Draco Malfoy

So here it is. The sequel to The Strangest Love! If you've never read that, you'll need to go and read it before you read this. It can be read alone, but you won't understand some of the things I've mentioned, and it might confuse you. Um…don't expect updates regularly… I start school soon, I have one chapter already wrote, am writing next now… Buh-bye.

Draco Malfoy. What would you think if you heard that name in conversation? Snob? Pure-blood extraordinare? Well, most things about Draco never changed. His hair – still gelled back as always; his looks – still sharp; and his humour was the same. His personality contrasted greatly, though, to what it used to be. People say you can never change a person, but Hermione Jean Granger did.

It had been six years since Hogwarts. Six years since Hermione and Draco had first kissed. They were still together. They'd stuck through everything together. Harry and Ron had been the main problem, but after they realised nothing they did or said would change Hermione's mind, they backed off a little bit and learned to accept Draco and treat him with some respect. It had been harder for Ron due to the fact that his entire family had been a victim of the Malfoys' insults at some point. They'd also had to fight the Slytherins off when they realised Draco's relationship to Hermione wasn't a hoax to embarrass her or to make her look a fool for thinking she even stood a chance with Draco.

The only Slytherin who had stood by Draco was Blaise, which – by default – made him an outcast among his Housemates. Draco was thankful for his loyal friend and they, too, were still close friends. Extremely close, to the point where Blaise had started to crash at Draco's four years ago and had never left. So Hermione and Draco were constantly pestered by a very irritating Blaise. Draco used to say it was like having a small child with them constantly, but soon stopped after Blaise started hitting him every time he said it.

If you were a friend of Draco's who had known him from a young age and were a follower of Voldemort, you'd never believe he'd lower himself to speak with a "Mudblood", never mind marry one. Draco had proven many people wrong and he'd given them proverbial heart attacks. He'd shocked people and fallen out with many of his old friends. His mother, after everything had been explained , was happy for her son and glad that he'd found someone like Hermione, someone who'd forgive all Draco's sins and not judge him for how he might have treated her when he was under his fathers' influence. Narcissa was also excited about the fact that in less than four weeks her little boy was going marry the woman he loved and she, Narcissa, would hopefully be made a grandmother. God can only hope, eh?

Draco Malfoy had proposed to Hermione Granger! Just what was the world coming to? Gosh. Never did anyone in the Wizarding world think they'd see the day those two were joined in matrimony and actually happy about it, and with neither of them under the Imperious Curse, so they must have agreed to it. Well, the Wizarding world was in shock. It had been over a year since their engagement, and everyone was used to it now. People didn't stare when they walked down the streets hand in hand, or when they were together constantly. Life, to our couple, was complete bliss.

Draco was on his way to meet his mother and fiancée. He'd just got out of work – he didn't need to work, but it was something to help pass the time and stop him sitting there staring at a clock and trying to work out exactly how many hours, minutes, and seconds were left before Hermione took his last name. They'd never actually talked about whether she would take his name; he knew she was rather independent but he'd assumed she'd take it – it was tradition, after all. Although she had told him a few years back that "traditions were made to be broken". So Draco wasn't too sure what was going to happen. He'd get his mother to have a word with Hermione; she seemed to like his mother a lot, so Narcissa might have more luck with her than Draco would himself.

His mother had moved out of the manor after the last war, the one in which everyone was saved. Damn Scar-Head. He had to be the hero! In all honesty Draco was glad Harry had won, though. It meant everyone was finally safe. Well, the Death Eaters weren't, but who cared about them? It had been a struggle to free his mother, as she was found with the Death Eaters, but they'd managed it, and she was finally safe as well. She now lived in a small house. Well, small for her. It had enough bedrooms for any possible grandchildren, and for her son to stay the night before the wedding. She kept throwing out hints that she wanted a grandchild. She was adamant about the fact that she was going to get on, and Draco knew his duty. Damn, his mother was probably trying to persuade Hermione to get pregnant right now!

He reached the house and smiled. Narcissa and Hermione were sitting in the lounge; he could see them through the window. He approached the front door, not wanting to seem like a stalker or anything, and knocked lightly before pushing the door open.

Hermione and Narcissa's heads perked up when they heard the door open, and they both turned expectantly towards Draco. They knew who it was, and it was about time he appeared; they needed his help with the wedding details. Hermione was damned if Draco thought Narcissa and she would be doing all the work. He had jobs to do, and he would do them if Hermione had anything to say about it – and she had a lot to say. Both women smiled as Draco walked into the lounge and sat down next to Hermione, placing his arm around her back.

"How are the plans coming along?" he asked, glancing over at his mother.

"Fine," Narcissa replied, before her eyes narrowed. "I believe, son, that you have some jobs you need to do."

Draco frowned and looked at Hermione, who nodded her agreement. "What jobs?" he asked slowly.

"Draco!" It was Hermione this time. "Are you seriously telling me you've forgotten the jobs we gave you just last week?"

Draco nodded slowly, causing Narcissa to roll her eyes. "He's hopeless," she informed Hermione before turning back to her son. Sometimes she wondered about him. No wonder he'd always been below Hermione, grade-wise. "You were supposed to pick a best man, choose what design you like the most for the invitations – although Hermione gets the final say – you had to help pick the venue, and you had to arrange who was leaving the house the night before and who's staying with you both to help you."

Draco remembered. Damn, he'd forgot all those jobs! But he – being a Slytherin at heart – lied, and quickly. "Oh…oh! Those jobs?" He smiled at his mother. "Blaise is best man, Hermione can pick the design – it is her day, after all. As to the venue, you two know what's best, and I thought you'd prefer to pick that. As long as I marry Hermione I wouldn't care if we had the service in the local sewer."

Hermione and Narcissa looked at each other again and Hermione frowned. "I spoke to Blaise yesterday and he said nothing about you asking him to be best man. In fact, he said he wasn't sure who it was going to be," Hermione told Draco, a small quirk to her eyebrow.

Damn! Draco thought. Stupid Blaise; he always ruined all of Draco's lies and got Draco in trouble.

"He's the best man, I just never told him that part of it," Draco told them with a shrug, making Hermione roll her eyes.

"You must be losing your lying skills in your old age, 'cause we know that was a lie," she told him. Narcissa nodded animatedly in the background.

"Hey! You're older than me!" Draco said, acting as if he was offended by the word "old".

Hermione rolled her eyes again, although there was a slight smile on her lips. Her gaze returned to the papers in front of her and she started to arrange them back into a small file.

"I'm going to shoot off now, Cissy, but I'll come back tomorrow if that's okay?" Hermione asked, standing up and pulling Draco up with her.

"That's fine, dear," Narcissa replied. She picked up the file and placed it on a shelf next to her chair.

Draco walked to his mother and gave her a hug. It was nice seeing her so happy – much happier than when she'd been living with Lucius, anyway. Stepping back to where Hermione stood, he took her hand and smiled goodbye to his mother before leading Hermione out of the house. Hermione removed her hand from Draco's and walked towards her car. She loved driving and their house wasn't that close to Narcissa's. Hermione usually dropped Draco off at work, then came straight to Narcissa's. It was like a routine.

She stepped into her car and waited for Draco to get in. He was still exchanging good-byes with his mother. He finally opened the passenger door and entered the car, and he put his belt on as soon as the door was shut. It wasn't that he didn't trust Hermione's driving, but he knew she was badly prone to road rage, and her driving reflected this fact when anyone angered her. Hermione smiled at him before pulling her own belt around her and clipping it in to the buckle. She started the car and it set off with a soft hum.

The ride home went without a hitch, unless you count Hermione sticking her head out of the window and screaming abuse at drivers who overtook her or pulled out on her. She wasn't usually one to give people abuse, but when she was on the road she got annoyed easily. Draco was glad Muggles had invented seatbelts, because from the number of times Hermione felt it necessary to hit her brakes when someone was right on her tail, Draco was sure he'd have gone flying out the window the first time around. Still and all, Hermione was a good driver when she wanted to be.

They arrived at their home as twilight was setting in. The sun was just setting, and the moon was visible above the horizon. Draco climbed out of the car and opened their front door. The house was dark but warm. Hermione followed him in and flicked on the light. She placed the car keys down, hung her jacket up, kicked off her shoes, and sat down on the sofa, the remote already in her hand. Draco honestly wondered how she did it all so fast. Sure, she was a girl and could apparently multi-task, but that was just a myth, right? Girls couldn't really do five different things at once, could they? Well, he knew they could – it was just unfair. Guys only had enough brain power to do one job at a time, and here were women doing double that in less time as well.

Draco sat down next to Hermione and pulled him against him so she was leaning on his side, with his arm around her. He liked just being able to sit like this; the television was usually just background nose for them. Hermione pressed a button on the remote and the screen was filled with colour. It was an old sitcom, one Draco had never watched but Hermione had seen countless times.

This was their life; it was the same routine day after day, one Hermione hoped would break after they got married. Not that she didn't like spending time with Draco, but they always did the same thing; there was never any element of surprise in their lives. Hermione always knew what they were going to do as soon as they got home. She decided right then and there that she was going to make that change. She was going to make sure they did something different tomorrow night and not keep to the same old stuff. She snuggled farther into Draco's side and closed her eyes, thinking of something to plan that both she and Draco would like. That could prove difficult. They were very different people. Draco – Hermione thought – was happy with their routine, where she was not.

But Hermione thought wrong. Draco wasn't exactly content with the routine either. He wanted to do something for Hermione but he thought she was happy as they were, and he never tried to change it. After all, if she liked it, then he wanted her to be happy. He decided, though, that he would plan something for the weekend. They were on Thursday now and to Draco, Saturday night was the perfect time for their "date", as he was going to call it. Hermione wasn't going to know about any of this; it would be perfect.

He, too, closed his eyes and began to mentally plan everything he wanted to do with her. He really wanted to surprise her. He wasn't sure she wanted to do the same thing every night, over and over again, but he knew he didn't – and he was sure she wouldn't mind him planning something for them. It had to be good, something she'd remember. Sure, they'd been on lots of dates in the past six years; but it was when they'd got engaged that the routines started to set in, and everything went the same way for them.