Hermione sighed as entered her office. Today was going to be horrific, she just knew it.
The feeling of impending doom had started last night, her boyfriend of two years had taken her out for dinner, fancy restaurant, private room and to top it off he was fidgeting.
Her boyfriend did not fidget.
She had thought he was going to propose, she was almost certain he was, but it never came and she found herself gripping her clutch tightly in order to keep her emotions in check. After all it was a lovely evening and it wasn't his fault she had been expecting something more.
On the other hand, how obtuse was he? Okay, so she hadn't started leaving wedding magazines around the house like Ginny had, but she'd mentioned long term plans that obviously included him, they lived together, they had named each other as an emergency contact, and to top it off she was going to be twenty eight soon. He knew she wanted to be married before thirty.
She'd been in two minds about the entire ordeal since it had happened, and a feeling of dread had developed in her stomach, growing steadily.
Sitting at her desk she spelled a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on her door and placed her head on her desk.
None of it mattered really, not the hints, or the dinner, she just… Merlin did she love that man!
If someone were to have asked her before that first date if she thought it was going to go anywhere she would have smiled, probably a little condescendingly, and promptly ignored them. It was the only thing to which, she was perfectly willing to admit, he had known better.
He fingered the black velvet box in utter frustration.
Six months.
He'd been intending to propose for six bloody months, he'd had the ring for eight and he was still nowhere near being able to do it.
It was all her fault. Few things genuinely scared him after the war, but that bloody woman terrified him out of his wits. He knew she was too good for him, he'd gone out on a limb even asking her out, but somehow that first date, and every moment since then, had been… right.
Every now and then she'd mention some long term goal and include him in the plans and he just knew she wanted this too, but then he'd have the plans set out, they'd get there and he couldn't make the right noises come out.
How hard could it be?
He says 'will you marry me?' she says 'yes', they get married after six months, four months, Salazar, he'd carry her down the aisle the moment she said yes if he could.
Moving the box aside he stared at the parchment he'd laid out this morning. Scratchy illustrated branches covered the surface, names and dates sprouting off here and there. He'd been utterly astounded when he'd found the enchanted parchment in an old forgotten study.
A self-updating, unabridged version of the Malfoy family tree, he'd only ever seen versions made for the public eye. But this, this had everyone, squibs, supposed blood traitors, children born out of wedlock and who their mothers were, it even counted still-born babies and foetal deaths.
He'd been a little disappointed to discover that he was still the only Malfoy left but he was hoping to make some additions, primarily Hermione, as his wife.
Staring morosely at his name he frowned, slowly in a grey ink, a vine reached out from his branch, grew a leaf and stopped. Moving forward in his seat he studied the vine intently, then very finely in a swirly script, Hermione Granger, was scrawled underneath the vine, and under her name in brackets was the word conceived.
Conceived? Hermione was conceived on his family tree? No. No. He and Hermione had conceived.
He'd been so annoyed with himself last night that, that morning he had tried to make it up to her as they made love.
And now she was pregnant.
He was going to be a dad.
They had conceived.
A wide grin had covered his face and he was basically vibrating with excitement.
They were going to do it, they were going to get married and have a baby. Get married… No.
The colour drained from his face and he collapsed into his seat. She wasn't going to marry him, if she found out about the baby, if she knew he knew, she'd think he was only going to marry her because she was pregnant.
No matter how much he tried to convince her, she'd think he only wanted to marry her for the baby.
"Fuck." Draco groaned into his hands.
Hermione groaned and stretched her neck, wincing when it cracked loudly. Finally, after two months and a handful of visits to a groupling of trolls, she had finally finished the inquiry her boss insisted was 'urgent'.
Standing up she put her hands up and stretched from side it side, enjoying the tight feeling it produced. The floo burst to life and out stepped the source of her inner-turmoil.
"Hello." Hermione said simply, wondering what he was doing here.
"Marry me." Draco stated flatly.
Hermione's brows rose significantly and she finally looked him over. His robes were slightly tousled, his hair was more than a little rumpled and after a moment of silence she discovered why.
He shoved his hand into his hair and started pacing. "I've been trying to say that, well not exactly that but I've been trying to ask, for months and every single time I plan it, I think 'this is it' and then I see you and all the words evacuate my head faster than a meerkat in a hippogriff stampede."
"Oh." Is all she can come up with, and as if he just realised she was in the room he turned to her.
Stepping forward, he got down onto his knee in front of her. "I know this isn't how you imagined it, Salazar, it's not how anyone imagines it, but… I love you. The idea of spending another moment without you knowing that I want to spend the rest of my life with you is unbearable, so I'm sorry for the lack of tact and planning but, will you marry me?"
Taking the unopened box from his hand she launched into his arms.
"Yes! I, just… YES!"
Apparently doom wasn't on her list of things to do today.