Author's Note - Would like to take time out to say a special thank my beta reader: Dirt-is-Yummy.

Warning - All will be explained and dished out in time, I like to get straight to the point, but explain things along the way, not all at once.

If No One Will Listen

If no one will listen
If you decide to speak
If no one is left
Standing after the bombs explode
If no one wants to look at you
For what you really are
I will be here still

By Kelly Clarkson

Prologue

Hermione Snape-Malfoy woke up on the first of September in the arms of her husband of nearly two long and painful months, they had married in June. It surprised her every morning to find his arms wrapped protectively around her. At the beginning they would sleep as far away from each other as possible. It was only towards the end of last month that they had started doing this. The first time they had woken up like this was the first time they had had sex since their honeymoon. The wedding had been private, a Malfoy and Snape invite-only affair. She still could not get her head around the fact that she'd lost her innocence to the man beside her.

Hermione stayed still, like she did every morning, waiting for her husband to wake first. To say the least she was not looking forward to going back to Hogwarts married to the arch enemy of her two best friends. That's if they remained her friends after they found out that she was not just married to the person they'd hated and rivaled the last six years but also who her father was. A man they'd hated since day one. Yes, Hermione was adopted, she turned out to be a Snape and to have a twin brother named Nicko, with whom she had a strange connection.

Finally, Hermione felt him stretch against her but did not say anything. This was often the case; they did not speak when they woke up. Depending on what mood he was in, they'd most likely stay in bed for another half hour or so. Hermione was surprised at how lazy the Slytherin Prince was. She didn't like it because his habit was starting to pass on to her and she'd always been a morning person. So she was surprised this morning when he greeted her with a good morning only ten minutes later, which she returned.

She felt his lips against her neck as he moved her straight hair out of his way. She was most certainly awake now, her body on full alert, knowing full well where this would start and end. He'd used this tactic several times before. He'd kiss her neck, her jaw line, her lips and make his way down to her breasts and so on.

His lips made their way along her jaw line placing butterfly kisses and nips in places that made her squirm. Yes, she was most certainly wide awake now.

Draco enjoyed doing this and having this hold over the Gryffindor Princess. Yes, he thought, unfortunately she belongs in Gryffindor as her mother, Snape's wife, was a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor who was fortunately not Potter's mum, thank Merlin, he thought. She was another Gryffindor in their year back then named Isabella Lillian. According to Snape, his daughter was the spitting image of her mother except his daughter has his eyes and he thanked Merlin neither of his children ended up with his nose. They took mostly after their mother who was killed by members of the Order who had gotten it wrong. This was why Snape was more on Voldemort's side than the Order's although his loyalties were always to Dumbledore and still are.

Draco reached his wife's lips and met her eyes as he kissed her in a scorching kiss. Her arms went around his neck, her hands tangling themselves in his hair. They had a love hate relationship. He enjoyed winding her up and he liked it for some reason when she was angry, it was rather amusing. He had known before that his wife had a temper on her, like the time she'd thumped him in third year. He'd also witnessed her scolding Potter and Weasley which was also amusing.

He could not wait for today to begin, he'd been looking forward to this day all summer, since he found out he was betrothed to Snape's long, lost daughter. The daughter who happened to be the Gryffindor, muggleborn Princess, now half-blood, like her father and twin brother, who, if he were being honest, he did not get on well with. He could not wait to be back at Hogwarts or even on the train, to see Potter and Weasley's reactions when they saw his wife, her new status and that she belonged to him. He couldn't wait to rub it in their faces.

He moved so he was fully on top of her and broke the kiss, kissing down the edge of her jaw, neck, collar bone, kissing, nipping, letting his hands explore her body. To him she was perfect, though he would never admit it. Malfoy men do not show emotion, he told himself, not even to their wives. They may be possessive, protective and controlling of what is theirs in some ways but it was their way of showing them they cared. Besides, they did not like to share.

Draco took his wife's breast to his mouth, causing her to arch up into him. His other hand was busy with the other breast, massaging it, whilst he worked on this one. He nipped, licked, sucked and then switched breasts, enjoying the rewarding noises coming from his wife.

"Draco, quit playing," his wife practically begged him. He was making his way down to her sex area, kissing and nipping her flat stomach. He smirked against her skin and slowly made his way back up. She was not one to be played with. She hated it, but he loved to torture her, to tease her until she begged him to stop.

"Why, Mrs. Malfoy?" He asked her slyly as he made his way up. She groaned in annoyance.

"Because I want you to fuck me not play with me," she said bluntly, he new she said it through clenched teeth. His smirk widened.

"My pleasure dear," he said almost smugly.

He reached her, locked eyes with her and saw her flushed face. He pressed his lips to hers again, her arms still around his neck and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he positioned himself at her entrance. With one thrust he entered her fully, she fit him perfectly. She broke the kiss, gasping, her head falling backwards onto the soft pillows. His lips moved to her neck. Draco gritted his teeth, she was perfect. He waited for a while to let her get used to his size and waited for her to tell him she was ready for him to move.

Draco moved his arms around the top of her head, caving her in. He felt her grind her hips into his, causing him to groan. He took it as a sign that she was ready for him to move. He slowly slipped out of her halfway and then back in, setting a gentle pace at first, with her meeting his thrusts. He started to fully leave her and thrust back in. Draco could feel she was about to come, as her walls started to tighten around him.

"Wait for me," he ordered.

"I-I c-can't," she whispered, in a dazed voice.

"Hold," he ordered again, he wanted to come down with her. He picked up his pace. Throughout the room all you could hear was the sound of skin against skin and their ragged breathing.

Draco could feel the familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach start and he thrust into her harder. He knew he was close to coming.

"Now," he growled out after a few more minutes. They both came together in a tidal wave of pleasure. Draco bit down on her neck to stop himself from screaming like his wife. She screamed and moaned his name in pleasure.

A little while later after they'd finished and she'd finished drinking him in and milking him dry, he slipped out exhausted and pulled his wife into his arms. They fell asleep again.

Draco was woken up some time later by someone shaking him awake. He groaned and told them to go away. They wouldn't so he opened his eyes reluctantly to bright sunlight and his frantic, worried-looking wife glaring at him.

"Finally! Get up, we are running late," she hissed at him.

"What's the time?" He grumbled. He was still very relaxed from their love making this morning and couldn't be bothered to move.

"Ten-thirty, we are supposed to meet my father and Nicko at the Leaky Cauldron now," she snapped, "this is your fault," she added.

"How's this my fault?" He said incredulously, getting up.

"If we didn't have sex this morning we would be their by now, now we are late," she said, as if he should have known that already. He scowled at her and got up.

He washed and dressed magically whilst his wife looked at him annoyed. She did not like it when he used magic for everything, even for the simplest things.

He wore his usual black suit, black was a colour he liked to wear because it looked smart and it was something he'd always worn. He was pleased to see his wife looking smart too in black skinny muggle jeans, a white, collared t-shirt and a black fitted jacket. She also wore black healed shoes that his mother had taught her to wear over the summer. She also had a black, stylish muggle handbag that she'd placed their shrunken trunks into. She'd used an enlargement charm to make the inside of the bag bigger to fit all the things they'd be taking so they did not have to carry anything much. She was waiting for him at the fire place.

She was shifting impatiently waiting for him. He walked over to where she was standing and picked his wand up from the mantle piece. He pointed it at the empty grate and a fire was lit. He picked the Floo powder up from a pot on the mantle piece and threw it onto the flames, turning them green. He grabbed a hold of her hand and said clearly, "Leaky Cauldron, London." He pulled them through and into the busy pub.

Let the day begin.