[A/N: This story is DH compatible, but not the Nineteen Years Later part. :)]

CHAPTER 1: Two Rows and One "Good" News

"Ugh!" Hermione Weasley, once Hermione Granger, screamed at Ron, her husband, as soon as she opened the bathroom door. They had been married for a couple of years now, but she still hadn't gotten herself used to her husband's sickening ways.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Ronald?!" she yelled for probably the millionth time since their wedding day. "Clean the goddamn bathroom floor after you finish using the bathroom!"

"Why are you so upset over this?!" Ron yelled back, going red in the face. It matched his mane of red hair perfectly. "If you want me to clean it, then I will! Right now! Merlin, Hermione, you are so fussy! I can't believe we got married!"

"Do it then!" she answered, pointing towards the communal bathroom. "It's disgusting! You're disgusting! I don't want to use the bathroom with your hairballs all over the place!"

Ron marched towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut with a loud bang that echoed all around their rented one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment unit. Hermione sighed, picked up her purse, and, forgetting all about taking a bath, left their unit, slamming the main door as well behind her.

The couple lived in the dingy part of Godric's Hollow, one of the now-peaceful places in the entire wizarding world in the country. Hermione used to love the place – after all, it wasn't everywhere that you could use magic without attracting attention from bystanders – but right now, she felt otherwise. The snow that fell serenely from the evening sky was horrid, the biting cold was revolting, and the small children throwing snowballs at each other were abominable.

Harry and Ginny Potter lived in the main part of the same village. They have a nice house, thought Hermione bitterly, and I don't suppose Harry is as much of a slop as my husband is. She even had half a mind to go and visit their place, but seeing as how it was Christmas Eve tonight, she knew they couldn't be bothered with her. And I don't think they'd want to hear about my complaints about Ron tonight.

What a nice way to start the holidays, thought Hermione sarcastically. I can't wait for the New Year. Maybe by then my husband's resolutions would be to be less sloppy and be a lot more familiar with the word "hygiene."

She pulled the collar of her trench coat up to hide her neck from the bitter climate and trudged to who-knows-where, kicking up flurries of snow from her winter boots as she went.

"Draco! Come here!" Astoria's voice rang loudly through the closed door of his office from somewhere outside.

Ugh, what now? thought Draco, clearly irritated. He now worked as a respected Auror for the Ministry of Magic, and he was in the middle of sending an owl to the Minister. Although appearances of dark wizards had been greatly diminished since Lord Voldemort's downfall almost a decade ago, the Ministry was nevertheless careful about maintaining the peace and order of the entire wizarding population.

Draco signed the mail with hardly a flourish as Astoria called on him again, her voice louder and more agitated, and gave the mail to his eagle owl, Greg, whom he'd had since his younger days at Hogwarts. Greg clamped the mail tightly in his beak and customarily pecked Draco on the back of his hand before leaving the wide-open, snow-filled windows.

He got up, stretched, and faced the wrath that was his wife as soon as he left his office.

"Where have you been?!" Astoria demanded angrily, her hands on her hips. The lime green cream that was spread thickly over her entire face would've made Draco laugh, if it weren't for the fact that she was fixing him with her icy blue glare. "I've been calling you for a good ten minutes now."

"I was – well, I'm here now," Draco replied curtly. "What do you want?"

Astoria's eyes narrowed threateningly. "Wella found something as she was doing the laundry. In your robe pocket."

"What?" What could that goddamn house-elf have found that would result in this kind of reaction from her?

"This." Astoria held up a pair of women's undergarments. "They're not mine," she hissed.

Draco tried to look indifferently at the thong, but his insides were churning. Damn it! he thought wildly. That Parvati girl! I told her I didn't want them as souvenir!

"I don't know where those came from," he said, his perfected poker face on.

"Oh, really now?" said Astoria sarcastically. "Then how do you explain this note?"

There's a note?! thought Draco, stunned beyond means.

"Drakie," Astoria announced dramatically as she read the pink-colored card. "I enjoyed last night. Thank you so much. XOXO, Parvati."

Draco cringed, waiting for hell that was surely coming to him.

"What the fuck is this, Draco?!" Astoria screamed, spraying saliva on his face. "You're sleeping around with other women again?! I thought we were over that! I'm your wife!"

Draco wished at that moment for the entire ground to swallow him up, not because he had been caught cheating, but because of the embarrassment he felt as he was being bullied by his wife, for he knew that the entire household could hear him as his wife's voice reverberated all around the mansion – the butlers, maids, the elves, everyone. He was Draco Lucius Malfoy, for Pete's sake! He was supposed to be the one doing the bullying!

Suddenly, Astoria seemed too much to handle.

"If you never get satisfied with my skills in bed, at least respect me enough as a person to –"

"Shut the hell up, Astoria." Draco hadn't screamed, but it would've been better if he had. His voice was low and dangerous, and his hand itched around the wand that was hidden in his pocket. He wanted to hex something, to hex her, just to silence her. But he knew that hexing someone for no reason at all could jeopardize the job he'd worked so long and hard for.

"Are you threatening me?" Astoria retorted, matching his glare with her signature one. "Draco!"

Draco had pushed past her and was making his way down the long marble steps that led to the entrance hall of his inherited manor.

"Where the hell are you going?" Astoria demanded, following him. "Answer me!"

"Away from you," he answered her, his insides fuming. "And what the fuck are you doing, standing around?!" he shouted to the busybodies – butlers and maids – peering around doorframes, looking at the two of them in interest. They jumped and scuttled around as they heard him shout, "Get back to work!"

"Come back here!" Astoria screamed again as he reached the large oak front doors and prepared to open them. "Draco – I'm pregnant, Draco."

Normally, that news would've been enough to make him stumble in his step and kiss his wife in elation – after all, ever since they married in the past three years had they not been able to conceive a child of their own – but right now, however, he was still too full of rage to consider that "good" news.

He didn't pause as he went out the open door into the freezing night.

"I don't care," he mumbled, genuinely not bothered whether his wife heard him or not.