She spent several minutes casting spells and testing it before she stepped back. “Can you touch your thumb and index finger together?”
Draco stared at the hand for several seconds. His eyes narrowed when the hand stayed still. After a minute the thumb twitched.
He looked annoyed. “I can tell I'm connected to it, but I can't tell how to make it do anything.”
“It's fine. It takes getting used to. You'll just have to practice. Close your eyes, and see if you can tell which finger I'm touching.”
They had so much time.
They explored the island. Draco showed her the trails and old, mossy paths that wound through the forests. They went down to the rocky beach, and Hermione stood at the edge of the water and stared at the vast ocean stretching out as far as she could see.
It felt like they were the only people on earth. Hidden a world away from the war.
Hermione went foraging. Draco had bought books about the edible and magical vegetation in the area at some point. The island was somewhere off the coast of Japan. Draco, and sometimes Ginny and James, went with her while she wandered through the forests and fields gathering ingredients to create her own supply cabinet.
They slept. They went to bed early and slept late and sometimes didn't get out of bed until well past noon.
They would sit in the garden and Hermione would never know what to say. There was so much time she never felt sure when it was the right time to say any of it.
Sometimes she just wanted to exist pretending her life had only started a few days after they arrived on the island. She didn't want to reckon with the past. She was so tired of living her life on an eternal countdown.
There was so much time Hermione didn't know what to do with it all.
Eventually it began to feel unnatural and anxiety-inducing. A cold sensation of dread would unfurl in the pit of Hermione's stomach when she tried to relax for too long. It was the worst when Draco was away, which he was twice a day when he left to check the wards on the island.
She would visit Ginny and James for half an hour by herself, but when visits extended closer to an hour, she would begin growing tense with discomfort.
Empty hours felt like all the futile, poisonous days in Malfoy Manor.
She couldn't turn her mind off. James was so much like Harry, but when he wasn't, he was a baby, and Hermione's hands would nervously run over her stomach as she watched him interact with Ginny.
James talked constantly. He treated Ginny's mood like a touchstone that he mirrored back at her. Ginny mothered instinctively. She had an immediate sense of what James needed and seemed fluent in understanding the garbled words that rapidly, and sometimes tearfully, poured from his mouth.
Hermione was sitting on the veranda of the house watching while James was gliding around on a tiny broomstick that hovered a foot off the ground.
Ginny looked over at Hermione and noticed the strained look on her face. “Topsy, could you take James to the beach?”
Ginny sat down next to Hermione and, after a moment's hesitation, reached out and lightly touched Hermione's hand where Hermione had unconsciously wrapped her arms around her stomach.
Ginny didn't say anything, didn't ask any questions.
Hermione had noticed that Ginny very rarely asked questions when Draco wasn't present.
“I don't know how to be a mother, Ginny.” Hermione said after several seconds.
The corner of Ginny's mouth turned up, and she gave a small laugh. “You've mothered practically every person you ever been friends with. Harry and Ron would have died in their first year if it hadn't been for you.”
Hermione swallowed. “That's not the same. I don't even know how to interact with James. I can read him a book, but I don't know how to tell why he's upset or understand what he's saying. I can't tell that he's tired. I don't know how to read children. What if I can't figure it out?“
“Well, they don't start as two year olds. You get to know them. At the beginning they just want to sleep, eat, and be cuddled. If it's none of those things, it's probably a nappy change. You get to two years old one day at a time. Don't worry, I'm going to be here. And Topsy knows everything about babies. She could probably single-handedly raise an orphanage.”
She leaned back on her hands. “When James was first born, I didn't want to let him out of my arms, but I didn't know anything about babies except what I'd read. I never knew any babies growing up either, you know. Nursing sounded easy when I read the chapter in the book, but when I tried, James was squirming and screaming. I couldn't figure out how to make him latch on and stay on, and I was so scared I'd break him if I held too tight. I started crying, and James kept screaming louder. Topsy had been there for a month, but I didn't trust any of Malfoy's elves. I was on the verge of hysterical before she managed to convince me to let her help get James nursing. You're not going to be alone.”