A/N: Kix, you ask, why aren't you updating your ongoing stories… the three which have fallen by the wayside? I wish I had a good answer, the main reason is 'I'm stuck' and rather than deal with the problem I've thrown myself into a world of extensive 'One-Shots', so many unfinished one-shots. That seems to be my problem, when do you end it? How should things end? I like the infinite possibilities that come from an open end, but that's me and my warped brain. Anyway, I really wanted to experiment with writing in the first person. This is the result. I'm pleased with it.
"Granger" I run up behind her, she's stomping angrily through the hallowed halls of the ministry with a scowl that could floor a hippogriff. Her hair has started to frizz a little from her tugging at it, it bounces with the force of her angry steps.
"Fuck off." She sneers, not looking at me.
"I take it you got the letter." I try to engage her in conversation about our 'issue', but she's not keen on stopping, I try to grab her, but she shakes free with the strength of an ox. Of course, the little mudblood has to be stronger than me.
"Fuck. Off." She spits the words succinctly and clearly, as though I failed to comprehend them the first time she barked them at me. She can't even bring herself to look at me.
"We should talk about this Granger." I don't allow anything that could be misconstrued as 'begging' to enter my tone, I am merely stating a fact.
"I think you should Fuck off" she finally stops and turns to look at me "so I can go talk to the minister about his FUCKING barbaric new law…" she has tears welling in her eyes and I feel almost sorry for her, she's furious. Really, I'm the one who should be mad, but she's 'burn the whole world down' angry, my stomach flips, and I curse my strange psychosexual reaction to an enraged woman.
"Fine." I know her quest is futile, I spoke to him this morning, he gave me two options, Marry the mudblood or break my wand and live as a muggle. She is the lesser of two evils.
"Granger." I nod as I enter the leaky cauldron, she's flanked by her entire team, the Potty and Weasel, the girl Weasel, the toad boy and the not dead twin. They all glare at me. Her blazer has been discarded, and she sits in her white cotton shirt, her sleeves rolled up to reveal the branding she received in my home.
"your mother requested me." She shouts before I can reach their booth "Your mother, on the day the law was announced walked into the ministry and "REQUESTED ME" … like I'm the good table at a restaurant!" I thought I'd seen 'angry Granger' earlier today, I had apparently been wrong, that had been 'merely vexed Granger'… this is anger.
"That's not…" I start to deny her allegations; my mother wouldn't do that… I think back to last month when the Prophet announced the mixed marriage bill 'I'll sort it dear' she'd said… had this been sorting it?
"Kingsley's assistant heard the whole thing and told me!" she spat, "Your mother said, and I quote 'If my son, is to marry a Mudblood, he'll marry the best one!'" her friends stare at me like I said the words, I don't say that word any more, I only think it.
"I didn't know my mother had done that." I say honestly "perhaps we should just try to make the best of a bad situation Granger." I'll be the grown-up if she can't.
"I'm not stabbing you in the face right now Malfoy, that is my best." She stands from the booth and pushes past me, jumping into the floo, her friends haven't moved their eyes from me.
"You're so fucked," the not dead twin says.
"You so much as annoy her, Ferret" the Weasley girl warns in a tone so placid and calm it makes me twitch, she reminds me of my father "I'll turn your twig and berries into a pretty little evening clutch."
"She's not joking," the toad boy says with a laugh and points at the pink purse on the table "that's Carrow" I swallow, they're savages, that is what they are.
"Granger?" the door to the conference room I was summoned to opens, it's not her. It's a man in a sharp suit, followed by another and then a woman and then another man and finally Granger.
"what's this?" I ask as I recognise one of the faces, Alan Plumtree, our family attorney.
"we're here to advocate for Miss Hermione Granger," Plumtree says with a smirk.
"You're my lawyer!" I sound like a child, I hate when my voice sounds like that, I'm surprised I don't add a 'my father will hear of this' for good measure.
"I was dismissed by your father before his trial" Alan sneers at me "when he discovered my Grandmother was a muggle" Granger is staring me down, so are her 'team', of course, the bloody best lawyers in Britain have rallied around her. She's Hermione fucking Granger. I sigh.
"here are our client's terms" he opens a binder and starts to read "Miss Granger will comply with the ministry's recent legislative decisions, she will marry you at the earliest possible convenience, she will consent to artificial insemination, she will not take the Malfoy name, your shared child will be named Granger-Malfoy, you can choose where you live however Miss Granger will insist on her own bedroom, study and bathroom. The ministry has stated that after five years the couple may disband so long as procreation has occurred, Miss Granger has generously agreed that she will make no claim on the Malfoy vaults or estate at the separation."
I can't believe we're not even married yet and the spiteful mudblood is planning our separation "how gracious." I respond, meaning none of it.
"as a sign of good faith, Miss Granger will waive the infidelity clause… you may take a mistress or do as you please so long as you don't bring your …" I stop him, I stop his smug, nasty mouth in its tracks.
"no." I state angrily "not happening."
"Excuse me?" the woman I am to marry pipes up, her face no longer stony, she's confused.
"You might not want to take the Malfoy name, but while you are my wife you are a member of my family, and I will not disrespect you or my family by sleeping with some 'side bint'." I hiss but am shocked by the sudden softening of the mudblood's features. She didn't expect this from me, good.
"Malfoy…" she starts, the female lawyer tries to quiet her, but she gives her a sharp look, my soon to be wife is in charge "five years is a long time to go without… intimacy." She explains, and I expect her to blush, but she doesn't.
"So, this 'clause' is for you then?" she wants to fuck other men, she won't fuck me, but she'll fuck other men? NO.
"no." she shakes her head "I was trying to be accommodating for you… I thought it would be a nice gesture."
"you thought wrong Granger." I huff, the meeting continues, and I agree to most of the terms in place. I haven't much choice because if I don't agree she's stated that she'll snap her own wand and live as a muggle… but before she does, she'll let everyone know why. She'll blame me, and any good faith I've built in the last five years will dissolve. She's evil.
"Granger" I whisper it low, she looks upset, she'd asked for this part of the ceremony to be removed. I'd agreed with her, but the stupid ministry official has got carried away and declared we must kiss, there's an awkward silence as our friends and family watch us frozen in front of the celebrant.
"just do it," she whispers back, she hates people to see her as anything less than a lioness warrior, a hero who baulks in the face of an uncomfortable situation. I hate to admit it, but the fact I appear to be her biggest challenge makes me pleased.
I press a light peck on her lips and watch as she blushes a little, there is no applause, the small gathering stare on with stoic faces "where are your parents?" I ask as we retreat to the garden of the manor for photographs to be taken. The Prophet and the minister seem very keen on publicising our torture, we are the first couple to marry under the new laws, we are the ones who will guide the others and make them feel less sad about their situation, we are the poster children. Granger knows it too, and she's not happy.
"I decided not to tell them." She replies.
"Mr Malfoy if you could just stand behind your wife and look at her lovingly," the small photographer says, and I position myself behind her.
"Smile Hermione." The minister says, trying to 'improve the optics'
"No," she says it like a child, she stares the camera down.
"Hermione…" Kingsley starts, my mother is standing beside him, she looks amused.
"Kingsley" Hermione starts back "unless you've written a new law which states I'm legally obliged to smile, I shan't"
"are you ever going to tell them?" I ask her as I place my hands on her hips and feel her stiffen, I want to make a good show of this. I don't want the front page of tomorrows paper to show me looking like the Bronze Medal Granger didn't want.
"Nope." She shoots me a small smile, and the photographer quickly snaps.
"What about when you have the baby." It's strange, we seem to only be able to talk about our future if it includes the inevitable baby. It's the main- reason we've been forced together, and it's the only thing we both seem to care much about.
"I'll tell them I had a one-night stand, Malfoy… you're never going to meet my mother and father." She folds her arms and looks at her feet.
"Why?" I turn her round to look at me, I can't believe I will never meet my child's grandparents.
"You're the boy who sent me home from school every summer in tears Malfoy. I had a bald patch in the third year because of the stress you caused me." She laughs, actually laughs at my stupid dumbfounded face "They hate you." There's another snap, and I tell myself that this one might actually be a good picture, telling me I am hated has elicited a smile from her lips.
"I apologised for that," I say, my voice low, I don't want the officials hearing about this. Every time I manage to make some ground at the ministry one of her 'friends' walk in and reminds everyone I was a dick.
"no. no, you did not." She states categorically "you apologised to Harry and Ron and even Mrs Weasley, you did not apologise to me." She turns to the camera and makes a rude hand gesture before stalking back into my home. Her home now.
"I think we got one!" the photographer says excitedly.
"Granger!" she has walked away from me again, I specifically asked her not to wander off from me in the muggle world.
"I'm here." She appears as if by magic at my side, she barely tolerates me and I am always aware of it. "this is it." she pushes open a large glass door and I follow her in. We are seen almost immediately, it appears my galleons are worth something in the Muggle world too.
"Mr and Mrs Malfoy." The muggle healer greets us with a very white smile, I'm pleased when my wife does not correct the woman.
"artificial insemination is a great option for couples who've struggled to conceive the traditional way. How long have you been trying?" the very pretty woman asks us, Hermione makes to answer, but I interrupt despite her warning me to stay quiet before we entered.
"We've not," I say brightly.
"excuse me?" the healer looks confused, quite rightly so, I'm confused too, according to nearly every girl I've met… I'm irresistible.
"We've not tried, not once."
"Our marriage was an arranged one, and my new husband is a homosexual repulsed by the mere mention of a vagina." Granger pinches me under the table but smiles at the befuddled muggle woman.
"oh." She responds "you don't look like the 'arranged marriage' types." She laughs nervously, I feel my wife stiffen beside me.
"because we're white?" she asks in a sharp voice "that's very racist of you." I have no idea what this is about but judging by the muggle healer's face my wife has won.
"I… I just I've never seen…" the muggle stops herself, and my wife stares her down
"Well, now you have." She scolds and picks up her bag, "We'll go elsewhere." She hisses at me, I know this whole thing is my fault, but I'm oddly happy that my baby won't be created in this sterile building.
"Granger?" I knock her door, she hasn't spoken to me since the visit to the muggle doctor last week.
"go away." She sounds sad, I know she is. She hates the manor, and she hates me.
"I won't," I say with all the petulance of a teenager, I use my wand to dispel her wards and force my way into her private abode where I find her laying on her bed. She's lived here for a month now, and this is the first time I've seen it, I had expected Gryffindor banners and maroon wall hangings, instead I find the room looking exactly as I remember it being before her arrival. She's not personalised it at all, in fact judging by the boxes stacked all around the place she's not unpacked.
"I'm sorry Granger," I say it, and I mean it, it's a blanket sorry, a sorry for everything. I want to convey to her that this is her long overdue apology for school, for the interim, for the war, for her torture…
"for what?" she asks, she sits up in the bed, I can see now that she's been crying.
"everything." I say quietly, I can't look at her eyes "everything" I repeat it, I run my fingers through my hair, and I know this is my punishment. I will atone for my sins by being trapped in a marriage with a woman who hates me.
"okay." She responds I look at her only to see that she is laying down again with her back to me, I leave.
"Granger?"
"Yes Draco, Granger, we need to talk about what's going on." My mother frowns and the lines that appeared on her face during the Dark Lord's stay, deepen.
"there's nothing to talk about," I say and attempt to skulk away; my mother grasps my arm firmly.
"your wife is living out of boxes, she's been here two months and hasn't unpacked a single thing!" My mother throws her arms in the air, finally releasing me "the elves say she cries." My mother scowls at me like I am the cause.
"My wife… hates me. She hates you, and she hates this house. She was tortured in this house, the house you insisted we live in mother." I am furious, I wanted to live in father's old city apartment, with its big windows and proximity to the leaky cauldron… but mother had forbidden it, it was her one request that we stay with her, and of course, I cave, because she is my mother.
"You've made no effort!" she has ignored the point entirely.
"Mother, the woman, is so repulsed by me she'll only agree to carry my child if a muggle healer takes my seed and inserts it into her with a fucking needle!" I yell as I haven't quite come to terms with Granger's methodology which is probably why I so gallantly sabotaged our meeting with the 'fertility expert'.
"She doesn't know you!" my mother coos, I have clearly confounded her with the mugglyness of my woeful tale because she ignores everything I have said "you should do something nice for her" she's now nodding at me wisely "your father and I were arranged too you know, I had no say… I locked myself away in my room, and then I was told to be dutiful and do what was asked of me or face the consequences. I hated your father from that moment on Draco, which is why neither of us is in prison" I sometimes forget that my mother was an active spy for the Order through her sister Andromeda, and then I suddenly remember and realise all over again that she's stronger and braver than I ever was. "My point being, be a better man than your father."
"Granger?" I tap on her door lightly.
"what?" her tone is short, and it makes me scared.
"I have something for you," I say as I enter her room, paid house elves in small shirts push the gift in behind me, her boxes are still unpacked.
"what is that?" she asks at the giant black cube behind me.
"a T.V" I pronounce the letters clearly, I'm not sure I'm saying it right. "Arthur Weasley says it runs without lightning?" the old man had said a lot of things, none of them made sense "and that it's rigged to receive all panels."
"channels." She corrects, I notice, for the first time in our marriage, she doesn't look annoyed.
"I thought some home comforts might make this all a little more tolerable for you" I dismiss the elves with a wave of my hand and groan inwardly when the shut the door behind them.
"that was kind of you." She's polite, it's certainly a step up from silence, so I take it.
"I… I think we should have a chat." I clear my throat, and nervously I try to find a comfortable spot in her room, I spy a chair and plop down on it, I have at this moment decided I will not leave until a resolution can be found "about this." I point at the space between us and realise I'm an absolute idiot and a terrible communicator.
"Alright then." She takes a breath, she is attempting to steady herself, I consider these to be good signs.
"I'm sorry again, for my behaviour at the muggle healer…" she doesn't let me finish, she has a hand raised.
"Don't be sorry about that." She is shaking her head, and I can see fresh tears are welling in her eyes "I was glad, deep down I mean, I didn't want to go through with it that's why I overreacted with that doctor… she didn't really do anything wrong." she bows her head "I'm not ready Malfoy, I'm 25, and I don't want a baby right now."
"there's nothing wrong with that," I assure her, I'm actually a little relieved.
"everyone expects…" it is my turn to interrupt her.
"everyone can 'fuck off'," I use her favourite phrase and see a micro smile as I do "Granger, Kingsley has already forced you into a marriage you didn't want he can't force you to reproduce." My chair is close enough to her bed that with some effort I could lean over and pat her hand, but I don't.
"what if I'm never ready?" she whispers, her eyes focusing on her knees, there's a knot in my stomach at the idea of a childless life, but I resolve to be unselfish in this instance.
"then we stay married and childless until one of us dies" I attempt a joke, it DOES NOT land "that's what the law states" I try to sweep up the mess from my word bomb. This would all be so much easier if she wasn't so beautiful, I am inexplicably attracted to her in a way I didn't know was possible, I believe this to be part of my atonement.
I watch her as she fiddles with the hem of her shorts, her legs are smooth and remind me of the sugared cookies my grandmother would eat, I rarely get to look at her, she's always at work or locked in this room, so I take the opportunity.
"I can't live like this Malfoy." The tears that have been threatening since I entered finally spill
"what can I do?" I ask hurriedly, I thought to beg was beneath me, evidently not
She's looking me over, and I feel like I might throw up "are you really sorry or are you just sorry you lost?" she asks me, it's the question that will probably hang over me till I die.
"I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough, I'm sorry I was cruel and vicious… I'd like to say I had an excuse" I rub my eyes frantically, I hate talking about my feelings, it has been discouraged in the Malfoy family since 1266 but my mother told me it was the only way to attempt to mend my 'Granger Issue' "My father didn't order me to mock you, he did appreciate it… I am sorry though, I wish I could go back and just shut myself up…"
She's watching me carefully, her eyes burn a hole in me and make me feel like she can see everything inside, I plough on with my long overdue apology tour "but If I'm honest Granger", and If I can't be honest with my wife who can I be honest with "you were an easy target, and I was jealous… and my father told me if you got too close I'd catch 'Muggle lice'…" she laughs. She actually laughs, and my eyes shoot up to her, her hands are on her stomach, and she looks genuinely amused "so to answer your initial question, the one thing I'm not sorry about is that my father lost" I won't say 'we lost' I was never a willing participant, and after examining my memories the ministry agrees.
"I accept your apology." She gives me a half smile and my heart thuds.
"thank you, Granger, and as for what happened here…" I try to explain my part in her torture.
"Malfoy I was there, I was looking right at you." She swallows "you took no pleasure in that" she's not wrong, the memory of her screaming on my floor is etched into my mind, the sound haunts me as I sleep, I took no pleasure in it.
"Granger, are you sure this is safe?" I ask as I climb into the wheeled, metal, death trap she arrived in today.
"We're not going to leave the Manor grounds, and you said you wanted to ride in a car." She's smiling at me, she does that more and more now. It's strange, four months a married man and other than on our wedding day we haven't really touched, I live on a diet of her smiles and laughs.
"well please remember as you pilot this monstrosity that we're both very important people," I say as she reaches over me and pulls a black strap across my chest, popping the metal end of it into a socket.
"I'm a very important person, you're just important Malfoy." She smirks and presses a button, the roof of the car folds into itself, and I can't contain the gasp I emit, the more I learn about them, the more I think Muggles might actually be a little better than us. They make cooler toys, that's for sure.
I watch in wonder and some terror as the world flies past my eyes, Granger is gleefully pelting us around one of the vacant fields on my family's acreage, her hair flies wildly behind her, and she lets out gleeful whoops as she pulls the wheel in front of her making us skid and mud fly.
"How can you find flying scary, but this is fine?" I ask her breathlessly when she finally returns us to the front of the manor, the once red 'car' is now brown with dirt. Luckily, she placed a shielding charm on me, so my hair is fine, we can all breathe that sigh of relief we've been holding in.
"This car makes sense, you explain to me how a broom flies?" She unbuckles me first and then herself, before stepping out.
"magic" I answer directly, following her to the manor.
"that's not enough for me." She gives a small smile.
"Granger…" I growl as I force my eyes open, lamenting another unfulfilling dream of almosts and nearlys with my untouchable wife.
"what?" I hear her say from outside my door, I start to panic, she heard me.
"Granger?" I ask with a squeak, dragging the blankets around me to cover my mid-morning 'matter'.
"What is it?" she asks, she sounds frustrated.
"What are you doing?" I ask, my brain still muggy from sleep and dreams.
"I was walking down to the kitchen when you shouted my name!" She says as she pushes my door open, I see her eyes widen a micron as she looks my bare chest over. She scrunches her nose "what do you want?"
"You came in my room!" I say stupidly, I'm terrified she'll know what's under the pile of blankets heaped in my lap.
"Because you shouted my name!" she roars in exasperation, I think I might be blushing, she shakes her head and leaves slamming the door behind her. I need to get to the shower.
"Granger?" I ask gently as I enter the library.
"what's up?" she looks up from her book and smiles at me. I save that look in my mind for later perusal.
"You said you wanted to readdress the 'baby' issue after six months" I sit beside her on the small sofa, she looks a little shocked at my sudden proximity but I'm committed to a new regime "I put it in the diary, it's been six months."
"oh." She closes the book and turns to look me face on, I do not turn away, I do not avert my eyes. I've noticed in the past few weeks I can make her blush by maintaining eye contact. I have also, strategically, increased our physical contact. I touched her hand three weeks ago when we were eating breakfast, I made sure she knew it was deliberate by smiling as I did it. I held her hand last week when we walked through the snow, at first it was to steady her, but when she found her footing I did not release… it had been a whole thirty minutes of continuous contact, and it had been glorious. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to speak to a different doctor, perhaps we can just get some more information." She states and I watch a tinge of pink creep up her jaw as I stare at her face.
"no," I say, I say it pleasantly but firmly.
"no?" she asks, her voice growing a little shrill as she scrutinises my expression.
"I'm no longer comfortable with creating my child in a muggle lab." I explain "I'd like to do it the old-fashioned way." The pinkness in her cheeks is deepening as she follows my meaning.
"but we don't feel…" she points at the space between us and I grab her hand. 'it's do or die Malfoy' a voice screams in my head.
"I do." I say, my heart thuds uncontrollably, but months of wanting and not having, has driven me to the point of insanity. "you may not, not right now, but until you do I will continue with my attempts to…" I pause, I can't say 'normalise our physical contact through a regime of exposure' I swallow, cringing at my next words "woo you."
"but… Malfoy… you're just lonely and horny!" she states in annoyance, it's a well-rehearsed excuse, and I wonder if it's one she's had to tell herself "You don't like me."
"I do." I repeat my previous sentiment ", and for the record, my mother's request had nothing to do with our matching. I went to the department of mysteries, and they told me we were matched as 'highly compatible' by an ancient spell which analyses our personality, biology, character and sexuality" I smirk, I can't help it. I've been sitting on this information for two months, it's what has kept me going.
I even enquired into the workings of the spell knowing full well she'd never just been content with 'magic' as an answer. I flick my wand and a roll of parchment flies into the room, I hand it to her "the details of our match, it's technically a classified document so don't lose it" I throw all caution to the wind and peck her on the cheek before standing and swiftly leaving. Well, let it never be repeated that a Malfoy is a coward.
"Granger, is that you?" the door to my room has creaked open, I can see a silhouette of curls and tense shoulders. I know fine well it's her. I could hear her pacing outside twenty minutes ago. It's been a week since my declaration, and she's avoided me since.
"Get up." She commands, I obey, leaping out of my bed in nothing but my boxers and am stalking around to her.
"stay there." She puts her hand out, and I stop in the middle of my room. She steps in and closes the door, shrouding my room in complete darkness once again. I hear her taking soft steps, and I feel her hand making brief contact with my bare chest as she touches her way blindly towards me. She snatches her hand away from my skin, but she continues to stand in front of me, my eyes are already adjusted to the darkness, and I can clearly see her features. She's looking up at me, her own orbs now used to the lack of light.
"I don't know how I feel." She says with a sigh "I don't know if I can do this, because I don't know…" she shakes her head and groans in frustration. I'm relieved that I'm not the only one in this relationship who struggles to express themselves.
"What do you want me to do?" I ask, perhaps she'll ask me to leave, to fake my death so she can escape the law…
"kiss me." Her voice shakes, and my heart leaps "I don't know what I feel, and I think if you kiss me I'll know more." I've already penned a joke about her being a know it all, but I keep it to myself. I lean low, and before she can change her mind, I grab her lips in mine, my hands quickly snake around her waist as I pull her into me. She's given me a chance to show her, I might not be able to tell her but I can indeed show her. I tilt my head again and grab her bottom lip in my teeth tugging it gently, she groans, and I have to stop myself from ramming my tongue into her vulnerable mouth.
She finally pushes back, and I release her "did that help?" I ask as I smirk uncontrollably.
"thanks" she stumbles away and finally wrenches the door open, she's gone, and I have no Idea if what happened was good or bad.
'Granger' I don't say it out loud, I just think it over and over again. She's not been home since yesterday, she's not owled, and I am frantic. The ministry is in chaos as I arrive "Malfoy, what you doing here?" Potter yells at me from across the entrance hall.
"I'm looking for my wife." I snap and turn to the elevators.
"We're under attack!" Potter informs me, there's an explosion (apparently not the first), and I look behind me to see masked men. 'shit.' There's 15 of them, and it appears they set the explosives to herald their entry, I recognise the masks. This must be their last stand. I draw my wand, there's a flash of frizzy hair in front of me, and I see my wife in the centre of the fray.
She is magnificent, and has somehow acquired a black eye, she slides along the marble floor on her back and disarms two men before binding them and sending them flying into the far wall. My wife is now freely using one of her acquired wands in her spare hand, so powerful a witch is she, the black stick obeys her instantly. A hulking bastard moves towards her and I quickly crush his ribs with a ball of sheer velocity conjured effortlessly from my own wand, he crumbles to the floor, and I bind him like the others. More ministry officials are flooding the atrium "Behind you!" Granger screams, I duck instinctively and she fires a red ball of flame at the man I am relatively sure is my cousin, judging by the hair.
"Nice shot wife," I say as I pull her to her feet, I survey the scene, there are only two death eaters actively fighting now, and they're surrounded. Hermione swoons at my side, I think she might faint, I wrap my arm around her waist and haul her to a floo. "we need to give a statement" she protests as I throw the powder down and carry her into the hearth.
"They can come to the house and take it, you're injured," I say calmly, I do not feel calm, now with no death eaters to hex I am forced to take in her appearance. She's dirty, her eye blackened and what looks like a deep gash on her leg.
we step out of the grate, and I resolve to lift her; my arms scoop her up and carry her to my bed "what happened?" I say between gritted teeth.
"I was on a day trip with Kingsley, to France." She gasps and clutches her side, she is bleeding, and I'm an adequate enough healer to help. I roll up her shirt to reveal another gaping wound, I hiss, it looks painful. "a diplomatic endeavour to arrest the last of the original Death Eaters." She continues to talk and I know it's to distract her from my wand which is cleaning the largest wound. "we were ambushed, they used Kingsley's access to send explosives through the floos… Ah!" she has pinched her eyes closed and is breathing heavily through her nose "They forced me to give them coordinates to the minister's office, but I knew the Aurors were doing a training exercise this morning in the main atrium so… that's where I took them."
"Why wasn't I informed you were in danger?" I say as I pour a healing salve on her stomach and bind her with bandages from my wand.
"I told them not to when we were first married." I turn my focus to her leg as I continue to listen to her, I need to remove her trousers, I opt to do rather than tell "I thought you wouldn't be that interested." She says as I pop the button on her pants and start to shuffle them carefully down her hips. She has stiffened. "What are you doing?" she sounds breathy, I'm sure it's from blood loss and the adrenaline, but a very idiotic part of me hopes it's arousal.
"Your leg is cut, on the thigh… I can rip the trousers off if you'd prefer, or we could go to St Mungos?" I offer, I know her answer though, she hates the wizarding hospital. She shakes her head, and I hide my smile, she lifts her rear a little to aid me in my removal. I move slowly, careful not to pull the fabric away from her open wound too quickly. It has already dried in some spots and fused the fabric and flesh together. "This'll sting," I whisper, opting to use my wand to separate the two. She nods and looks away. She hums a low agonised hum as I break the scab and pull away her trousers, once I have made it past the wound I am quick and professional. I ignore the blue cotton pants she wears as I clean the gash.
"Jim!" I call, and an elf appears.
"Bring me my wife's sleeping things, a pain potion and a tuna sandwich please." Jim needs no further instruction, he pops away and is back within seconds, his arms full of the things I require.
Granger hisses a pained breath as I clean the cut, it is deep, and I'm sure I see a flash of white bone. I don't rush, the infection will be far more painful than this when I'm satisfied I apply more healing salve, and finally, I bandage her leg. I quickly cast a cleaning charm over her body and grab her bed shorts from the pile Jim brought. I stretch the waistband and carefully pull them up her leg, I allow my knuckle a chance encounter with her thigh to reward my diligence.
"Do you want a clean top?" I hold her bed shirt up, and I hide my glee when she nods and lifts her arms with a wince.
She's wearing a sports bra, the kind some muggle women wear as they jog down the street, it's modest and to any other man completely non-sexual. I am taken by the garment, astounded by its practicality and also, its prettiness, I shake myself and quickly cover her with the clean bed shirt. I hand her the pain potion and the sandwich "Drink this then eat that" I command and sit on the bed, I watch her as she obeys me.
"thank you." She mutters, the potion empty and the sandwich now being attacked "why were you at the ministry?" she looks up at me, and I note with dismay that I have neglected to treat her bruised eye.
"I was looking for you." I say and shuffle forward, I grab her chin gently in my grasp and turn her face to me "who punched you?" I try to keep my voice calm, I'm less annoyed by the stab wounds and more vexed that someone could swing a punch at her perfect face.
"Theo Knott." She licks her lip, and I realise how close my hand is to her mouth, I don't release her instead I tilt her face to the light to get a better look, Knott's a big bastard, I'm surprised he didn't break her cheekbone.
"I'm going to kill him," I say quietly as I drop my hand from her face, I mean it, this is no bravado. This is an oath made to a wife by her husband, she shakes her head.
"no, you're not" she grabs my hand, I can hardly breathe as she brings it back to her face, she places my palm on her cheek and holds me there "I already shattered his right leg with a spell I invented that breaks a bone into 500 pieces" she smiles and I can't help but beam with pride at my little wife.
"thank you." She repeats it, her eyelids droop, the pain potion is taking effect.
"lie down." I lift the empty plate onto the side table and guide her, pulling the blankets up to her chin as I do.
"You're a really good husband." She laughs airily as her eyelids flicker shut.
"and you're a good wife," I respond I'm not sure what to say and returning a compliment is always nice.
"That's not true." She mumbles as she rolls onto her unwounded side "If I were a good wife I'd sleep with you." It's barely audible, but I'm sure those are the words I just heard. I should leave, I turn to exit, suddenly feeling like a perverted intruder in my own room.
"Granger, Potter is here." I go into my room where she is still asleep, she's slept in my bed for nearly ten hours.
"Hermione" the speccy boy who lived too long, pushes past me and kneels at her bedside.
"Kingsley said they tortured you." He whispers clutching her hand, they tortured my wife. I feel my blood boiling.
"Kingsley overreacts." My wife mutters, pushing herself into a sitting position, she offers me a warm smile and turns back to Potter. "They cut me and slapped me about a bit, no unforgivables… If I'm honest the ones who took me all seemed pretty green, they were more interested in accessing the Minister's office than hurting me." She smiles, and it makes my heart ache, she's been through worse, she's been through worse in this house.
"We've arrested them all, Malfoy's given his statement and changed your contact form at work… which he's apparently allowed to do as your husband…" The boy who lived clears his throat "I can just take a pensive sample rather than go through the questioning."
My wife nods at Potter's offer, and I'm grateful, I watch as he puts the tip of his wand to her temple then stores the silver liquid in a small bottle. He's telling Granger she's got to take a week off work, she's arguing because of course, she is. I smile uncontrollably and begin plotting ways to keep her in this bed.
"bye Malfoy." Potter is leaving, I missed everything they've said, too focused on the possibilities of Granger not having work to hide at. I hear the door slam, we're alone, and she's awake "Stay where you are." I command when she starts to swing her legs out. "I had a healer come check up on you when you slept, he recommends bed rest, and we change your dressings regularly." I remain straight-faced.
"I can convalesce in my own room." My wife reasons, but I'll have none of it.
"You can stay here where I can keep an eye on you" I can see her mind forming an argument, but I stop her "My darling wife, you have been stabbed and punched… please, since I cannot exact revenge on your behalf, let me care for you?" I'll feel useless if she doesn't, I'll feel pointless.
"fine." She pulls her blankets back up and winces. I am at her side in a flash, a pain potion in hand and fresh bandages
"Granger!" I warn as she attempts to climb from the bed.
"I am fine, I am healed and I am fine, and I will climb these bloody walls… let me out!" she snaps at me, I smile at her.
"The healer says the wound on your side isn't healing because you keep fidgeting," I say calmly from my desk.
"He's wrong!" she lifts her shirt and shows me clean bandages "no blood! It's healed!"
"it's been less than 12 hours since you first woke up, you have a head injury and a deep wound," I state plainly, I stand to move closer to her. I pretend to examine the gash on her side just as an excuse to touch her. She's had a dose of pain potion and some pepper up to counter the drowsiness the result is a woman who feels invincible and also restless.
"I'm fine." She says the words softly, her mouth so close to my ear, I snap my head around and evaluate her. I don't speak, I force her next move with silence, she smiles and places her hand on my shoulder.
"now I know you've got a head injury," I say it slowly, half joking.
"I feel pretty clear headed" she steps even closer to me; her breasts are pushed against my chest, and she's tilting her chin at me defiantly.
"Ah, then you're trying to exploit my feelings in a bid to win your freedom?" I smirk down at her, I know her game. She pulls this lovely little-scrunched face that confesses her guilt to me, and I laugh "So very Slytherin"
"I could've been you know." She pushes back from me and sits on the edge of the bed, she pats the space beside her. I don't know why she wants me close, her jig is up.
"How?" I ask, resigning to her demands and joining her on the bed.
"The hat told me so." She smiles at me, and I don't know where I stand since she woke up, smiles for me have become far more frequent.
"I think you'd have still been too good for us Granger." I shuffle a little closer, I have the overwhelming desire to kiss her, I don't care if she's playing me. "I think if I hadn't been a Malfoy, I could've been a Ravenclaw."
"I could see that" she grins up at me, a blush creeping on her cheeks "If you hadn't been a Malfoy, and you'd been in Ravenclaw… You think we'd have been friends?" she bites her lip, is she flirting? I don't know, it's only recently that she's shown me anything beyond hostility, I don't know what this is. Perhaps this is why Potter and Weasley love her so, maybe this is what Hermione the friend looks like… all sexy and coy.
"yes," I affirm, my voice feels like it might shake, so I opt to offer monosyllabic answers.
"I always wondered what your study method was." She giggles nervously, and it somehow puts me at ease, she's Granger… Granger who wonders about my study method, and finds it giggle-worthy.
"I think if we'd studied together I might have stood a chance at beating you," I say, my voice does shake a little, but she seems not to notice.
"you came so close in charms" she confides, she turns to face me pulling her injured leg onto the bed and stretching it out behind me with a pained sigh, I realise I am an inch away from sitting in-between her legs. "Flitwick let me see the scores for our OWLs you were half a point behind me, but you always bested me in potions." She pats my arm, there is electricity in her fingers, and my heart feels like it might pop.
I decide to be bold "I think If I'd been a Ravenclaw" I leave out the 'not a Malfoy' part "we definitely would have snogged in the library at least once." I nod authoritatively and relish in her blush.
"no way!" she laughs and gives me a gentle shove. "in no universe do you kiss me at school."
"Oh yes, one hundred percent I would've at least tried" I lower my tone, I put on my most serious voice "when we were in the fourth year, I was a Slytherin and the son of a death eater and your mortal enemy… and I still thought about it, Granger."
"You weren't my mortal enemy" she smiles at me, I can't believe this is her take away "that was Voldemort, you weren't even my least favourite Slytherin!" she chuckles, and tucks some hair behind her ear, I am torn. On the one hand, I want to leap onto her and show her how very much I want her, but on the other, she is terribly injured with unhealed lacerations on her torso.
"Pansy?" I ask I attempt to restrain my desire.
"God she was evil." My wife shakes her head "she poisoned me after the Yule ball, I spent a week puking."
"She's still mental, also furious about you and I being matched." I offer, and she smirks, I can't help my response, I lean forward and press the most chaste kiss I can on her lips before I remember myself and try to pull away, but she stops me. My wife's fist is balled in the collar of my shirt holding me close to her face, she doesn't speak or move, she just looks at me as I struggle to breathe and hold myself at bay.
"that wasn't fair." She says it softly her brow furrows, I make to apologise for my lack of restraint, but she stops me with a gentle kiss "you used my hatred of Parkinson as part of your 'wooing'" she frames the word 'wooing' with her fingers, reminding me of my awkward declaration. I duck my head with an embarrassed laugh, she shocks me by wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me into her, she holds me for a moment and releases me, we're awkward, neither sure of what to say, I clear my throat.
"lie back down and stop moving about" I command as I stand, I drop a kiss on her forehead "you need to heal" I say the words and they are loaded, she needs to heal so I can attack her with my hands and mouth, she needs to heal so I can pin her against a bookcase in the Malfoy library and re-enact my 4th year fantasies.
"Granger, is everything all right?" I ask lifting my wand, she's sitting in my bed, watching me sleep in the chair beside her, she looks sadder than usual.
"You look really uncomfortable." She offers me a small smile in the darkened room.
"I'm alright," I say, I try to sound convincing but everything aches… I'll do anything to keep her here, in the room that should be hers, be ours.
"come here." She pats the open space beside her.
"what?" I sound idiotic as I stare open-mouthed at the sheets, as though they weren't the same ones I'd been sleeping on for years.
"just come here." She repeats it, I stand slowly and walk towards my bed tentatively when I finally reach her my eyes have accustomed completely to the dark. She's removed her bandages, the magic she so distrusts has healed her entirely. She is as good as new. She is perfect. "should I go?" she asks pointing to the flesh where the wound once was, is that why she's sad? She thinks she has to leave?
"no," I say it quickly, and I sit down on the bed beside her, "The healer said a week, and a week it shall be"
"then at least sleep in your bed" she pulls the duvet I am sitting on down "with me."
I swallow, I genuinely don't know if I can lie by her side without trying to hold her, touch her, but the opportunity is too inordinate. After all, this time to sleep in the same bed as my wife, it's too tempting. I lie back careful not to make contact with her, my hands pull the duvet with me.
"better?" she asks, she's rolled on her side to face me her breath tickles me, I turn to look at her if only to stop the entirely too intimate sensation of her exhalations lifting the hairs on the nape of my neck.
"much" I respond, our faces are so close, her small hand reaches up and pets my cheek. I have stopped breathing again.
"I don't understand this." She says honestly, I watch her examine my face "I feel this" she points between us ", and I don't understand it and, I'm naturally slightly distrustful of the things I can't understand. But I trust you." She concludes, my heart has returned to thudding, blood is rushing in my ears.
"I… I'm glad" I manage to choke out, she trusts me, I have no idea what I have done to deserve this trust, but there it is.
"You came looking for me at the ministry…" her thumb drags on my lower lip, and I try to suppress a squirm ", and you defended me" her hand is palm down on my cheek "thank you."
"you're my wife," I say simply, "I'll always come looking for you."
She blinks prettily, and I want to kiss her so badly, but more so I want her to kiss me. I have started a one-sided game of chicken, one which I so desperately want to end.
"Draco," she says my name softly, adding an experimental click to the 'c', it makes me shudder she has won. I duck my head forward and kiss her, my name from her lips, a magical combination that enthrals me. I pull back, furious with myself, she invites me to sleep beside her, and I can only contain myself for five minutes.
I roll onto my back again and try to breathe, I'm shocked when she follows my movement and turns so that she is belly down and half on top of me, her breast pushing into my bicep "Draco." She repeats it, elongating the 'o' as her thumb finds my lip again "I trust you." She says it quietly, she kisses my shoulder and then shimmies slightly. The movement of her body against mine makes me tremble like a school girl, I disgust myself sometimes.
I turn my head to face her, and our noses bump, she pouts and presses her lips to mine a chaste peck before she pulls her head back and looks at me. She smiles at my dumbfounded expression before leaning in and kissing me again, longer this time, she sucks on my lower lip, and it spurs me into action. My arms snake around her waist pulling her entirely on top of me, her face hovers above mine, her hair creating a tent around us. I feel her legs separate as she straddles my stomach. Her kisses grow harder, more desperate, my hands find her perfect behind, and I squeeze gently, I feel as though my hands had come to the end of a long pilgrimage that began in my fourth year at Hogwarts, when a rogue spell blew her skirt up and I first realised how perfect a behind it was. I push down a little, squeezing her hot centre closer to my stomach she gasps, all semblance of slowness is gone as I hear this sound. My tongue darts forward taking ample opportunity of her open mouth, I start to sit, the sudden incline of my body forces her to slide down. The friction makes her groan, her noises spur me on. I pull her legs from under her and wrap them around my waist, securing her to me, we sit facing each other. I can feel the heat and damp from between her thighs, through her bed shorts against my lower abdomen, and It makes my breath catch. She pulls away, and I'm scared for a second that she's changed her mind.
"help me" she whispers, lifting her arms up, I take her lead and lift her shirt over her head and off the ends of her fingertips slowly. There's no practical sports bra today, there's nothing but skin, it's better than I could have imagined. Her own fingers grip the hem of my pullover, and she drags it off me, throwing it to the side, lest it returns.
"if this is too fast, we can wait… I can wait… maybe take you out" I rabble like an idiot when she pushes her chest against mine.
"We're married" she reminds me as she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls herself up, dragging herself against all of me, "mine" she whispers possessively against my mouth, it sparks something in me, competitiveness. She is not conquering me, she is surrendering! I flip us, and she squeals, releasing her grip on me she pushes the hair out of her face and looks up at me, my stomach flips for the millionth time. Her hair frames her perfectly, I'm endlessly surprised that people didn't realise I loved her hair… it was all I could talk about for years. "Mine," I claim her, trapped as she is beneath my body as my mouth crashes into hers and my hips roll, eliciting noises I didn't know my wife capable of. Her mewls lull me as I continue my ministrations. I want to kiss her from a million different angles, I am trying, but while my mind is elsewhere, my wife reminds me once again that she is stronger than me. With her legs in a vice-like a grip she uses her body weight to flip us once more, with me on my back she slides herself down causing me to buck as I feel damp heat push against my ache. "mine" she asserts as she nibbles my chin and swivels her hips.
I sit up again, and we find ourselves back in the position we started in, her legs wrapped around my waist our chests pressed tightly together, my wife lets out a frustrated 'tsk', and my mouth moves from her neck to better look at her "what's wrong?" I ask, convinced this is the moment she draws away and chastises me for trying to take advantage.
"These shorts." She tugs at the waistband of her sleepwear "I want them gone."
I scrabble around the bed and find my wand, with a flick her wish is my command. She's naked, as am I if there was ever a point of no return it is here. Before I can ask if she's sure, her hand has slipped between us, and I am inside her, I can't hold in the sigh of relief that tumbles from my lips. She is my sanctuary, my absolution and my penance, she is my wife which makes her my everything.
"Don't move." She whimpers lightly, as she rocks minutely her arms snaking once again around my neck. I try, I try so hard but my hips betray, and I buck, she gasps pleasantly then shoots me a disapproving look "behave" she chastises, and her bossy little lips make me quiver.
I still again, it's everything not to flip her once more and pound into her with all of me, but I'm at her disposal "tomorrow" she starts to rock again, her movement is calculated and perfect, she clenches around me, and I buck involuntarily again, she doesn't scold me this time "I want to do this in the library." She nibbles my ear as she lets out a broken groan.
"yes" is all I can respond.
"Draco?" My wife's hand is pressed against my cheek, my eyes fly open.
"what is it? is it time?" I ask, panic rising in my throat.
She is nodding, we have a plan a simple and effective strategy, I just need to follow the steps… I for the life of me cannot remember the first step.
"Floo for the midwife." She says calmly, reminding me of our foolproof plan… I am the fool who it needs to be proofed from.
"then floo your mother" she continues, she is tranquil, radiant and perfect, she is my wife.
"yes." I am throwing powder into the fire, I have a recurring dream that I forget the dust in my haste and set my face on fire. This will not happen in reality, not on the day my son is welcomed into the world.
"Then get me a pain potion." She hisses, my wife's aches resonate in my heart, and I am on the move again. The midwife has been alerted, my mother received a frantic "It's time" screamed during her breakfast from the great hearth.
"your parents?" I ask
"I've texted them, they're in a taxi… dad didn't think he could drive." She beams at me, my wife about to give me my first child, I am giddy.
"I forgot to say." She pushes herself up in bed, conversationally, as though she's not mid labour "Alan Plumtree wrote me last week" she's snickering "our separation papers are ready to be signed, given it's been five years." I shake my head at her.
"That's not funny Hermione, why does he even have those?"
"I got him to write them up the day we married" she's still snickering at me; my wife is evil.
"tell him to burn them" I lean over her and plant a loud kiss on her lips. "mine" I growl.
"mine" she responds possessively.
FIN