Draco Malfoy sighed heavily and tugged at the knot on his tie. Somehow he thought after Hogwarts he wouln't have to wear these anymore... He stepped up in line for the Ministry's Floo lines. Bloody lines. They should've made more of these, five is simply not enough for the growing population of witches and wizards getting new jobs in the Ministry of Magic.
He glanced at a group of giggling witches behind him.
"No, you ask him!"
"No! I'm too shy, you're prettier than us, he'd be happy to go out with you..."
The three of them dissolved into a fit of the giggles again once Draco gave them a polite nod. He was well aware of his attractiveness, there was nothing wrong with that, and besides, they weren't even talking to him anyway, so no harm...
"Excuse me, Draco Malfoy, isn't it?" The most outgoing of the three girls smiled sweetly at him. My. They were serious weren't they.
"Yes, it is." The blonde man replied, if a bit stiffly.
"I'm Vienna." She stuck out a well-manicured hand for him to shake. He did, and she flashed a brilliant smile at him.
"I've just started out here," she motioned widely to the large room in which they stood, "And I'm having a terrible time finding my way around."She raised an eyebrow flirtatiously, "Do you think you could...give me a tour?" Something in her voice left no doubt in Draco's mind that this "tour" she wished him to take her on, would preferably end in his locked office.
Draco smiled politely again. "I'm sure I could, but I really am very sorry, I promised my wife I would be home early." He ran his left hand quickly through his newly-cut hair, flashing the golden band around his ring finger for extra effect.
Vienna pursed her red-painted lips together for a moment, but quickly regained her composure. "That is unfortunate." She said vaguely, and Draco was not entirely sure if she was referring to the lack of a tour, or the ring he knew she had seen. "Will I see you around the office then?" She asked, as a parting note.
Draco shrugged, a gesture quite foreign to his lean, elegant build. He took his place in the green fire of the Floo and shouted, "Amegkure!". He turned around for a split second before he dissapeared. Vienna was watching him.
He felt his old Slytherin habits rise up in him for a second, and without thinking, winked. The expression of confusion on the blonde's face was priceless. He chuckled a little as he arrived at his house, through a fire pit that his wife had set up outside. He stepped lightly onto the leaf-ridden path that led to his front door.
He never had pictured himself living in a place like this. A little cottage, with wildflowers growing everywhere, and wild grass springing up past his knees. He also never imagined him liking it. Malfoys were always so manicured, not a hair out of place to ruin the facade of perfection. But here, he felt like himself.
He chuckled slightly as he kicked a rock off the path to his home. He supposed he had his wife to thank for that. Despite the strange name, the house itself was quite charming, and well, his wife was absolutely in love with it, and Draco would do anything for her.
She had changed him, Draco allowed, or at least the war had. Either way, if pre-war Draco could see him now, living in a wildflower-ridden cottage, working in a godforsaken cubicle in the Ministry, married before he was 25; his sixteen year-old self would go into conniptions.
Somehow he always thought he would have waited longer to tie the knot; enjoy his bachelor-hood for as long as he possibly could.
He reached the door of the cottage and pushed it open. The scene that greeted him was nearly as picturesque as the one he had just left.
To his left was a short hallway filled with pictures of him, his wife, and their friends. His favorite photo by far was the one in the exact middle of the small corridor, their wedding photo.
Blaise Zabini had been his best man, what with Crabbe being dead, and Goyle in prison. His groomsmen, however, included Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The Wizarding world was shocked. Harry Potter, a groomsman at his worst enemy's wedding?
It was, in fact, little known that the two men, did not, in fact, hate each other. During their time at the Ministry together, they had grown quite close and were now drinking buddies. Ron and Draco weren't nearly as close, but neither wanted to kill the other, and that was definitely an improvement from Hogwarts days.
The main reason that he loved this photo was, of course, that he could look at it, and see himself marrying the most amazing woman in the world, but at a close second was the look on Ron Weasely's face as Draco kissed his bride.
Draco shrugged off his coat by the door and walked forward towards the brightly lit kitchen and his wife, who was wearing a green and yellow sundress while frowning over a steaming pot of…something.
The blonde man came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
She jumped a little at the unexpected contact, but soon settled comfortably in her husband's embrace.
"Good day at work?" She asked.
"Are you kidding me?" Draco said in mock horror, "A group of teenage wizards in London thought it would be funny to bewitch the toilets in the London Underground to bite anyone who sat on them. I think if I have to track down one more muggle and Obliviate them, I'll go insane. Beside that, I have a mountain of reports to file, and worst of all," Draco took his wife by the wrists and spun her around to face him, "I didn't get to see you for one measly minute of it."
He planted at soft kiss on his wife's forehead. She smiled and turned back to the stove.
"I'll be back at my little cubicle in two days, don't worry about it."
"Why aren't you there now?" Draco asked concernedly. This topic had come up before, and every time, was pushed aside, to be discussed later. "If you want a vacation, you could wait a month; at least the beaches would be nice…"
"Your dinner is burning." She abruptly changed the subject and started stirring the pot with as much concentration as you would expect a surgeon to have while operating.
Draco would not be deterred. With a flick of his wand, he turned off the heat of the stove and whirled his wife to face him once again.
"Are you sick?"
"No…" His wife half-laughed.
"Are you sure?" he put his hand on her forehead, checking for a fever. She slapped it away impatiently.
"I'm fine, Draco!" She insisted, turning back to the stove. "Just a bit stressed, I suppose, that's all."
"Well," Draco said as seductively as he could, "I can think of a few ways to relieve that stress…" He wrapped his arms back around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.
His wife sighed. "Draco…"
"What?" He said exasperatedly, "What's wrong? You used to love it when I talked dirty…"
"The rubbish bin is overflowing." She said, quickly changing the subject, again.
Draco wrinkled his nose. "I didn't mean that kind of dirty."
"Please, Draco…" His wife kissed him quickly on the lips and he gave in.
"Alright, fine." He said as he spelled the bag out of the rubbish bin and tied it shut.
By the time Draco had walked to the large garbage can behind the house and back, the pot and its contents were cooling on the stove and his wife was in the living room, sitting on the light lime green couch and staring off into space. Draco knelt down in front of her.
"Hermione," He said slowly, "What's wrong?"
The brunette just shook her head silently.
"Please, love," He stood up. "I can't do anything if you don't tell me what the matter is."
"I'm sorry…" Hermione started, but Draco interrupted her.
"Sorry? Sorry for what? Are you seeing someone else?" He quickly jumped to conclusions.
"Draco, no...I..." Hermione tried to continue, but her husband just kept going.
"If you are, then that bastard is the one who's going to be sorry…"
"I'm not…" Hermione said rather exasperatedly, but she was cut off again.
"Messing around with MY wife, that bloody bastard, he deserves what's coming to him!"
"Draco!" Hermione practically screamed, "I'm not cheating on you, I'm pregnant!"
Draco Malfoy opened and closed his mouth quickly, but no sound came out. He looked for all the world like a fish out of water.
"Oh." He said quietly.
"I'm sorry!" Hermione said again, a single tear threatening to escape her already watery eyes. "I know you didn't even want to start a family in the first place, let alone now, and I thought I was fine until about a month ago…" She sniffed and continued. "And neither of us is where we want to be. You've got a bloody desk job for Christ's sake! You were going to be a Potions Master, teach at Hogwarts! You don't want a baby tying you down, and we can barely afford to keep up Amegkure as it is!" She motioned wildly to the inside of their cottage.
Draco opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione silenced him.
"And I will NOT use your parents' money." She said firmly, but the tears sliding down her cheeks cut into the convincingness of that statement. "I took off work, so I could get it taken care of…" She took a shaky breath.
"Taken care of…?" Draco repeated, shocked that his wife would even consider doing such a thing to a child. Their child. His eyes widened in fear, "Did you…"
"I couldn't do it!" Hermione sobbed, "I'm sorry, I couldn't. I know I'm forcing it on you, but…"
"Hermione," Draco shushed her. He sat down on the sofa next to her and let Hermione bury her head in his shirt for a few minutes.
"Look," he said, tilting her head up so she would see his face, "Look at me, Don't be sorry. It's not your fault, it's not anyone's, I'm not mad, I could never be." He brushed a few stray hairs out of Hermione's face.
"I know we don't have a lot of money on our own, but I refuse to let you have this 'taken care of'. I don't even want the thought to cross your mind."
Hermione nodded tearfully, "But you'll never be able to…"
"Promotions will always be there, he said "but I don't want you to think for a second that this will make me mad, or love you any less, because it won't. We'll figure something out." He kissed her on the forehead comfortingly. "This isn't the end of the world, we'll still be happy. Just for different reasons."
Hermione wiped her eyes and gave her husband a small smile. "I love you, you know that?"
Draco nodded and pulled her closer into his chest. "And it's going to be okay." He leaned down and whispered to Hermione's abdomen, "isn't that right, Scorpius?"
Hermione frowned. "We're not naming the baby Scorpius."