omega that still felt like it was thrashing at a cage hidden directly beneath her heart.

The soft squeak from the bathroom door opening pulled her back to reality. Hermione cracked open a single eye, just barely a sliver, to watch as Remus slipped inside.

"Sorry to interrupt." He held a mug in his hands, steam rolling from the surface of what she hoped was coffee. He lifted the mug with an upturn of his lips that felt more hopeful than not. "I thought you might want something to drink."

"You're fine." Stretching her legs out, she pushed up to a sitting position; the soap clung to her chest and shoulders as the water sloshed around her. "Thanks."

"Mind if I sit?"

Hermione shook her head, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as he edged closer. Tension coiled low in her belly as he claimed the edge of the porcelain beside her, though for entirely different reasons than before.

She wasn't naive to the fact she'd upset them. Lord knew she was battling with her own inner Omega over what felt akin to earth-shattering disappointment, but she also stood by her choice.

She was pregnant, not an invalid. Despite her designation—and condition—she was still the same Hermione Jean Granger that she had been prior to meeting them.

She still had hopes and dreams. She still had so much life to live, and although she hoped they might be willing to share in the crazy journey she was evidently on, she also had no notion that they were required to.

She didn't want to suddenly progress her relationship because she was pregnant.

She wanted them to want her to move in, in spite of the child growing inside her.

Remus shifted on the edge of the tub, lowering the steaming mug to the floor just beside them before he folded his hands between his knees, as if trying to prevent himself from reaching out and touching her. "You okay?"

Good Beta. Beta is kind and gentle. Beta will make a good dad.

An involuntary laugh bubbled up her throat, birthing the disbelief that brewed inside her in a way that felt almost shameful.

Of course he'd ask that.

Of course he'd be fucking concerned about her well-being when she'd practically just ruined their relationship.

"Sorry, I just—" She closed her eyes, wet fingers pressing into the middle of her forehead as she leaned back so the base of her skull could rest against the curled lip of the bathtub. "Did you just ask if I was okay?"

"I did."

"I just told your husband that I won't move in."

"You did."

"And I'm pretty certain he isn't told 'no' very often."

A low chuckle proceeded his words. "No, he isn't, unfortunately. Though, I am open to the idea of us working on breaking that habit—if you're willing."

Her heart felt like it backfired, struggling to keep up with her pulse as his words sunk in. Her eyes flashed open, brow furrowed as she peered over to find him staring intently at his locked hands between his legs.

"You're not going to break up with me?"

"What?" Remus nearly slipped back into the water as he turned to face her. "What on earth are you talking about? Why would we break up with you?"

"Because I won't move in."

"That's not enough of a reason to end a relationship. Especially when it's only been a couple of months."

"But Sirius—"

"Sirius is a grown man and can be told 'no' on occasion, Hermione." Remus shook his head, eyes rolling to the ceiling before he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose and took a slow, deep breath. "Frankly, he has always done things backwards. He shagged me before we'd even kissed, so in his head, you moving in so quickly isn't unusual."

"Yeah, but—"

"But nothing. We're not going to leave you because you won't move in." Remus dropped his head, mouth working as if he was holding more back, words at the ready to dance across his tongue. "I'm not going to lie and say that I don't want you here, but I understand your hesitation."

Despite herself, she could feel wetness well in her lower lids, blurring the lines of her vision, threatening to give way to the deluge of tears that she'd kept at bay since their row. It was so early—too early to use the dreaded "L" word in their relationship, but she couldn't help but wonder if this overwhelming feeling that swirled directly in the center of her chest was just that.

He understood.

He respected her choice.

He still wanted her.

"From what I've read, the separation might grow more difficult as you progress, but I'm fairly certain between the three of us we can figure—"

She pushed herself up and sealed her lips to Remus', wet hands clinging to the front of his oxford as she poured every ounce of herself into this single action. Hermione didn't need to hear more, it was pointless anyways. All her fears, and worries felt so unfounded in retrospect, but hindsight was twenty-twenty. She wasn't going to question the relief from the darkness that had clouded her since she saw that first positive test.

Remus' hands curled around her arms, holding her to him as he returned the kiss with equal fervor.

"Thank you." Her lips glided across his, words whispered into their passion. "Thank you for understanding."

Chapter Text

After the blowout, It had taken one week, and approximately three unreturned calls from the clinic, before Hermione finally relented.

She was going to see the specialist at Sirius' clinic, but mainly because she was growing increasingly concerned the long she spent browsing the r/DemihumanPregnancy subreddit. It wasn't all bad, there were plenty of stories of relatively normal pregnancies, but muddled in the mix were also stories of Omega women carrying multiples, and the rare instances of pregnancy driven heat-like symptoms.

Statistically, Demi-human pregnancies did have a higher percentage of multiples (something to the tune of twenty-eight percent higher ), and she couldn't help but feel like her nonexistent bump was protruding farther each day.

So, when Sirius brought it up—for the second time, much to Remus' dismay—over Sunday night dinner, Hermione finally relented.

She promised to pay them back, though she had a nagging suspicion they'd never accept.

The waiting room was nice, as expected from the private clinic. New furniture without stains, greenery tucked into the corners to present an airy atmosphere. They even had distanced seating pods, so Alphas and Omegas didn't accidentally cross a line with someone else's mate.

The exam rooms were so clean they sparkled. Instead of that antiseptic clean smell that normally clung to medical offices, there was a calming lavender, cottony scent.

While she would never, ever admit it, Hermione was more than thankful she'd taken Sirius and Remus up on the offer. Even prior to meeting the midwife, her anxiety about coming seemed to vanish.

"Are you staying over tonight?" Remus was across the room, having claimed the stationary chair against the wall. He crossed one long leg over the other, his argyle socks peeking from the hem of his trousers, and bobbed his foot impatiently.

"No, my mum and dad are supposed to pop by for a visit and Harry and I are hoping to convince them to take us to dinner." Hermione sat on the exam table in a mint paper gown, socked feet swinging as her fingers drummed on the tabletop.

"Oh… okay." Remus shifted, uncrossing his leg and leaning forward to let his elbows rest on his thighs as he peered up at her through thick lashes. "Sounds fun."

"Yeah, it's been a bit since I've seen them. They usually avoid coming into London but Dad has a follow up with his Oncologist. I think they might try to guilt me about visiting more, which is not exactly something I'm looking forward to." Hermione was close with her parents—well, as close as one could be as a young adult living on her own. She got along quite well with them, always had. She was never an overly rebellious kid, and was fortunate to have a supportive and loving household growing up.

Though they would never say it, she also knew they wished she visited more.

Remus tapped his fingertips against one another, leg bouncing with unspent energy. "Are they aware of your condition?"

"Huh?" Hermione tilted her head to the side, a single brow arching. "That I'm an Omega? Of course. My mum—"

"No." Remus cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I'm trying to be delicate."

"He means do they know you're pregnant."

Oh.

Oh!

"Uhhh…." She felt her voice crackle, eyes widening as the realisation sunk it. It wasn't as if she was unaware that she would have to tell them at some point. Hiding a pregnancy wasn't exactly easy, but adding in the fact that it was a Demi-human pregnancy made it nearly impossible. "No…"

The weight of their twin stares was corporeal, pressing in on the very centre of her chest. She hadn't actually given it much thought. Everything had happened so quickly, and when she had talked to her parents, she hadn't wanted to concern them with things outside of their control.

They were dealing with a resurgence of her dad's cancer, and her mother was running the practice by herself at the moment; the absolute last thing she wanted was for them to worry about her.

In retrospect, it seemed daft, especially considering the heavy blanket of her boyfriends' stares. Apparently not sharing the news yet was the wrong answer.

"Do they know about us?" Sirius was the first to break the silence, his words spoken with a precision normally reserved for people who cut him off in traffic.

"Yes!" She rubbed her hands against her thighs, the threadbare gown barely holding up under the movement. "Yes—of course, yes. I've told them about you both."

"Everything about us?"

She wasn't certain the doubt that nipped the end of Remus' sentence was meant to be offensive, but she couldn't help the small twinge of shame that bloomed inside her belly.

"Not everything. I highly doubt my mum wants to hear the intimate details of our relationship, but I have disclosed I am dating two men, yes." Her tongue swept across her lips, nails biting at her skin as she continued to rake them across her thighs. "Look, it wasn't intentional. I do plan on telling them, but timing is kind of—"

"Knock Knock!" an overly feminine voice chimed as the door crept open, offering little to no warning for the intrusion. Walking into the room, a bubbly blonde practically bounced with each step, her crisp white coat the only thing that could be considered demure about her outfit. "Good afternoon! I'm Suzanna Danu, and from what I've read"—she tapped a technicolor fingernail on her tablet screen—"it looks as if we're about to become intimately acquainted."

If someone had bottled sunshine, and somehow turned it into a living, breathing person, it was Suzanna Danu. She exuded a positive energy that was so bright it was almost bothersome, if not for the kindness embedded in her brilliant blue eyes.

"The fathers! I'm so glad you've both decided to attend." Pink keds squelched as she moved across the pristine floor, the corners of her eyes crinkling. She thrust her hand as Remus, her smile practically stretching from ear to ear. "I find it quite positive for the whole family to be involved in the appointments."

"We're just happy you could accommodate us." Remus rose from the chair to shake her hand. His rigid posture made it easy to see the remnants of tension from moments early, and Hermione felt slightly guilty. "I'm Remus."

This was supposed to be a joyous occasion. Seeing their child for the first time was something people dreamed of. Had she accidentally ruined it by being so careless with their feelings?

Suzanna turns to Sirius with her hand extended. "Ahh. You must be the Alpha."

"That obvious?" Sirius chuckled, yet despite the midwife's clear intentions of relaxing the atmosphere, there was a shift in his pheromones. He was outwardly calm, but inside Hermione could sense the storm brewing. Sharp, like a shot of cheap whiskey.

His hand slipped across the exam table until their fingers brushed, and Hermione followed his lead, turning over her hand so he could rub his thumb across the gland at her wrist, knowing the subtle act of scenting her would sooth the Alpha inside him.

"Yes, but to be fair, I did receive a briefing from Dr. Andrews on your family dynamic so I had a bit of an advantage." The blonde laughed, lowing her hand when it became obvious that Sirius was not going to accept it. "Which means you must be Hermione."

"Last time I checked." The slip of laughter that followed felt shallow, even to her own ears. Thankfully, the midwife graciously laughed along. Extending her hand, she gave Suzanna a quick hand shake. "Nice to meet you."

"You as well." Wasting no time, the blonde claimed the wheeled stool and scooted to just in front of her. "Do you mind if we begin with some questions?"

"Not at all."

"Perfect. I like to do this part first—break the ice before I get a peek underneath the gown." She waved her hand towards Hermione nonchalantly before tapping her tablet back to life. "Just to confirm a couple things. You're twenty four?"

"Yeah."

"Non-smoker."

"Yup."

"No drug use?"

"Unless you count coffee."

"God no. How do you think I manage this job?" Suzanna peeked through her lashes, painted lips curling into a small grin. "Family history of birth defects or serious genetic medical ailments?"

"Uhh." Hermione looked down at her hands, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she racked her brain for possibilities. Her parents had never mentioned anything before, but it wasn't like she'd ever asked. "None that I'm aware of."

"No worries. We can follow up on that one later. What about multiple births?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Twins, lovely. Do you have a family history of them?"

"Oh, uh. No. I'm an only child."

"And your folks?"

"The same."

"Statistically speaking, your chances are already higher than most, but it's always good to ask." Suzanna tapped away, fingers moving like lightning across the illuminated screen. "Is this a heat driven conception?"

Her cheeks flamed. This shouldn't be embarrassing, she was a bloody midwife and Hermione was already pregnant. It was obvious that sex had occured, but Hermione still felt like a teenager caught by the school nurse. Shifting on the table, she cleared her throat. "Yes—err… I mean I think so?"

"Is it safe to assume that Mr. Black is the biological father of your child?"

Christ. She just had to come out with the personal questions, didn't she?

Hermione's tongue suddenly felt thick, far too large to move and form words as she shifted on the table once more, fingers curling into the mint gown.

Did she really need to know that? That wasn't important, right? She could look at the baby and do prenatal care without knowing that, couldn't she?

"No," Sirius and Remus spoke in unison, breaking the silence when it stretched for too long.

"It would not be safe to assume that," Sirius continued, laying a hand on Hermione's shoulder. He brushed his fingers across the gland at the back of her neck, likely sensing her distress.

Suzanna, for her part, didn't seem phased by the response, not even so much as lifting her eyes as she typed on her screen. The only real indication that she'd processed the answer was the quick nod of her head.

"Right, well we shall have some things to discuss down the line, but I think this is all I need for now. Who wants to see your baby?"

Pup!

Her inner Omega jolted, like she'd stuck her finger in a light socket, and Hermione nearly jumped off the table with anticipation when Suzanna set the tablet down.

"Wait, we get to see? Like today?"

Despite her Google searches and Reddit deep dives, Hermione wasn't exactly certain what to expect at this first appointment. Some people said it was a simple meet and greet followed by an order of labs, while others had more extensive examinations.

It seemed, to her untrained eye, that prenatal care varied vastly between regions—hell, sometimes even providers. Getting a straight answer on what to expect was not as simple as she had assumed.

"Yes, Ms. Granger. Like today." Suzanna wheeled across the room with a tinkle of laughter and retrieved a set of gloves from the cupboard. "I will warn you, though, the ultrasound machine is a little… invasive."

"What do you mean invasive?" Sirius had kept his cool thus far, his Alpha tendencies hidden behind a wall of stoic silence. It was such a contrast to his normally cheeky demeanor. Now, though, Hermione could sense cracks in his facade, the primal urge to protect his family—his Pup—winning. "It's just a bloody ultrasound, isn't it?"

"Sirius." Remus rose from his chair and edged over to his husband. "It's fine."

"Well, clearly not if it's invasive."

Suzanna didn't seem phased by the charge that sizzled through the atmosphere of the room like an electric current. In fact, Hermione couldn't help but notice the way she was trying to suppress a smile, as if she found Sirius' possessiveness amusing, or charming.

She held the gloves in one hand as she wheeled across the room to the ultrasound machine, not slowing her routine as she sidestepped around Sirius.

"Well, you see. Mr Black, Ms Granger is not far enough along in her pregnancy to detect the baby with a traditional ultrasound wand that would be pressed against the abdomen." She gestured to the device, fingers hovering just above the faceplate. "So, we use a wand that will be inserted in her vaginal canal to get a clearer look at the amniotic sac."

Hermione was certain her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates when the midwife picked up the wand. Sure, she was an Omega, and by nature designed to handle large… equipment. But that? That wand looked like it might puncture her lower intestine if Suzanna wasn't careful.

"Uh… how far does that go in, exactly?" Her voice pitched like a pubescent teen, and had she not been seconds away from facing Moby Wand, the great white impaler, she probably would have laughed.

"Not all the way, love. Don't worry." Suzanna's eyes crinkled at the corners with amusement as she turned on the machine. "If you wouldn't mind laying back, we can get started and you can see your baby."

Sirius hovered, still secured to her side. His posture was rigid, likely sensing her own hesitation, but when she placed a gentle hand on his arm, he seemed to relax.

"You okay?" He didn't mask his question under a whisper, unafraid to stand up for her should he need to.

Remus lingered just beyond his husband, trying to give his Omega and Alpha some distance to work through the emotions that were clearly biologically driven. When Hermione glanced over, she saw his own concern written on his face. Concerns that seemed very real in comparison to what Hermione had been assuming was Alpha arrogance.

Fuck.

She needed to pull it together and force the unease aside. She needed to be an adult about this. After all, countless women before her had surely done the same thing and walked away without being maimed. Right?

Biting back the impulse to crack ill-advised jokes, Hermione reclined on the table, idly swinging her feet off the edge until the metallic scrape of the stirrups centered her on the moment.

Suzanna guided her feet into position. Suddenly, everything felt so real. If the multiple tests she had taken weren't enough proof, the cold press of plastic against her legs and the distinct beep of the ultrasound machine coming to life solidified everything.

Hermione shut her eyes, fingernails biting through the brittle paper that covered the exam table. She held her breath in some weak attempt to slow down her heartbeat, which only increased with each passing second.

"Alright, go ahead and let your legs fall open." Suzanna's voice was still as peppy as it had been when she'd walked into the room, but now it was so much louder. It felt like she was shouting the directions at her across a football field. At the gentle press of nitrile gloved fingers against her thigh, Hermione followed the midwife's direction. "Perfect. You're going to feel something cold, and then I'm going to insert the wand."

Her breath caught in her throat, heartbeat pounding so rapidly she was certain the people in the room next door could hear it. Managing a squeak of, "Okay," Hermione braced herself.

When the midwife pressed the wand against her core, Hermione's eyes snapped open and she damn near shot off the table with a starled lurch. Cold? It was bloody freezing! Sucking in a sharp breath, Hermione gripped the table for dear life. Suzanna evidently took it as her queue and proceeded to insert the remainder of the ultrasound wand.

"There we go, nice deep breaths, Miss Granger. You're doing great." Blonde curls bounced as Suzanna looked to the grainy ultrasound machine, twisting the device inside her with what Hermione could only hope was professional precision and not a hunt and guess method.

"Thanks?" Hermione shot a look at Remus when he stifled a laugh behind a cough. She stretched her hand towards his, allowing their fingers to lace together as she tried to ignore the uncomfortable fullness from the ultrasound wand inside her.

Sirius' thumb slipped across the cap of her shoulder, a reassuring squeeze ushering a wave of calm over her inner Omega who had been pacing like a wild animal locked in a cage.

"Ah! Here we are. Looks like just a single embryo this time, perfect for a first pregnancy." The movement between her thighs paused, and Hermione looked up to watch the fuzzy screen as Suzanna leaned over and tapped a gloved finger on the screen. "See that little flicker? That is your baby's heartbeat."

There, in the middle of a grey mess, lay a tiny blob surrounded by a black sac. Had Suzanna not pointed it out, Hermione truthfully wouldn't have know what the hell she was looking at.

It didn't look much like a baby. No, more like a bean. Or a chicken nugget if she was being honest. For some inexplicable reason, an all-consuming warmth began to radiate from the centre of her chest and envelope every scrap of insecurity and uncertainty she possessed.

Pup! Pup! Protect Pup!

Hermione knew Suzanna was talking. The distant murmur of the midwife's cheerful voice surrounded her and an excited hand moved across the computer screen as she took measurements.

But Hermione couldn't understand a single word. She didn't care to even try to listen.

Before her, fluttering its little heartbeat, was the only thing that made sense in the entire world.

Her Pup… her Pup with the two men in this room.

They were far from traditional, and this wasn't exactly something any of them had prepared or planned for. This surprise life, blooming inside her like a spring flower, was nothing short of incredible. Hermione wanted to remember this feeling forever.

She didn't always feel like she had a place in Sirius and Remus' marriage, and she wasn't certain what the future held for the three of them, but she did know one thing.

She loved this little nugget more than anything else in the world.

And she would do anything she needed to in order to make sure it was safe and protected.

Even if that meant eating crow and allowing her boyfriends to pay for this concierge prenatal care.