The second segment for the sneak peak!
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Chapter 2:
He swirled the liquid amber around in the crystal glass, eyeing it as a slow laugh spilled from his lips.
"Seriously, mate," Blaise tried and failed to pull a straight face. "How the fuck are you being asked to attend the annual ceremony for the rehabilitation of werewolves into society? You fucking hate werewolves especially after Greyback lived in your dungeons for over a year and yet you're ready to go to a bloody ball and sip champagne with them?!"
He scoffed, "By all means, I will not be sipping champagne with them and you should know that the only reason why I have to go is because of-"
"Ah yes," Blaise smirked into his glass. "Because of Granger. Sweet, naive, little Granger that has a bleeding heart that has saved the Wizarding World countless of times. I swear, Gryffindors and their disgusting morals make me want to vomit."
He chuckled at his companion's words, rolling his eyes as Blaise scrunched his nose in disgust. "You do know that Hermione and I have been married for twelve years yet you still refer to her by her maiden name, right? I mean it's not like I call Weaslette by her nickname anymore," he smirked, raising his eyebrows slightly as Blaise's eyes narrowed. "Oops," he drawled out, "it just slipped out. Speaking of which, how is your hellcat? She's carrying your sixth child, or wait, was it your fifth? I tend to forget after the shit load of baby shower invitations that pile up on my desk."
"You're hilarious," Blaise deadpanned. "I forgot how fucking funny you are with your-"
"You know for being the father of three children you have a terrible habit of not watching your mouth," his lips curled into a teasing grin. "Your back must be killing you from all the nights your wife shuns you to the couch."
Blaise erupted into laughter, tilting his head back against the leather seat. "I haven't shared a bed with my wife in four days. Talon has me sleeping in his bedroom because someone's son," he shot a pointed look at him, "just happened to tell him quite the story about a fucking basilisk that killed a girl. Do you know that now he wants no part of being sorted into Slytherin? My own son!"
"Let's not forget that it's not a story, Blaise," he reminded him with an eery calm. "It's not my fault that Hermione read to Scorpius the entire Hogwarts: A History before he could even speak. And, most importantly, it wasn't as if my son acted alone. You're eldest is just as much at fault as mine is."
Blaise opened his mouth to retort but just as he was about to speak, there was a pecking at the window.
"Who the hell would be writing to you, you old sod?"
With a sigh, he got up from his chair. "It's not for me. I hold my post until Monday mornings so that nothing disturbs my weekends."
"You have four day weekends," Blaise pointed out. "What if it's an emergency at one of the companies?"
He snorted in amusement. "That's why I hired you, mate. Being VP has it's perks and that just happens to be one of them. Besides, it's probably that blasted pen pal of hers," he spat venomously as he reached out to untie the letter from the owl.
Blaise took a large gulp from the crystal. "I can't believe you still let her talk to Krum. The whole wizarding community knows he still has the biggest fascination with her," he placed his glass down onto the table before straightening up. "Did you ever check if that rumor was true? The one where he had a portrait of her hanging in his bedroom?"
"Of course I did," he snapped. "And it was false, remember? I had to hire that woman to seduce him but he refused to sleep with her, only tried to show off that bloody mansion he has in Bulgaria as if it were something up to our standards. Nothing but a fucking shed," he mumbled, not seeing the smirk that Blaise shot in his direction.
"Maybe he has it in his private bathroom," Blaise shrugged. "Imagine the man taking a shower and having the portrait comment about his-"
"Blaise," Draco growled out in a warning but when his gaze glanced down at the name of the sender, he froze, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
"It's from Potter," he whispered more to himself than Blaise but he knew the later had heard him just as well.
Blaise's face contorted into anger at the name, shooting up from his seat to check for himself. "Why? He hasn't spoken to her in years ever since she married you. And now he sends her a letter out of the blue?"
He remained silent as he stared down at the letter. There was a large part of him that wanted to just throw it in the fireplace and keep it a secret between him and Blaise but then there was another part, a much larger part, that wanted to rip it open and see what the Scarhead had to say. He could feel his old feelings starting to bubble to the surface and he had to clench his jaw as he thought of the possibility of the Golden Trio reuniting.
It made him see red.
It made him so fucking angry.
Hermione had tried to reform their friendship for years after they had gotten married and eventually she stopped trying when it was apparent they were never going to reply back to her. Potter had seen their relationship as a betrayal and in the worst degree as possible. He hadn't been there when Hermione had told them, even though he had fought her tooth and nail, and he had to physically restrain himself from tracking them down and sending two killing curses their way when she had reappeared at their house in tears, sobbing into his arms for hours on end. However, Weasley had been a different story. The twat had tried desperately to make her come to her senses, even going as far to declare his undying love for her as if his proclamation would root her to the lump's freckled side. As if she would leave his side for the Weasel.
As if he would let her.
For months, his thoughts had plagued him, thinking that she had somehow resented him because of the reactions of her friends but she always coerced him. And then, by some miracle, probably thanks to Ginny, Hermione had found herself thinking less about the other two of the Golden Trio and more towards living her life the way she wanted to. Everything had been going perfect for the past decade but now...now Potter wanted to contact her? Why?
"Open it," Blaise whispered to him as if Hermione was right outside the door.
Without thinking twice, he turned it over and tore into it.
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The door closed behind him with a soft click as he walked into their bedroom. It was dark, lit only by the candelabra's on their nightstands, but his gaze immediately slid to her, drinking her in like he needed her for his survival. His eyes softened as he caught sight of her smiling at him through the reflection of their mirror while she brushed her damp hair, wearing her silk black robe that rested high on her thigh. The sight alone made the front of his pants tighten in anticipation, preparing for their ritual nightly routine, but the letter in his suit pocket was weighing him down in more ways than he would've liked.
He held his breath as she turned toward him, prowling towards him the way only a lover could do until he gently wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned back on their grand bed, taking her down with him as he sat. She was quick to perch herself on his lap, trapping him between her tight thighs as her arms wrapped around his neck. He wanted to melt into her touch; the smoothness of her soft skin, the rose water that fumed off of her in wafts, and the warmth that she provided him was tempting beyond imaginable. She was his beacon- his calling home that he threw himself on every time he arrived to the manor. She was his everything, his reason to live and continue with the cycle of life that he had once been eager to leave. Those had been dark days. Dark, dreary days that seemed as if they were endless, ready to wallow him up at the first wrong movement. There were still days that when he woke up to an empty bed, there would be a heart wrenching panic that would shoot through his body. There would be long seconds where he felt as if he had dreamed it all up. That he was still days away from his Azkaban trial and Hermione was back with the Trio and as far away from him as possible. Even when he would walk through the Manor halls and become confronted with a chilling quiet, he would glance around as if Lord Voldemort or Aunt Bella would apparate right in front of him and strike him dead or worse, Hermione and Scorpius. Neither of them would be spared and that's what terrified him. He knew that it was foolish to think and act the way he did but living through a war tended to have its negative effects on a person. Times were vastly different than they were ten years ago and it was for the better for everyone. Perhaps not him entirely considering society hated him and his father, along with the other remaining Death Eaters that were either rotting in Azkaban or hiding away from the public.
Not him though. His trial had run, surprisingly, smooth. Much to everyone's bewilderment, Hermione and Potter had spoken for him, proclaiming that he was innocent and he had been quick to be released. At the time Malfoy Manor had been in strict ownership to the Aurors for investigation purposes and it had been Hermione that opened her doors for him. There had been rocky moments at the beginning, leaving the two of them nearly killing each other in the process, but somehow a relationship had formed between them. A strong relationship that practically left him following after her like a lost puppy, clinging onto her leg and begging for her to never let him go. Six months later he had propped himself down on one knee and asked the question he dreaded for weeks, but he had asked her anyways and that night had been one of the bests in his life. That had been the first time he had cried in her arms.
His mother had been immensely pleased, crying like he had, but he would never inform her on that bit of information. She had been so eager to move Hermione in as soon as possible that the older witch had even helped pack his future wife's belongings and move her into the Manor in less than twenty-four hours. It had taken his father some time to get used to the new ways of life but he had been glad to see Draco happy. And really, his father owed it to him after putting him in Voldemort's hands on more than enough occasions. Both of his parents had quickly made Hermione part of their small family and he still remembered the day that they cried together when informed of Hermione's pregnancy. Yes, stone cold proclaimed Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, had cried when Scorpius made his debut into the world and it had been beautiful.
Everything was perfect and it had been for years.
That was until Harry Potter decided to send his wife the letter. He was still at a loss of words, not truly knowing how to react but he knew he needed to tell Hermione that...
She moved to close the space between their lips but, for once in his life, he pulled away from her, reaching into his suit pocket to pull out Potter's letter instead of devouring his wife the way only a husband could do. He didn't meet her eyes as he pushed it towards her and watched as she analyzed the torn seam before turning it over.
It took only a few seconds for her to see Potter's name and when she did, a loud gasp escaped her tempting lips and he watched as a thousand emotions flittered across her face.
Her head shot up to him with wide eyes, desperately searching his face as if he could provide her with the answers she needed until her head tilted back down. Her fingers hesitantly trailed the torn seal before she slowly pulled the letter out.
He knew what the letter contained and he wished that he were the heartless bastard he had been in the past and just burned the damn thing. But he wasn't and even if he had been, there were certain lines one didn't cross especially when dealing with the deceased.
He should have never opened it and just burned it when it had arrived.
Where was his wife's time turner when he needed it?
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I will only add one more chapter for the sneak peak before I finish 'Hermione'.
