Hello again! *waves* This isn't the multi-chapter story I've been working on but an extremely long one-shot I've had on the back burner. Until this past week it was only seven pages of random bits. An odd form of inspiration struck and it clocked in at 27 pages. I know the marriage law trope is old but I'm kind of still fascinated with the different ways of going about it. This is less so about the technicalities of a marriage law and more so about our favorite characters developing a relationship. Choose to read on and you'll see.
As always, these characters aren't mine. I'm just a fan with a large imagination. I hope you'll read and review. Now buckle up for a long read and enjoy the ride!
Edit: It's clearly late when I posted this so there may be an error here or there, despite that I've gone over it numerous times. If you catch one, feel free to PM me but please don't make a review just to point out errors. I'm only human. Thanks!
Hermione
"Hermione," he moaned near her ear.
He always said her name during sex. Always said it in a way that made her stomach clench and her toes curl. It always came out somewhere between a moan and a growl.
She had her head turned to the side, pressing into the luxurious pillows under it while his lips trailed along her ear hotly. His right hand grazed her thigh as he hitched her leg higher over his hips, his other arm holding him shakily as he continued to roll his hips in hypnotic thrusts allowing him to hit that perfect spot inside her.
She couldn't stop her moans and grunts as her body shifted under him with every thrust. He was rough but gentle all at once and the sensation made her head spin.
She couldn't think straight when they made love. Could hardly manage verbal responses besides yes, faster, more, and his name. He loved the fact that he drove the normally articulate witch nearly incoherent. But he loved it when she said his name the most.
She knew by the way he kissed her. The hot, languid kisses that sent her heart racing and her body humming.
"Uhh," she grunted after a particularly good thrust and dug her nails into his shoulders, "Draco…so close…"
He wasn't a cruel man, despite his reputation at work, and released his hold on her thigh to move between their bodies.
One final thrust and he sent them both over the edge together. That all-consuming warmth flooded her body and she released one final moan before sighing as she melted into the bed.
He remained on top of her, his forehead pressed to hers as they lay panting. His lips sought her mouth for their post-lovemaking kiss. He kissed her slowly for a few moments before he released her mouth and rolled off her to rest at her side.
Hermione had to wait only for a few moments before he rolled over and nudged her to her side. He scooted until his chest was pressed firmly to her back and held her snugly. It was a substitute to their usual position. He preferred pulling her on top of him to rest on his chest after sex but her stomach was now in the way.
A slow, contented smile curved her lips as her eyes began to drift closed. It was amazing that this is where they were a year after she'd signed the marriage contract. She'd never have imagined it would be possible to fall in love with Draco Malfoy.
"I love you" was the last thing she heard before sleep took her.
One Year Prior
"Are you daft, Malfoy? Quit messing around and vacate my office. I have work to do."
Draco snarled and stepped in further, casting a muffliato on the room. "I have it on good authority that the Ministry is strongly considering a marriage law, Granger."
"I work in the Ministry," Hermione gestured around her office, "in case you haven't noticed. Don't you think I'd have heard of this before you?"
He shrugged and helped himself to a chair opposite her desk. "You have to speak with the right people on a daily basis. And while you may write laws, you don't defend them. Lawyers gossip."
"Slytherin," she snorted under her breath.
"Guilty," he smirked. "My mother has been trying to marry me off to the other Greengrass sister and frankly, I'd rather marry a Hufflepuff. But imagine my luck when there's still you."
She fought the urge to scoff. The man was mental if he thought she'd believe that.
"Do you mean to say you'd rather marry me than one of your own? Not afraid of my blood status, Malfoy?"
"This isn't about blood anymore, Granger," he sneered. "This is about breeding. If I'm to be forced by anyone into marriage I want the right stock for my offspring."
"Explain," she ordered, her lips drawn into a thin line. "And be mindful that viewing me as a broodmare isn't the best way to convince me."
"Neither of us are stupid, Granger. As much as I at one time loathed you for it, you're the most bloody brilliant witch in all of Britain. I won't have offspring like that of some of my other idiotic friends. Besides, imagine what merging Gryffindor and Slytherin traits would look like," he smirked. "The best of both worlds."
"That almost sounds like you're complimenting me, Malfoy. Do be careful lest I become too shocked to comprehend."
He rolled his grey eyes and extracted a pristine grey envelope from his waistcoat and placed it on the edge of her desk. "Think about it, Granger. I have a lot to offer. My name may not hold the force it once did but I still have clout in terms of money. Plus, while many may not like me personally, I'm quite successful in my law firm. I can influence support for your laws and help you get things done in this fucking place. If it does come to a law and they allow us to choose before they choose for us, all of your bleeding friends are already married. Plus, I hear Cormac McLaggen is still keen on you. What will you do?"
He lifted his brow suggestively and offered her a regal bow of his head after he stood. With that, he exited her office as swiftly as he'd entered.
Hermione resisted the urge to chuck her paperweight at his stupid head and instead waited until he was out of sight to reach for the envelope.
She snorted at the contents. A bloody list of all the ways a marriage to him would be advantageous to her.
He must be mental.
~o~O~o~
Harry grimaced as he read the internal memo with Ron looking over his shoulder and Hermione pacing the length of the aurors' office. He reached up to push his glasses up hesitantly.
"Well, I don't know who his sources are because even I didn't know about this but Malfoy's not mental. They really are passing a marriage law, Hermione."
"She can't marry Malfoy, Harry," Ron protested as he came to rest on the edge of his desk, both watching as the witch continued her angry pacing. His lips curled as he crossed his arms over his chest and he shivered. "She'd have to…procreate with him."
Hermione stopped and glared at him for the reminder and continued her pacing. "Better than some others I can think of," she grumbled.
Ron exchanged a questioning look with Harry and shrugged. "Like who? McLaggen? You'd rather Malfoy over him?" His eyebrows lifted nearly to his hairline at the look she gave him. "Okay, clearly McLaggen is out. What about Neville? He's not settled down yet."
"He's been seeing Hannah Abbott for a year now," Harry offered quietly.
"Right…" Ron sighed.
He couldn't think of many people who could honestly tolerate Hermione. Not in a negative sense. It wasn't that she was horrible. But not many men could keep up with her. She was quite intimidating. Too smart, too successful, too attractive…too everything really. It wasn't her fault but she clearly suffered the repercussions of other's inadequacies.
Hermione slumped down into the chair opposite Harry's desk and moaned horribly to herself. "I can't think of anyone either." She scowled as she stared at the memo on the desk. "Malfoy's just so…"
"Malfoy," Ron grinned lopsidedly.
She rolled her eyes, "Essentially, yes."
"He's successful," Harry pointed out. "And you wouldn't have to dumb down to him."
"And maybe he's not quite the git he used to be," Ron admitted, albeit grudgingly. "Not like his friends still are."
Harry nodded. "Nott is a right tosser. Zabini's alright though."
"Still," Ron grimaced, "and I can't believe I'm actually saying this but Malfoy's the best choice. If you don't want to spend the rest of your life trying not to strangle someone for lack of brain cells. He's the only one I can see you at least growing to respect."
She sighed heavily and nodded. "I need a bloody drink."
~o~O~o~
"You're about to become a very rich woman, Granger."
Hermione closed her eyes with a resigned sigh. "I'm not doing this for your money, Malfoy."
Draco shrugged casually and turned to glance out the window of his office. "It comes with the surname." He turned back to face the girl—now woman—he'd spent the better part of their adolescence tormenting. "You will be expected to take my name of course."
She lifted a challenging eyebrow and huffed. "I'll agree to hyphenate and that's all."
"Now, now—"
"That's. All," she ground out through gritted teeth. "Don't forget that this agreement benefits you more than me."
She could allow the Ministry to ultimately match her and deal with the consequences. He on the other hand would likely receive the rather short end of the stick were he to go through with his mother's match or worse if the Ministry matched him. Plus, her name held more positive influence than his.
His expression darkened at the reminder of the fact that he was still considered essentially crooked wizarding trash by some, despite his successes in wizarding law—defending many of the damn laws that Hermione Granger herself had written.
"Trust me. I can hardly forget."
With an angry huff, he returned to his desk and motioned for her to take a seat in front of it. He pulled a contract from the folder in the center of his desk and placed it in front of her.
"These are the agreed upon terms. Read it over and sign it."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but did as he'd said. Her brown eyes scanned the lines of the paper, snorting occasionally at the ridiculous things he'd outlined in the contract for their farce of a marriage.
It was mostly benign in nature. Attend social events with him, be polite to his mother, not hex him in his sleep, etc. In exchange, he would fund any of her fundraisers at work and do his best to be polite to her friends.
One particular point caused her serious concern and she looked up with wide eyes to find him picking at his nails as though he was bored.
"You can't seriously expect me to sleep with you outside of trying to conceive the one mandated child! I can't even believe you'd want to sleep with me, given my dirty blood. I figured you'd get your needs taken care of elsewhere."
Though the idea honestly didn't excite her. What woman wanted the man she was married to, even if only on paper, to be sowing his wild oats elsewhere? It was mortifying.
A pale eyebrow ticked up a notch on his forehead at the accusation. "Now, Granger, I've not held those beliefs about you in years. With my father gone, I hardly think it matters. And in regards to the points on intercourse, the men in my family do not cheat. You can't seriously expect me to have a wife and not shag her regularly?"
Hermione watched as his hard eyes dipped from her face to assess her and she crossed her arms over her chest involuntarily, wishing she'd worn anything other than her favorite dress to work that morning. It dipped a little too low.
"Besides, you're not hard on the eyes. I imagine it will be easy to get it up for you."
She scowled at the look he was giving her, his eyes having returned to her face. "And if I don't want to sleep with you?"
He blanched at such an idea. "Well, I'm certainly not going to force myself on you if that's what you're thinking. Surely, we can come to some sort of agreement."
She considered denying him entirely and getting up to leave but knowing what the benefits this match would provide her with in terms of protection for her job and the connections it would open in regards to having her laws supported, she stayed seated. That and her lack of viable options that she could stomach on a daily basis without wanting to maim for their lame personalities. At least he could hold a conversation when pressed.
But could she really sleep with him regularly?
She eyed him discreetly from his broad shoulders, his short cropped hair he kept brushed back from his face, and his hard grey eyes waiting for her to respond.
"Fine. But how often?"
"How often?"
She snorted rather indignantly. "How often am I expected to fuck you, you prat!"
He nearly lost his composure at her colorful outburst but kept himself in check. He didn't want to admit how amusing he found her. How attractive he found her cursing when she was normally the most polite sort of witch. So composed and intelligent one moment and then raw and fiery the next.
"Fuck is a rather crude word choice, don't you think? I'd prefer 'make love to'."
"I don't love you," she reminded him with a stubborn frown.
He shrugged. "Semantics. I'm not a maniac and I'm open to negotiating. Could you stomach me at least…four times a week?"
Her eyes widened considerably. She'd only been with one man before in her life and she'd never had sex so often in one week. Truly, she could count on both hands the number of times they'd done it throughout their entire relationship.
Of course, when she found out he'd been cheating on her with an ex it made sense as he was getting his rocks off elsewhere.
She took a long look at the man sitting across from her. Despite their turbulent past, she'd be stupid to say he wasn't attractive. He was tall. Much taller than her and she'd always had a thing for tall men.
A secret, tiny part of herself wondered what sex with him was going to be like. Would he be rough and firm like his dominating personality or would he have a softer side that she could coax out of him? Maybe even a combination of the two?
Would he allow her any control even? She'd always enjoyed when a man was man enough to allow her to take some control in a relationship but she feared he wasn't the type to let his wife lead. The feminist in her cringed.
"Yes, fine. But I'm not doing anything I'm not comfortable with."
He narrowed his eyes at her and tipped his head curiously. "Such as?" What provocative ideas were swirling in that pretty mind of hers?
Her cheeks colored slightly and she averted her eyes to the nameplate on his desk. "Any…weird stuff. You know, odd positions, weird bedrooms games..."
His eyes widened in distaste. "Merlin, Granger, I'm not a freak. I just want sex with my wife." He shrugged and softened his expression slightly. "If you must know, I find you attractive and the idea of being married to you and not being able to touch is rather infuriating. Happy now?"
She swallowed nervously and nodded. "Yes," she answered quietly.
Though it would take some time to come to grips with the fact that Draco Malfoy found her attractive after all the years of taunting her appearance in school. The soft expression that was there but gone nearly as fast showed that maybe she might have a chance at taming him some.
There was one other thing that concerned her with the contract he'd drawn up. She chewed her lower lip for a moment before finally making eye contact again to find him watching her curiously and ducked her eyes back to the parchment.
He eyed the witch as she sat opposite him, gnawing her lower lip anxiously as her eyes followed the lines of text on their agreement. "I'm not a tyrant, Granger. We can make this marriage mutually beneficial to the both of us if you'll just trust me a little."
"A bit hard to trust you with our history, Malfoy," she reminded him cautiously. She fell silent again as another thought crossed her mind. "My parents."
He shrugged. "What about them?"
"I don't want them to know we're…they'd be disappointed if they knew—"
"If you want them to believe we're in love then I'll play the part in their presence. No need to make this more complicated than it has to be."
"You'd do that?"
He shrugged, "Small means to an end that best suits me."
She scoffed at that, "Slytherin."
A sly grin transformed his features, "As always, guilty."
After she signed the contract with a flourish of his quill, he slid an elegant black box across the desk towards her.
The engagement ring he'd selected was larger than anything she'd have ever picked out and he had the nerve to call it small, claiming he didn't think she'd wear anything larger.
She snorted but agreed.
When she left his office, she was wearing his ring and an all new sense of nerves jumbling in her stomach.
~o~O~o~
Two months flew by before she knew it. Convincing her parents had gone surprisingly easier than she'd originally imagined. Somehow he'd managed to invoke their sympathy when she said her reasoning was that she didn't want them to judge him by their mutual past. Granted, the way he'd kissed her upon meeting them for lunch that day had earned him a rather hard punch to the arm afterwards. She didn't particularly like the idea of her parents seeing the blonde obviously dip his tongue in her mouth, even if he did claim to be discreet.
She'd been most worried about his mother though. Yet strangely her worries had been in vain. While not explicitly warm, Narcissa Malfoy had been kind and understanding in her son's choice for a wife. She'd merely nodded in agreement when he told her honestly that he'd be daft to marry any of the pureblood witches still left single before the law took over. He favored intellect over pedigree. And in an ironic turn of ideology, claimed that intellect should be the highest criteria for pedigree.
Thus, Hermione was the only option when he presented it that way. The only acceptable witch and Narcissa had readily agreed.
Draco conceded to her desire for a small, private wedding. He even went so far as to fight his mother off from taking over the planning. Instead, the witch settled for manhandling the menu for the intimate affair from her and her mother. Her parents, his mother, the Potters, Weasleys, and a handful of both their friends were present for the short ceremony.
He showed his generosity the first time in offering his vaults to pay for whatever fairytale dress she wanted. He was thoroughly surprised and mildly put out when she insisted that she preferred a simple, white dress with few adornments. She just wasn't the type for gaudy adornments. Simple and classic suited her just fine. Besides, he'd not appeared too disappointed when he saw her in it finally. Those grey eyes had followed every line and curve of her body as they said their vows.
They'd shared a chaste kiss, danced the one dance Ginny insisted upon, and had dinner and cake. It was all rather…normal, all things considered.
"He's taking you where," Ginny screeched as she watched Hermione change out of her dress and pack her bag for the short honeymoon he insisted upon.
She rolled her eyes as she shimmied into a worn pair of jeans. If he didn't like her casual clothes he could just shove the broomstick back up his ass for all she cared. Her nerves over having to consummate the marriage were beginning to gnaw at her.
"Paris," she huffed. "Though he made a point to tell me I shouldn't expect to see much of the city."
Ginny smirked wickedly at that. "You have the perfect opportunity to shag the prat's brains out and wrap him around your finger, Hermione."
"Oh please," she snorted rather inelegantly. "Don't be silly. There's no way Draco Malfoy would ever allow himself to be wrapped around anyone's finger, Ginny."
"Depends on whose finger," Draco drawled from the doorway.
Hermione whirled around and found him leaning against the doorframe of her old bedroom. Dressed in black trousers that must have been casual for him and a grey jumper that looked as though is cost a week's worth of her salary, he was smirking far more confidently than anyone had a right to do.
She noticed the way he eyed her from head to toe, not remarking on her jeans or the comfortable cardigan that fell past her waist over her t-shirt. He merely shrugged and glanced around her room.
It was mostly in boxes and he'd arranged for the wizarding movers to have everything moved into their new house while they were gone. She fought a smirk when she thought about the muggle neighborhood she'd twisted his arm into agreeing to.
"Well, I'm gone then," Ginny smiled. She hugged her, whispering orders to shag him into submission before she departed via the floo.
Draco snapped his fingers and her luggage disappeared.
Hermione merely rolled her eyes and met him at the door. She huffed when he patted his arm expectantly and smirked when she hooked hers through it.
"Let's get on with it then," she muttered.
"I'm hurt, Granger," he spoke, plastering a false pained expression on his face.
"Granger-Malfoy," she corrected indignantly.
"I stand corrected," he smirked.
"Considering that you made such a big deal out of it, I'd say so."
"Hmm, well then allow us to finish the process of making this union legal."
She swallowed hard as she followed him into the floo and he spoke the name of their hotel.
The room was every inch the pompous luxury she expected of him. The bath was the size of a small pool, the shower large enough that she could lie down in it. Then there was the bed. Far too large to be reasonable but at least she could sleep away from him after the deed was done. The sheets felt like crème when she sat on the edge of the bed cautiously while he removed his watch and wallet on the nearby vanity.
She inhaled a deep breath and pushed it out through her nose. "Well, let's get on with it then. The sooner it's done, the sooner I can forget what I've sold myself into."
Draco turned to her slowly, a pale eyebrow ticked high on his forehead as he assessed her. "Don't sound too eager, love," he snarled.
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh yes, because I'm so looking forward to sleeping with the man who's sampled more than his fair share of the witches in wizarding Britain."
Draco's scowl eased and he gazed at her curiously. They'd not done much talking in terms of getting to know one another over the last two months. Most interactions had been about the business of getting married and less so about the people involved.
"You shouldn't believe everything you read, Hermione. I've been with three women my entire life. But I don't have any way of proving that to you so you can choose to believe me or the ruddy papers," he shrugged indifferently.
Hermione deflated a little under his gaze. Truly, he'd been fairly reasonable throughout the whole thing. He'd given her whatever she wanted for the most part and asked for very little after they'd sorted and signed the terms of their contract.
"I'm sorry. You're right. I'm just nervous. I've never—"
He interrupted her, "You've never had sex before?"
Draco observed the flush of her cheeks, quickly working its way down her neck as well. Surely not. Whatever idiotic things he'd said about her appearance as a child, this witch was not the least unattractive. The only reason he could guess that she'd still been single when the Ministry cropped this whole mess up was that she was too much like him—unwilling to settle for a lacking personality and mind in place of good looks.
Lucky for him, she had both.
Hermione bit her lip hesitantly, "No, I have but only with one person. I never enjoyed the act much."
She hated the pitying look he was now giving her and nearly flinched when he approached her again. He could be so dark and moody sometimes during their meetings but others he was completely kind, if not just a little detached. It was a stark contrast and she'd yet to completely figure him out.
Her heart was hammering in her chest when he slowly sank to his knees on the plush carpet, kneeling before her as she sat perched on the end of the bed. Her knees burned through her jeans when he placed his large hands on either of them and squeezed gently. His hands smoothed their way to her hips where he squeezed again as he leaned forward, his breath now ghosting across her ear.
"Well, we'll just have to fix that then," he spoke in a rough whisper, dark promises entwined. "I can't change the past for you but I can promise you nothing but ecstasy in our bed, Hermione."
A shiver worked down her spine from the base of her neck as he pulled back slowly. That was the first time he'd made an effort to use her given name.
His grey eyes were molten as they met hers. They watched each other for a few moments that felt as though they stretched into an eternity before his eyes lowered to her mouth.
One of his hands moved from her hip to cup the back of her neck as he pressed his mouth to hers firmly. It was only the third time they'd kissed, the second only being the chaste peck he'd given her in front of the official who'd married them. This was much more than that.
Draco pulled back a hairsbreadth and immediately missed the softness of her lips. He dove in again with a bit more force, her head angling back as he began to lean further over her. She was hesitant at first, he noted, but after some gentle coaxing she seemed to forget the circumstances of their being together in a foreign hotel room with new rings adoring both their left hands.
Whatever he'd said about this witch in the past was forgotten as far as he was concerned. There was nothing but this woman in front of him, returning his kiss with gentle but increasingly warmer interest as the seconds ticked past.
Hands itching to touch him and know how he'd feel under her skin, she reached up hesitantly and framed his face with both. His resounding groan and the way he moved from his knees to hover over her, slowly leaning her back against the bed assured her that he didn't mind her touch. Her fingers slid forward and into the short, cropped hair at the nape of his neck as Draco now leaned over her, lean but large body almost completely covering hers.
Hermione barely noticed when his fingers inched their way along her waist and began pushing her shirt up and out of the way as the pads of his fingers caressed her skin. Streaks of fire illuminated their path as they moved up…up…and up.
He didn't protest when she boldly reached for his jumper, tugging at it urgently until he tore his lips from hers with a groan and nearly ripped it from his body with the force he pulled it off.
Draco's mouth was back on her like fire as he slipped an arm under her back and pulled her further up the bed as he settled himself over her. He nudged gently at her knees until she allowed him to settle between them.
He left her lips to mouth his way across her jaw and toward her neck. He was interrupted however when he felt her small hands on his chest, pushing until he gave some space again.
He panted as he hovered over her, eyes following the sight of her blushing cheeks and swollen lips. He caught the wary look in her eyes and reached up to brush some unruly curls off her neck.
"What is it," he asked, doing his best to inject as much gentleness into his voice as possible. It was hard to shut off his mind that kept telling him to get on with it. He'd never wanted a woman so badly in his life and here she was under him, shy and so unlike her normal domineering personality as she eyed him carefully.
"I know," she started slowly, "that you're not the type to make promises out of the goodness of your heart but…promise me you'll go slowly. It's been a while for me."
Was that it? Not that it was him that she was about to consummate a marriage with but because it had been a while?
Draco cupped her cheek in one hand, surprising her again with his gentle touch. The thumb stroking her cheek made a new sensation, a small curl of desire, quake inside her.
He dipped his head in a nod, unable to speak really.
He slowed his movements after that, settled against her gently as he took her mouth in another kiss again.
Hermione sighed when he brought his lips back to hers. The gentle pulling and tugging, the wet caress of his tongue, driving her senses wild.
She'd wondered for a while how she'd ever be able to do this with him. They'd hated each other for so long, crafted their insults and sneers with such careful practice that they knew each other like their own wands. Yet here was the boy…man…now pressing his warm body to hers in such fervent need that she'd lost herself in him.
His lips were drugging, his hands a balm to her need, and now his hips pressing to her and rolling oh so slowly that sent her eyes rolling back behind their lids. She turned her head from him, breaking their kiss, when he began the gentle rolling of their hips as the licks of desire began to inch into her belly.
Draco's chest clenched when she tore her mouth from his and released a breathy moan he was certain she was unaware of releasing. That sound so soft and yet guttural sprung more life into his desire for her.
He'd not been lying when he said he found her attractive. Even the less desirable aspects of her personality, which he'd honestly been less and less concerned with the more he got to know her better, became more attractive as time went on.
Keeping his gentle, slow rhythm he reached for the hem of her shirt and was pleased when she arched her back and allowed him to pull the thing off. He paused his movements though when he found her below him, clad only in her bra and jeans, her skin flushed from waist to hairline.
"Bloody gorgeous," Hermione heard him mutter as he returned his mouth to her neck.
Her heart hammered in her chest at those words. Despite his assurance over their meeting some two months prior that he found her attractive, the reality of the claim had yet to sink in until now.
The man was practically dry humping her and not the least bit embarrassed by it.
"Draco," she breathed.
"Hmm?" He couldn't stop his mouth from kissing the sweet skin of her neck and collarbone.
"You can…" She paused and arched when his arm pushed under her back to pull her closer, "You can keep going. I'm ready."
Draco had never been so thrilled to hear such a declaration and wasted no time in ridding them of the rest of their clothes. She blushed and averted her eyes at first when his eyes roved over her body once it was bared to him. But he didn't give her much time to dwell on it before he was kissing her again.
She was aware of the gentle nudging between her legs and arched against him despite her nerves when he pressed closer as he braced his forearms under her shoulders, hands resting in her hair.
Reining in his need to thrust into her hard and just fuck her, Draco caressed her body as it were a sacred book. His fingers tested between her legs and the way she bucked at his touch and the moisture he felt there made him smirk to himself.
Without much warning, Hermione felt him line himself up and the next thing she knew he was inside her. She gasped as the intrusion and pulled her mouth from his, brow wrinkled in concentration as she tried to gather her wits about her.
"Are you okay," he asked.
She noted the hesitancy in his voice and reached up to brush her fingertips across his check reassuringly.
"I'm fine," she nodded. "You're just…" She rolled her eyes and nearly grimaced, "Bigger than I was expecting."
Draco's confident smirk reemerged at that and he rocked against her from his current position, savoring the way she released a surprised breath and moaned softly.
"You flatter me, Hermione."
Hermione huffed out a slight laugh and pinched his shoulder where she was holding on. "Don't flatter yourself. Not until you make good on your promise at least."
He nodded and his face became more serious again, their brief return to bantering gone.
She sucked in a deep breath as he pulled back only to release it when he pushed back in firmly.
She'd thought she'd known what to expect, her lackluster experience leaving her with a definite boredom with sex. Her only experience with sex before consisted of little attention for her and jerky pistoning of her partner's hips until he left her halfway to completion and entirely frustrated.
Draco was nothing at all like that. His rhythm was slow and deep, his hands caressing parts of her body that had been neglected before. It was when his hand drifted between their bodies to press against her center than she released a strangled moan and clutched him to her.
His kisses never ceased, whether for her lips or her neck or whatever else he could reach…Draco had to have it all and she couldn't find it in her to deny him.
Even when his thrusts devolved into hard jerks of his hips, he didn't forget about her needs. It was all she could do to keep her hands on him, sloppy kisses pressed to his jaw.
He was intent on making sure that she reached her climax first and when she went rigid under him, her breath catching and her eyes rolling back, he smirked to himself before he let go.
Still shivering from the result of her first orgasm, Hermione returned his kisses as he lingered over her, lovingly caressing her heated body.
No, not lovingly. Whatever there was between them now—definite attraction, possibly even new respect and need—they didn't love each other.
But they now belonged to each other. 'Til death do them part.
She'd never know for sure but she was almost certain she heard him breathe her name when they'd settled down to sleep, his arm holding her tightly to his chest after he'd encouraged her to lay her head there.
~o~O~o~
Draco stood behind his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose as a headache brewed behind his eyes. He wasn't sure how much longer he could listen to Theo and Blaise drone on about the failings of the employees they supervised in his law firm.
No longer blind to his friends' inadequacies, he was well aware that many of the issues they were facing were due to their lack of leadership. Mostly Theo's, if he were honest.
I never should have given that barmy git more responsibility than Blaise.
A light knock on his office door distracted him and his head shot up, thankful to whoever would be saving him from this monstrosity. He needed to move Theo into a position he was better suited to and be done with the bullshit of giving friend's opportunities just because they didn't desert him after the war. It was a rare sense of loyalty for any Slytherin but he couldn't shake it.
That was until Hermione had pointed out the main cause of his firm's issues to him over breakfast that morning. He hated to admit it but the witch was generally right and this was no exception.
That and the fact that she had conceded to his insistence that they share breakfast each morning before work. It was traditional, he'd insisted. What married couple didn't share meals together?
But back to his current problem. Theo wasn't a leader; he was more of a kamikaze arrow that only knew how to fly like a drunken teenager.
"Come in," he called to whoever had blessedly interrupted the ill-timed meeting
Hermione opened the door of his office, and stepped inside. She was dressed in her long trenchcoat as she'd been that morning when she set off in the rain. They'd agreed to have dinner out tonight and she was here to collect him. It was the very reason he'd approached her to fulfill this law. Truly, he'd come to appreciate her mind and enjoyed her conversation.
She bristled when she saw the two former Slytherins standing there.
Draco watched as Blaise gave her a polite nod in greeting.
"Granger," he greeted neutrally.
"Nice to see you again, Zabini," she returned in her quiet voice.
Theo scoffed and folded his arms over his chest. "Your mudblood slut is here," he announced as though Draco hadn't bid her to enter.
Hermione's stomach clenched in silent rage but her face remained mostly impassive minus her downcast eyes and clenched fists.
Their first week back from the short honeymoon had been eye opening to say the least. Draco wasn't by any means the sort of besotted man you'd expect to see after a week of making love to his new wife but he was warmer and far more affectionate than she'd have ever expected.
Harry and Ron had been rather appalled. Ginny seemed to have enjoyed witnessing this side of her new husband.
His friends didn't seem to understand at all. Well, Nott and his wife, Pansy Parkinson didn't at least. Blaise Zabini didn't seem to care and merely gave her a good-natured ribbing for marrying the one Slytherin least deserving of her attention. She'd not been able to fault him for it.
However, it was that niggling fear deep in her chest that kept prodding her.
Was he really wrong in how he'd insulted her? She'd sold herself into this marriage in exchange for his influence to further her cause, not mention to avoid a worse match. Did that make her any different than those who sold their body for coins? Hell, she'd even agreed to regular sex with him. Worse still, she quickly found over the course of the last month that she enjoyed it.
Before she could muster up her normal sort of scathing response, Draco lifted an arrogant eyebrow and merely reached for his wand. He flicked his wrist quickly and smirked in satisfaction when Nott jumped in surprise.
"Bloody hell, Malfoy! That hurt!"
He pocketed his wand as he eyed his wife's wide eyes and withheld the urge to do further damage. He glanced back at his so-called friend and crossed his arms, a sneer in place now. "Call my wife by either of those names, merely even think it, and I'll do worse than send a timid stinging jinx your way." He tipped his head to the open office door. "Get out of my sight before I change my mind."
Draco waited until they'd vacated the room before he approached Hermione. Her eyes followed his every move, even as he placed both hands on either of her cheeks. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before retreating to his desk to gather his things.
"My apologies for Nott's appalling behavior, Hermione."
Hermione swallowed, a bit uncertain how to take his gentle expression of affection that he was becoming more and more at ease with bestowing on her. She ultimately didn't respond and merely took his arm as he led them out of his office.
There was something in the way he kept saying her name that she didn't quite understand. Something in his tone which warmed her while at the same time sending dozens of questions swirling through her mind.
~o~O~o~
Draco stood in the open doorway and watched as she rinsed the last bit of soap from her hair. He felt like a voyeur just standing there but couldn't pass up the opportunity to watch her. She still refused to bathe with him and he wanted nothing more than to share every single intimate detail of her life. As independent as she was, she was still his.
"Shit, Malfoy!" She shrieked when she spotted him standing there. "Are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?"
Draco pushed away from the doorframe and approached the tub where she was beginning to rise, sloshing water on the floor in the process. He reached for the plush, white towel on the counter and eyed her expectantly.
"Up," he ordered softly.
Hermione swallowed hard as she met his grey eyes. She didn't particularly enjoy putting herself on display for him yet she knew if she complied there was less chance of another argument between them. He must be here to apologize for his insensitive remark about her latest legislature, she mused.
She stood from the tub slowly and if her skin hadn't already been pink from the heat of the water she knew it would be now with the way he was watching her.
Draco waited patiently as she stood and gradually stepped out of the water. He approached her slowly and gently ran the towel over her shoulders and torso. He draped the oversized towel over her shoulders and wrapped her up as he turned her to face him.
He craned his neck to kiss her lips softly and groaned when her wet fingers twisted into his shirt between the folds of the towel. He pulled away slowly and gazed into her brown eyes which had gone dark as chocolate. "Can I have you tonight?"
He always asked for permission in some way. Sometimes with words, others with just a look. He waited with bated breath as she swallowed before nodding.
With a deep growl, Draco stooped to lift her into his arms. He made the few steps from their bathroom to the bed and deposited her in the middle of the mattress. She lay sprawled on the towel, the front of her barely covered. He watched her chest rising and falling with each anxious breath while he shed his shirt and quickly began working on his belt.
Her breath hitched when he finally shed the rest of his clothes and rested a knee on the bed as he crawled over her slowly. He kissed his way from her navel, between her breasts, and finally to her lips.
He might have been distant at times but Draco was an observant man. Despite their odd marriage, he knew she loved to be kissed. He knew how she loved to be kissed. Gentle nips to her lips, a swirl of his tongue against hers, or a soft suck of her lower lip—she melted under him.
He'd been less stressed lately and she'd noticed. Ever since he'd transferred Theo to a different department—at her suggestion—to work on some solo projects, he'd relaxed.
Draco smiling was a sight to be seen. It had startled Ginny and Harry the first time they'd witnessed it over dinner in Diagon Alley one evening after he'd laughed at story she'd told from her work day.
His ease around her put her own worries at bay. Relaxed, Draco was quite pleasant if not downright enjoyable.
However, his jealously was an ugly thing to witness.
Two weeks later it reared its ugly head when he accompanied her to a social function for her department at the Ministry. He mostly stood near the bar nursing a single glass of firewhiskey while his wife socialized with the dim and dimwitted individuals she called co-workers and the simpering fools who she was courting to sponsor some of her new legislature.
After one wizard made one too many not so subtle efforts to touch his wife, Draco pushed away from the bar, his drink forgotten.
He'd wanted to stay out of her way. After all, she had his financial backing without having to ask for it. However, he knew she took pride in her skill at converting others to her views and earning their support.
He knew once he took his spot at her side, he chanced ruining some of her more promising connections. He was a respected wizarding attorney. His successes didn't stop the Prophet from still questioning her sanity for agreeing to his match still six months into their young marriage.
"Hermione," he spoke her name in a tone he knew that grated on her nerves. His wife. And he wanted everyone to know.
However, she was as composed as always as she glanced over her shoulder when he approached, his hand slid around her waist possessively but she allowed it. She offered him a small smile, her message clear. Behave yourself.
"Mr. Graves, I do believe you've met my husband before."
The older man was greying at the temples but despite his coloring, he appeared younger than he was. He smiled graciously and held out his hand for a firm shake.
Draco returned it with equal force, his hand resuming its place at her waist.
"Pleasure," Draco drawled calmly.
"Indeed, Mr. Malfoy. Your wife was just informing me of her newest efforts to loosen the strict regulation of the wolfsbane potion to allow for greater access and easier production."
"Too right," he responded, giving her hip a gentle squeeze. "It's a rather delicate potion to make but not dangerous. The side effects of an ill-brewed batch aren't enough to justify the overly intense regulation. It's caused spiked prices for years on the market."
Draco watched as the man's dull blue eyes roved over his wife's figure discreetly as a smile slipped onto his mouth. He'd been touching her arm or her shoulder far too much for Draco's liking. Those touches weren't innocent. They held ill will.
"Yes, she's quite brilliant," Mr. Graves agreed.
Hermione watched the interaction with bated breath. She wasn't stupid. The bloody man had been flirting with her rather obviously for the last twenty minutes before Draco appeared by her side suddenly.
She'd heard rumors of the women he'd courted and bedded in the Ministry after such social functions. Truly, she hadn't been the one to seek him out. However, her propensity towards politeness kept her from fleeing his company. She'd battled much worse than a simple leering man. The second he truly crossed the line she'd planned on sending a wandless stinging hex his way.
Draco's lip itched to curl into a sneer but she nudged her elbow into his side discreetly and he settled on a menacing smile instead.
"Yes, she is quite brilliant."
Sensing the need for an exit, Hermione hooked her arm through Draco's and began edging away. "It's been lovely to speak with you, Mr. Graves. I'm afraid we have another engagement tonight and need to be going. I hope you'll consider supporting the legislation we discussed."
"Of course, a pleasure to have your company, Miss Granger."
The man had the nerve to smile in his direction as he bent over her hand to kiss the back of it. He turned on heel afterwards and stalked off for the bar.
Hermione wasn't sure how it started exactly. One minute he was glaring at the man's back, the next he was pulling her through the crowd to the nearest floo.
Something inside of him seemed to have snapped and he led her straight to their bedroom without a word. He pushed her back onto the bed with more force than usual and began working at their clothes.
She was too shocked to speak. Too bewildered by his sudden change in demeanor to challenge him.
His lips were on hers then, stoking a flame inside her that never seemed to die.
Draco was nearly blind with jealousy as he thrust himself into her, her responding moan music to his ears as he began a torturous rhythm, pushing at an angle which nudged against that perfect spot inside her that unraveled her from the inside out.
He thrust blindly as she reached for anything to hold onto, too shocked to keep up with his speed as her body arched.
She was his and he wanted her to know it.
Hermione twisted her fingers into the sheets as he inched her further up the mattress with every thrust. With her body moving under his causing him to readjust each time, Draco growled as he ultimately brought himself closer and trapped her by curling his arms under her shoulders to hold her tightly. The action brought them nose to nose and he slowed his actions as he met her chocolate eyes. He halted his motions for a moment as he stared into their depths. A look of confusion crossed her features before he ducked his head and caught her swollen lips in a soft but deep kiss.
When she moaned into his mouth and her hands came up to frame his face gently, he nearly lost it and began slow, deep thrusts that were much gentler than before but probed much deeper for her. He panted over her as she tore her mouth from his, turning her head away as she released a low moan. His lips pulled into a slight smirk at the sight before a realization struck him.
The ownership was reciprocal. As much as this had started by trying to show her that she belonged to him and no other man, he'd succumbed to her. He was just as much hers. The thought struck him somewhere deep and he hid his nose in her hair as he continued to love her slowly. What had she broken in him? When had she done it?
As he felt her small hands trail the length of his back he released a low moan of his own. Her touch burned him and he became less aware of the pleasure he was sharing with her and more aware of actually giving to her. Every stroke lighting his soul on fire as her lips rubbed across his jaw.
"Draco," she panted just before her back bowed and she went rigid, her orgasm pulling him under as well.
He slumped over her, still held up with his forearms pressed under her shoulders. His brain swam with random thoughts as he tried to focus again.
"What…just happened," she finally asked, still breathing heavily.
Draco opened his eyes to find her chocolate eyes clear again and focused intently on his, her hand pressed over his heart as the other gripped his bicep lightly.
He groaned and shook his head before he leaned down to kiss her again. Her response was slow at first before her lips became soft and pliant under him.
"I don't really know," he admitted as he pulled away again.
Truthfully, it was the best sex they'd had yet. But there it was—it wasn't just sex. He'd well and truly just made love to her.
Hermione felt the change in him even if he couldn't put words to it as he rolled to his back, taking her with him to rest on his chest as he usually did. The fingers that stroked her skin moments before came up to stroke through her hair and she felt her eyes begin to droop.
"Hermione…" She heard him say before sleep took her.
Something had changed between them after that night and she was terribly aware of it. He'd begun leaving small tokens for her—fresh flowers he clearly obtained from Neville's shop in Diagon Alley, her favorite chocolates, and new books he'd picked out for her.
It struck her as odd. He'd been quite generous from the start and very affectionate but this was a new level.
The way he tucked into her in bed on the nights they didn't have sex or the way he went out of his way to massage her back as he lay behind her at night while she was on her period—it was like he was trying to…to woo her.
She was terribly confused over the next few weeks as he never spoke of any underlying emotions, merely offered up his attentions and material gifts without much pomp and circumstance. It was as though he didn't quite know the words for what he was trying to convey to her. Had no familiarity with the things he seemed to be feeling.
And bloody hell if she didn't kind of hate herself for it but she'd fallen in love with the prat.
Beyond the physical, he truly seemed to enjoy her mind. He sought her out for conversations and picked at her opinions. Occasionally, he frustrated her with playing the enemy to stoke a reaction from her but in all seemed to like her mind.
And damn it if the man wasn't brilliant himself. She'd always known he was intelligent but listening to him discuss problems with his firm and work through difficult issues convinced her that there was so much more to Draco Malfoy than a quick wit and easy insult.
Eight months into their marriage, she knew something was different.
Draco sprung up in bed automatically when she rushed to the loo early one morning. His bleary eyes focused in the dark room before he trudged behind her and knelt at her side as he held her hair off her neck while she retched into the toilet.
"That's four times now," he muttered groggily, one hand rubbing the length of her spine as she breathed over the porcelain bowl. "I think you need to see a healer."
He wasn't coherent enough yet to understand the implications of her sickness but she was and an odd knot of nerves bundled low in her stomach when she turned curious brown eyes up to him.
A week later, Narcissa Malfoy stood in the living room doorway and gazed at her daughter-in-law lying on her side on the sofa, blankets up to her chin as her small body disappeared under them.
"What's wrong with her, Draco," she practically hissed from the corner of her mouth.
He stepped up to her side to peek into the room and cringed at how miserable his wife looked. "She's pregnant."
Her eyes swiveled quickly to her son, her look of shock and excitement muddled into one. "You're certain?"
He nodded as he reached back to rub his neck. "Her morning sickness had become bad like this within the last week and I went with her to see her healer at St. Mungos yesterday afternoon. The witch confirmed it. She's six weeks along."
"Oh, how wonderful," his mother cooed and pushed past her son. She approached the younger witch hesitantly and waited until she cracked her eyes open. The poor thing was curled on her side with a small waste bin at the edge of the couch. "Oh, you poor thing. I was exactly the same when I was pregnant with Draco."
"Bloody git," Hermione murmured as she fought another round of nausea.
It didn't last all day but it was fairly miserable for the first few hours in the morning. Miserable enough that she'd called into work to take sick leave, leaving her department terribly confused. She never took time off. She could hardly wait for her healer to send over the morning sickness potion later.
Narcissa hid her smile behind her hand. Yes, she'd called her late husband something similar at the time as well.
She'd not had too many interactions with the young woman since they had married, what with Draco keeping her to himself. However, she could feel the tide changing. She knew why he'd originally chosen this witch. He claimed that he couldn't stomach the pureblood sycophants that sought him out and insisted instead on brilliance over blood. Beauty over pedigree, though he'd not openly admitted the latter to his mother.
On her trips to Diagon Alley to run errands, Narcissa felt the change. People who had been hesitant to speak with her since the war now openly greeted her. Pictures of her son and his wife enjoying social functions were plastered on the papers and while some still questioned their choice of each other, it was clear their relationship was amicable.
Yes, the tides were indeed changing.
"Would you like tea, dear? It might settle your stomach."
Hermione eyed her mother-in-law for a moment before nodding pitifully.
Narcissa quickly turned her attention to her son who was still lingering awkwardly at the doorway. "Well, what are you waiting for," she snapped. "She wants tea. Make sure you add a little ginger for her stomach."
Draco's brow lifted in shock at her sharp tone before he finally rolled his eyes and made for the kitchen.
The older witch crouched most elegantly, despite her regal robes, near Hermione's head and brushed some curls away from her face. This woman was their savior. Not just for her good name but for the life she'd brought back into their family. And now a grandchild?
Hermione didn't flinch at her touch. She'd actually been wishing terribly that her own mother was there to dote on her and was in the mood to gladly take a substitute. When the witch's hand moved to her back and began rubbing gentle lines along the length of her spine she sunk more into the sofa. Draco often did the same after he made love to her to coax her to sleep.
Draco returned with the cup of tea to find his mother crouched over his wife. He rested on the coffee table and set the tea down next to him.
"She falls asleep when you do that," he finally noted quietly.
"You'd better be thankful for her, Draco," his mother admonished as she finally moved and sat next to him, both watching Hermione sleep.
He rested his elbows on his knees and nodded, eyes still intent on his wife's sleeping form. "I know. I also know you always wanted a daughter and how thankful you are that she's accepted you, even if you're not quite close yet."
Narcissa sighed and nodded. "I love you, dear. Don't ever mistake that. But…yes, I did. I'm still rather surprised she's accepted either of us given her past interactions with our family."
Draco sighed deeply and glanced at the silver band adorning his left ring finger. He twisted it back and forth before glancing up again at his sleeping wife.
"I love her."
His mother lifted a sculpted brow at that and glanced at her son. "And how long has it taken for you finally admit it to yourself?"
He shrugged self-consciously. And looked back to his ring. "I tried to fight it, I think. She can be rather difficult."
"But you like that about her. If she were easy to get to know you'd have been bored, dear."
He nodded his agreement and felt his shoulders slump. "It's not mutual. She's content and has lost much of her distrust towards me but she doesn't love me. I don't know that she ever will."
"I think you'll be surprised, Draco."
"We didn't write falling in love into our marriage contract, mother."
"Yet here you are," she smiled knowingly, "madly in love with your wife." She shook her head as she stood to leave. "Keep trying, dear. Her kind isn't the type to ignore their emotions for long. One thing about those bloody Gryffindors, they're terribly passionate and emotional. And I've seen the way she looks at you. She's probably just a little confused is all."
Despite her reassuring words, Draco had never felt so dejected.
Granted, he'd also never been in love before now. He had no idea how to tell her or how to show her. And she was terribly brilliant. He was rather surprised she'd not seen through him yet.
Six weeks later, he was no closer to admitting his feelings.
He'd tried numerous times. Tried to let the words out but each time something stopped him.
Once over dinner when the words were on the tip of his tongue her stupid friends emerged from the floo unannounced revealing news of the Potterette's pregnancy. She and Hermione would be due near the same time.
Draco had scowled at them as he sat at the table by himself, watching as they cried in excitement over the news.
All he could think was that Hermione hadn't cried excitedly when she found at she was pregnant with their child. In fact, she'd looked downright sick to her stomach despite that having been the ultimate goal of their marriage.
He'd missed their look of confusion when he whisked their dirty dinner plates off to the sink with a flick of his wand and stomped out of the room without a word.
He'd felt guilt roll in his stomach when he'd turned away from her more than once when she'd tried to initiate sex, no longer able to face making love to a woman who didn't return his feelings.
And as he trailed silently behind her in a muggle furniture store searching for the perfect crib, he lamented the fact that they'd not slept together in weeks now.
Something in her demeanor around him had changed, too. She seemed closed off again, distrustful even. Their conversations were stilted and it was an effort on his part not to break down in front of her.
Draco ran his fingertips along the stained wood of the various cribs as he watched his wife inspect various models. He had no idea what she wanted and this was a last resort after she'd rejected every option in Diagon Alley as well.
"I like this one," she finally announced.
His head snapped up to attention and he crossed the room to see her choice.
A dark cherry wood, simply adorned with a vintage look. She had lovely taste, of course.
Draco eyed the price tag and nodded. "If that's the one you want."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, her hand unconsciously going to her stomach which was only just beginning to show.
She was sick of it. Sick of his odd brooding. Sick of his vacant expression. Outright sick of him not speaking his mind when in the past he was so willing to do so.
What the hell had changed after they'd confirmed that she was pregnant?
"Okay," she sighed, her hand coming up to squeeze the bridge of her nose in a way he often did at the onset of a headache. "I've had about enough of this, Draco. I can't take it any longer."
His grey eyes met hers hesitantly and he braced himself for her rejection. He'd mucked things up, that much he knew.
Hermione shook her head, curls bouncing about her shoulders freely. She'd begun wearing it down more months ago when he'd admitted his preference for it.
"Draco, what's happened? And don't deny that you've been acting strangely ever since the healer confirmed the pregnancy. Is that it?" She paused and paled suddenly. "Is the reality of me being pregnant…of having your children with…me…too much?"
His face screwed up in confusion and he shook his head. "What are you going on about? What do you mean with you?"
She laughed but it was an empty, hollow sound. "Honestly, I thought you'd made progress, Draco but clearly you're still not over all of your prejudices. The idea of procreating with a mudblood is too much to take when it becomes reality instead of fiction, isn't it?"
His eyes narrowed and he stepped forward, crowding her space as he grabbed her shoulders in both hands.
"Don't you dare refer to yourself with that term ever again," he growled. "Do you hear me?"
Hermione swallowed as she looked up at him and regretted some of her words. "Then what is it, Draco," she whispered. "Why have you been so cold to me?"
His hands dropped from her shoulders and he turned to brace himself on the crib. He could feel her watching him as his shoulders hunched around him and his head fell forward.
"I love you," he whispered.
Not sure she heard him right, she turned closer to him to try and catch his gaze. "I'm sorry. What was that?"
Draco turned back to her, fists clenched at his sides. "I said…I love you." He struggled to catch his breath when her eyes went wide before darting off to the side uncomfortably. "It became too much to bear knowing that you didn't feel the same way."
He shook his head and stepped back to gain some control over himself. With her perfume wafting between them, reminding him of how she smelled and with that the memory of how she felt, it was too much to bear.
"I'm not good with my emotions, Hermione. I never have been. I had no idea how to say it and then worse, we found out you were pregnant and I just…you didn't seem happy to be pregnant with my child. Not like your blasted friend. And touching you when I knew you didn't feel the same way about me that I did about you, and I just—"
He didn't get to finish his sentence as she quickly reached for his face, drawing him down to her in a deep kiss.
His whole body went slack with weeks' worth of tension dissolving out of him in waves with every press of her mouth. Every reassuring nip and the press of her body against him, the slightest feel of her stomach against his waist—every emotion came rushing back inside his chest until he felt ready to burst.
Hermione pulled back slowly, sinking back to her heels as he panted over her.
"You stupid, silly git," she berated softly.
"Have you decided on anything, ma'am?"
Hermione turned to face the saleswoman and smiled, still in the arms of her dumbfounded husband.
"My husband and I decided on this one. Would it be possible to have it delivered?"
"Of course," the woman smiled and left them to write up the purchase.
"Hermione…"
She turned back to him and placed a finger over his lips. "Save it until we get home. I have a lot more to say to you. The short version is that I love you, too."
A slow smile worked its way onto Draco's face and he allowed her to tug him along to the register. He waited until she'd finished, swiping her muggle bank card for the crib, and then quickly pulled him back out onto the London streets to apparate home.
He expected words but her mind was clearly elsewhere when she led him upstairs and pushed him back on their bed. When she climbed over him, their clothes gone and thrown on the floor in a haphazard pile, he found he didn't care.
Hermione kissed him deeply, words for once failing her as she sank down on him. Having never been in this position before she tore her mouth from his with a soft sigh, the feeling of him inside her after going so long without nearly too much.
Draco stroked his hands along her back as she hunched over him, her brow screwed up in concentration.
"So deep," he heard her whisper.
He kissed her wrinkled brow and placed his hands on her hips.
"Let me help you, Hermione."
They stared into each other's eyes as he helped her set an easy rhythm. Her hips rolled against his in a way that set them both on edge while she braced her hands against his chest.
"Draco," she sighed softly as he somehow sunk deeper.
One of his hands trailed her spine, sending shivers down the length of her body while his other hand still helped guide her hips.
"Fuck…Hermione," he groaned when one last roll of her hips sent them both into a spiral of ecstasy.
Draco gathered her close when she collapsed against him. She was the most cherished thing in his entire life now.
Hermione swallowed against her dry throat as she tried to catch her breath. After a few moments she finally managed the strength to prop herself up on one elbow to face him.
"You're an idiot," was the first thing out of her mouth before she smiled fondly and caressed his cheek with one hand.
"As if you didn't know," he scoffed, a mock sneer on his lips.
"Why couldn't you just talk to me," she asked more seriously. "Did you really think I'd have rejected you?" His lifted brow was his answer and she shook her head at him. "Whatever I did to make you feel that way, I just wish you'd have told me. I'm sorry that I made you think I wouldn't want you."
"And I'm sorry I wasn't adult enough to say it. I just thought with the way you reacted when we found out you were pregnant…"
"I was scared, Draco. It's one thing to say you're ready to have a child with a man who you think doesn't love you, add in a contract marriage at that, but it's another for it all to become reality. My emotions were all over the place." She sighed and moved to rest her head against his shoulder, pleased when he began rubbing her back as he used to. "Maybe we're both to blame."
"Agree to let it go and move forward," he asked.
Hermione smiled against him as her eyes drooped. "Keep rubbing my back and we'll call it a truce."
"Fair enough," he sighed contentedly.
Eleven Years Later
Draco followed alongside his wife as they passed through to platform 9 ¾. He watched as she helped Scorpius push his cart through the throngs of witches and wizards sending their children off to school.
Scorpius came screaming from the womb with a shock of bright blonde hair that fell in soft waves instead of the curls of his mother's. His brown eyes mirrored Hermione's and she took pride in the fact that he didn't inherit Draco's smirk.
Unlike their seven year-old daughter though. She had Hermine's honey brown curls and brown eyes as well but she had Draco's smirk.
"It's going to get her in trouble one day." Hermione always said. All he could do was smirk in return.
They met the Potters and the Weasleys who were also seeing their children off for their first year. Draco set Lyra down and she immediately ran straight towards Potter's younger daughter where the two girls occupied themselves with petting Scorpius' new cat.
"He's going to be alright, isn't he," Hermione worried her lip while Scorpius and James compared their new brooms.
"Of course he is," Draco assured her as he slung an arm around her slender shoulders, pulling her into his side before kissing her temple. "He's a Granger-Malfoy," he smirked. "McGonagall on the other hand…she might have a bit of a time with him. I know she's shocked enough that you and I procreated."
She turned her worried gaze up at him. "You really think he'll get sorted into Gryffindor?"
He sighed as he nodded. "Definitely. He's Gryffindor through and through, that one."
"You're not upset by the prospect?"
"Hermione," he narrowed his eyes at her, "you know I don't care about that anymore. I don't much care which house our children end up in." He rolled his eyes when she lifted a challenging brow. "Okay, except Hufflepuff. I'd rather not that. But you might want to prepare yourself for Lyra."
"I know," she cringed. "Slytherin or Gryffindor, it's harder to tell with her."
"Hmm," he hummed in agreement.
After final hugs and kisses, they watched as their children boarded the train to start the greatest journey of their young lives. Hermione was near in tears as Scorpius leaned out the window, waving to them as the train pulled out from the station.
Draco pulled her close to his side and leaned down to kiss her temple. "I love you, Hermione."
She rested her head against his shoulder, "I love you, too, Draco. So much."