A/N: Wow... this is beyond late. Try like, two/three months late! I forgot I wrote this, so I thought I might as well post it up here. Enjoy!
On the first day of Christmas my baby gave to me quality T-I-M-E.
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The young woman (22 now, slim, tall, impossibly more beautiful with her curly mass of chestnut brown locks) was entangled in her soft cashmere sheets, her husbands legs intertwined with hers, his arm slung around her waist protectively.
It was Christmas morning, and in this cozy bedroom, it wasn't just the newly-married couple that resided in the warm bed. Inside of Hermione's tummy was TJ, their first child.
Draco's eyes opened slowly, his view blocked by his wife's chestnut locks, and he inhaled her wondrous aroma of strawberries and peppermint. He disentangled their legs gently, so as to not wake her, and sat up on his side of the bed. He ruffled his blonde hair, stood up, and stomped into the bedroom's bathroom in just a pair of boxers decorated with candy canes, thanks to Hermione.
The fire crackled quietly in their bedroom, and the snow was falling against the window, gathering on the ledge in little clumps of fluffy goodness. Draco turned on the hot water in the marble bathroom, walking out of the room to give it a minute to warm up. He turned the television on in the bedroom and turned the volume down so it was just a hum, a Christmas movie had just begun.
Draco walked back into the bathroom and closed the door, turning the cold water on in the shower and stepping into it, sighing with contentment as the hot water massaged his knotted muscles.
He loved Christmas, it was his favorite time of the year. The fact that his unborn son was due on Christmas was exciting, as well. Their healer had told them to be very careful today, as Hermione looked like she was about ready to burst.
Draco rested his head on the warm wall (thanks to the heater that had been put under the walls and floor) and closed his eyes, letting the water run over him.
When the water started to turn cold, he turned the shower off, shaking his hair as he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel that he had conjured around his waist as he did so.
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He walked into the bedroom to find Hermione sitting up, her eyes as wide as an owl, an imprint of the pattern that adorned her velour pillows implanted on her cheek.
He slid onto the bed next to her and wrapped her up in his embrace, kissing her forehead lightly.
"Goodmorning, love." He whispered, nuzzling her neck softly. "Merry Christmas," he smirked against her porcelain skin "then again, I hear pushing out a screaming baby isn't as fun as it sounds." He chuckled, and Hermione sighed.
"I just woke up, enough of the jokes." She leaned against him, snuggling into his warm embrace.
"Sleep well?" She murmured, kissing the side of his cheek.
"Why yes, I did, but there is room for improvement." A little morning sex wouldn't hurt the baby... he hoped. He wiggled his eyebrows, pulling her closer to him as he laid her down on the bed. He planted butterfly kisses across her face, nibbling softly in places that he knew would drive her insane, as his hands roamed her body.
"I love you, I love you, I love you."