Draco stands just outside of his home. He takes a deep breath, and fixes the knot of his tie. He dusts off lint that isn't there and tries his best to mentally prepare for what's on the other side of the the heavy wooden door in front of him.
He loves Hermione, he really does. He married her didn't he? They have two kids together don't they? He loves her, every bit of her. But sometimes he just wants to grab her by the face and yell, "are you mental!?"
He'd figured out what was going on more than a week ago. She'd left out the invoice for one hundred silver balloons, specially ordered with 'Happy Birthday Draco' dancing across them. But he pretended not to notice and instead began trying to drop small, subtle hints that he absolutely did not like surprises.
She didn't get them.
A few days later she received an alarming number of owls, and not once did she open a letter in front of him. She just tried not to smile and ran off to her office. But he kept quiet, hoping that maybe it could possibly be something else.
Then his mother sent him a letter. It read as usual for most of it, how she was doing, updates on his father, and questions about the kids; but then she'd signed it, "see you soon, love, mother" and he almost balled up the parchment right then and there.
"Hermione, love," he called, projecting his voice towards the stairs. Moments later she came gliding in as innocent as could be, strategically carrying their youngest on her hip.
"Yes?" she asked, a smile on her lips as she bounced their daughter. Any annoyance he had for her melted away, how could it not?
"I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight," he said, instead of confronting her as planned. If she was bent on throwing this party, then he would just have to grin and bear it, and make sure it didn't happen again.
The next day Potter stopped by his office asked what size shoes he wore.
And then Pansy owled to ask if he still used those old cuff-links he had.
And then even his sweet little Scorpius enthusiastically told him how excited for the party he was.
He takes another deep breath and puts a hand on the door knob, bracing himself for the yelling and cheering and the general nerve wrecking energy associated with parties.
The front hall is dark, but then, he expects it to be. It wouldn't be a surprise if he saw every one as soon as he stepped in, now would it?
"Hermione!" he calls, setting his work bag by the door. "Scorp," he tries when Hermione doesn't answer. Scorpius was always ready to yell across the house. But he's met with silence. "Andy?" he throws out, as a last ditch effort as obviously their one year old wouldn't be responding to him in any kind of loquacious manner.
He rubs his temples. They were really playing into this whole surprise thing, weren't they? He heads to the dining room, figuring if they would be anywhere, it would be there.
But instead of balloons and music and everyone he's ever met yelling at him, he's met with his wife, standing in front of the table with her hair done up and his favorite dress on. Behind her the table is set for two and the food is already laid out and it smells amazing. She smiles at his disbelief.
"You didn't honestly think I was throwing you a surprise party, did you? I think I know you a bit better than that," she says, a laugh in her voice. He laughs and closes the space between them.
"You always did keep me on my toes, Granger," he says, before leaning down to kiss her.
