A/N: This story was inspired by the Winter Wonderland: Dramione moodboard by the very talented Jasperandgemma on tumblr. Go check it out. Its A-Mazing! Love to my beta, xxDustNight88.
Disclaimer: All canon character, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this writing.
New Year, New Beginnings.
"It's a new year, new beginnings right?" Hermione asked herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was coming up on her eighth wedding anniversary, and to say that the last year had been the cliched seven year itch was possibly the understatement of the century.
Malfoy Inc. had expanded across Europe which meant her husband, Draco, had spent much of the year away from home, in one city or another. She would have loved to have travelled with him but with a promotion to head of the MLE in her sights, she stayed in London working her proverbial arse off while Draco it seemed enjoyed the life of Reily, lured by the city lights.
Last New Year's Eve, they had agreed this would be the year they started a family. But, Hermione mused dryly, one has to have one's husband in the country for that to happen.
"You look stunning, darling," Draco's reflection told her as he came up behind her, threading his arms around her waist. His lips brushed against the exposed flesh of her shoulder.
"Are you sure it's not too...I don't know, ostentatious?" She frowned, eyeing the elegant gown with its plunging diamante encrusted neckline suspiciously.
Draco smiled, "No, it looks beautiful on you; you look every bit the Malfoy wife you are." Pressing a kiss to her neck, he moved to his dresser, snapping his cufflinks into place.
Hermione turned around, her forehead creased into a deep frown, watching her husband finish getting ready.
"Why do you do that?" she asked, a slight edge to her voice.
Draco hummed his reply, as he fashioned his tie into the perfect Windsor knot.
"Try to mold me into something I am not," she continued, the edge in her voice sharpening.
Draco walked into the bedroom, seating himself on the edge of their bed, pulling his shoes on. "What are you talking about, Hermione?" he asked distractedly, his tone a little bored.
Hermione followed him into the bedroom, her hands on her hips. "Try to mold me into a Pureblooded wife," she elaborated.
Draco looked up from where he was tying his shoes, stunned. "What? Hermione, I love you, but darling, you are crazy."
Hermione glared daggers at him, anger rising in her chest. "Then what was that comment about being a Malfoy wife?"
Draco frowned, trying to recall what he had said. Realising his words, he chuckled. "Darling, it was nothing. We have been married seven years, of course you are a Malfoy wife; that is all I meant- and that the dress looks stunning…"
"And is befitting my station. Yeah, Draco; I got what you meant," Hermione spat, turning on her heel and striding back into their walk-in closet.
Draco stood up, brushing down his suit, before following Hermione into the closet. Seeing her removing the dress his eyes widened with shock. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"What does it look like?" she retorted, removing the straps, allowing the garment to pool like quicksilver at her feet, leaving her standing there in her silver heels and matching Emerald silk strapless bra, thong and suspenders.
Draco's physiology betrayed him, his cock hardening with arousal as he glared at her sunkissed skin.
"Look, Hermione, I don't want to fight with you, not tonight. We have guests arriving in twenty minutes. You do what you like," he huffed, suppressing his burning desire.
"That's fine, you go greet our guests. Take Celeste, I am sure you will both enjoy that," she called over her shoulder as Draco departed.
Her words slammed into his heart, stopping him in his tracks. Turning around, he strode back into the closet as Hermione pulled a simple silver backless gown from a hanger.
"For the last time, Hermione, I am not having an affair. I love you," Draco hissed, anger swelling in his chest.
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to acknowledge his words. She was tired of having the same argument constantly, even if she only had herself to blame for the words spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them. She hated feeling insecure, but with her husband away on business so much with only his assistant, it was hard not to allow the nagging voice in the back of her head to get louder until it was a constant battle between them.
Behind her, Draco growled in frustration at her lack of acknowledgement, storming from the bedroom and slamming the door for good measure.
oOoOoOoOo
They had successfully ignored each other for the best part of the night, not that it was noticed by their guests, with the one exception being her partner at the MLE and her husband's best friend, Theo Nott.
As she sipped champagne, off to one side of their ballroom, Theo pushed away from the oak panel wall where he had been standing in the shadows behind her.
"Fighting again are we?" he inquired, one eyebrow raised as he brought his tumbler of Firewhiskey to his lips.
Hermione clasped her hand to her chest. "Dear God, will you not skulk in dark corners like that, Theo. You gave me a fright," she complained, pouting.
Theo rolled his eyes. "Yes, the soon-to-be-appointed Head of the MLE is frightened by little old me," he drawled sarcastically.
Hermione's eyes drifted over the room, settling on her husband who was laughing a bit too raucously at some, no doubt, not even funny story Anthony Goldstein was telling their group. Spotting Celeste by his side, her eyes narrowed into a glare as the young witch visibly hung from his every word.
"Careful, Granger, you will burn the witch with that glare," Theo smirked, as Hermione threw him a look of disdain before returning her focus.
"Malfoy," she ground out angrily.e
Theo chuckled again, "No, as much as he induces, and oft deserves such looks, that is definitely directed at his assistant."
Hermione swatted his arm, causing him to spill his drink on his jacket. "No, stop calling me Granger," she instructed.
Theo frowned. "But I have always called you Granger. It's what is says on the plaque on your door."
"Yes, at work," she snapped, grabbing another drink from a passing waiter. "Do I look like I am at work right now?"
Theo considered the statement, scrutinising her carefully. "I'm not sure, you get that same crazed look about you at work," he smirked, correcting himself when she rounded on him dangerously. "I mean, that same level of intensity," he chuckled, before holding up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I can see you're not in the mood tonight, I'll go wind up your husband instead," he informed her backing away.
oOoOoOoOo
She smiled cordially at the guests as she made her way across the room to the table of glasses charmed to cascade with champagne. Curling her fingers around the stem of a glass, she was about to bring it to her lips when she felt a finger trail down her spine seductively. Desire betrayed the anger that was flowing through her veins, causing a fire to ignite, liquid heat pooling in her lower abdomen. She knew her husband's touch instinctively, as though his being was somehow inextricably linked to her own, his fingers belonging on her skin. Everything he was, was hers and likewise, so too everything she was, was his.
Closing her eyes, she breathed in his intoxicating cologne as he grazed her shoulder with his teeth, forcing her to bite back the moan that threatened to escape her throat.
"Stop it Draco, I am still angry," she told him, unmoving.
"I know," he whispered, his lips hot on her ear. "Angry sex is hot sex," he told her and it was all she could do not to whimper, her knees, weakened by his words, threatening to give way.
"Sir, sorry to interrupt, but it's almost midnight," Celeste's words breaking through her lust filled haze, causing her to whip around angrily, thrusting the champagne into her husband's chest, spilling it on his crisp white dress shirt.
"Run along, darling," she spat, "Wouldn't want to keep your guests waiting," she sneered, her inner Slytherin shining through. If he wasn't so hurt and infuriated, he would be proud of her. Turning around, he made to follow his wife, but she had disappeared into the crowd that made it's way to the French windows to watch the fireworks from the terrace.
oOoOoOoOo
"Your husband loves you very much," Celeste's reflection told Hermione as she repaired her makeup in the bathroom mirror.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at the witch. "Thank you, but I do not need you to tell me how my husband feels, I am his wife after all," Hermione retorted unkindly.
Celeste blushed slightly. "I know you think we are having an affair, but I promise you that we are not, Mrs. Malfoy."
Hermione stared at the girl, shocked by her candour.
The young witch looked down at her feet, before looking up, her blush deepening. "It's not Mister Malfoy I am attracted to," she confessed shyly.
Hermione turned around, staring at the girl for a moment before she realised the implication of her words.
"Oh," she replied, chastising herself internally for not following it up with something more profound. "Oh," she repeated, softly. "I owe you an apology," Hermione told her, reddening with shame.
"It's okay," Celeste replied shyly.
"No, it's not. I have been horrible to you and it wasn't fair of me. I've been a bitch," Hermione told her honestly.
Celeste shrugged. "It is what it is," she sighed, looking back at her feet.
Hermione touched her hand to the young witches arm. "New Year, New beginnings," she told her. "I promise to be less of a bitch and more of your friend."
Celeste nodded, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I had a lovely time tonight, thank you for inviting me," she told her before making her way towards the door. As her hand curled around the doorknob, Hermione spoke.
"Celeste, I mean it. I am sorry-and you are very welcome."
Celeste smiled at her before slipping out of the room.
oOoOoOoOo
Draco stood on the snow covered gravel driveway, waving to the last of their guests as they departed in their carriages. Feeling her hand slide into his, he turned to Hermione, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
"So it turns out, I am a bit of a bitch," she confessed, flashing him a lopsided smile as he took off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders.
"You are not a bitch, you just have insecurity issues," he told her, chewing his bottom lip, considering his words. "And after everything, everything we have been through to get to here, Hermione Malfoy, who wouldn't?"
Leading her back into the house, he closed the door, taking her through to the ballroom.
"I didn't get to dance with my wife tonight," he explained as she looked up at him confused.
Giggling, she allowed him to remove his jacket, draping it over the back of one of the chairs, before taking her hand.
Lifting his hand, he wandlessly commanded the charmed instruments to begin playing once more before his hand settled on her waist, leading her in a waltz. Together, they danced, smiling at each other, reminded of why they loved the other as much as they did. When the waltz ended, Hermione rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed to a slower song, his fingers working magic up her spine as he held her.
When the music ended, he pulled her towards a chair, dropping into it before tugging her, giggling, into his lap, arms wrapping securely around her waist.
"I know we said this last year, Hermione, but I want us to start a family," he told her sincerely. "I am more than ready to be a father."
Hermione lifted her hand to his cheek, pressing her lips to his in a soft kiss. He returned the gesture in one act of forgiveness.
"New Year, new beginnings," she told him as she dropped her forehead to his.
"New Year, new beginnings," he echoed in agreement, bringing her fingertips to his lips, kissing them reverently.
No matter what the New Year had in store for them, she was sure they would face it together, stronger.