The Golden Rule and the Broken Road Chapter Seven
The funny thing about words is there's so many ways to express the same emotion. The sad thing about words is sometimes you just can't seem to find the right one.
Fred Weasley hated words. He hated the sympathetic mutterings and the hearty congratulations, he hated the unintelligible cooing people were so fond of using towards new babies. Fred Weasley hated how weak words made him.
Hermione Weasley wasn't a big fan of words either, she hated how fake they were. Apologies one minute, cruel whispers the next. She hated the way people phrased things towards her, as if she might break at any moment. As if her vibrant little boy was dead and buried.
Most people spoke about Oliver Thomas Weasley, very few people spoke to the little boy. By the time he reached a month old his fate was known far and wide in the wizarding world. No one could pinpoint the source, who had in the end sold the families secret, but it didn't matter much, the fact was everyone knew and everyone had a reaction.
Including Hermione's partner and hesitant friend, one Draco Malfoy.
Anyone who knew the Malfoy's knew the only thing they abhorred more than "mudbloods" were squibs. After all, what was more shameful than a non-magic child born to a wizarding family? It was shameful at best, scandalous and inconceivable at worst.
Draco had been at work when the news reached him by way of the Daily Prophet, splashed across the front page in bold purple script, A Squib for the Weasley's. His revulsion was quickly stamped out by an emotion that disturbed him more, sorrow.
He was meant to go over Hermione's that afternoon, to compare notes on their giant case and work on preparations for his solo trip to the mountains to find Slinkhard. He had actually looked forward to seeing the infant, the birth of his own son had changed his mind about babies as a whole and he found he quite liked them, in small doses.
Now, as he made his way up the street to the Weasley's Bayswater apartment, he didn't know what to say.
He walked slowly to the flat, trying to prolong seeing his partners face for as long as possible, but all too soon he found himself standing stock still in front of their doorway, hand posed to knock. Before he could the door flew open and he was roughly pulled inside, narrowly missing being hit by the slamming door.
"Bloody 'ell, what the -"
A hand clamped over his mouth shut him up quickly as he looked down into the shining brown eyes trained on his own. Hermione looked pissed.
"You should know not to dawdle, reporters have been about all day, trying to catch a glimpse of the infamous squib." She said the last part with a considerable amount of malice, only removing her hand when Draco began to pry it off his mouth.
"I have us set up in the kitchen, want tea?" She asked, bustling past him and into the bright kitchen.
The flat didn't seem messy enough if his memory served. Astoria wasn't the best housekeeper, but even with the help of house elves their home had been a mess in the first few weeks of Scorpious's life.
Hermione's home, in contrast, was clean and tidy, everything put in its right place and all the surfaces glistening as if they had just been washed.
But of course they had, Hermione had never had Draco to her home before and with all the scrutiny on her already, it was in her very nature to make her home the epitome of perfection. Draco shook his head at the notion, chuckling slightly resulting in a withering glare from Hermione.
"Gideon and Oliver are napping so could you please keep it down until I put up a silencing charm around the kitchen?"
Draco raised an eyebrow, smirking, "How loud do you plan on being?"
Hermione snorted, "Leave it to you to still be a smartass."
"Was I supposed to be otherwise?"
"No, I just, I appreciate it Malfoy, really I do."
Draco nodded and responded, "It's Draco. I'm not my father."
"No, you're not." She murmured, lost in thought for a minute as she contemplated just how different Malfoy senior and Malfoy junior were. The elder Malfoy would have spat on her child given the chance, Draco seemed almost, sympathetic.
Sensing post-pregnancy hormones flaring up Draco quickly changed the subject, "So how 'bout those giants eh? Bloody things are impossible to pinpoint. I've flown over several times and nothing."
The two sat down side-by-side at the table, already covered in maps and paperwork, and began to work. Draco would need to get to the giants soon to discuss the prophecy and time was of the essence. Eros Slinkhard and a giant army was nothing to dawdle about with.
"They won't be easy to find Draco, that's the point. They can't have muggles and the such stumbling upon them. From what I've surmised from past encounters, they tend to stick to the lower mountains, hills more accurately. Hagrid's drawn several maps for us, but he can't be sure they'll be in the same places."
"What's this right here?" He asked, pointing at a particularly large X on one of the maps.
"A giant's version of a maternity ward. Grwap was born here, as was Eros and a lot of other important figures in the giant world. Hagrid thinks this is our best chance of finding Eros."
"What man would willingly place himself amongst a dozen birthing giants?" Draco asked, his nose snarling at the thought.
Hermione merely rolled her eyes, men, "Eros is trying to breed a giant army, some of these could be his children Draco, and all of them are potential recruits."
"They're babies, giants true, but still babies, they won't be of use to him for years."
"I agree, but he already has a substantial base for his army, he just needs insurance, back-up for the inevitable losses. Eros is smart Draco, smarter than we first thought."
"Great, a smart version of Hagrid, just what we need."
Hermione elbowed him in response, smiling triumphantly when he grimaced and rubbed his tender ribs. He often forgot her love for the half-giant.
"So what do we do?"
"Listen closely Draco..."
xXx
Fred apparated straight into the nursery after work, he knew Malfoy would be over working with Hermione and he didn't relish in the triumphant smirk he was bound to receive from the younger man. Draco Malfoy would no doubt be very pleased with a Weasley's misfortune.
His heart sank a little as he listened to the two interact, Hermione had forgotten to put up a silencing charm. They seemed at ease with one another, like best friends, like she had been with Harry and Ron in her younger years, how they still were on their good days.
It was foolish to be jealous, he was the love of her life, her husband, but he wanted to be her best friend.
"I never thought I'd say this Granger, but you're a genius."
Fred had always known that, from the first time he had seen her, sitting straight as a board on the stool in front of the entire school, waiting to be sorted, she had looked so sure of herself, so wise for an eleven year old.
"You aren't so terrible yourself, Malfoy."
He wasn't quite so agreeable on that statement.
He listened to retreating footsteps, hurried goodbyes and then the familiar slam of the front door. Not even a minute later she was kneeling down beside his chair, cooing at the baby sleeping in his arms.
"I didn't hear you come in love, why didn't you come say hullo?"
Fred gently placed the baby into her arms, making room so that she could sit on his lap, "I wanted to check on Ollie and Gideon, besides you two seemed busy."
Hermione nodded, leaning back into his chest so he could wrap his arms around both her and the baby. This was his favorite time of the day, the quiet before Gideon woke up from his nap.
He loved his older son, but the little boy was a lightening bolt of energy, forever going. Sometimes it was nice to have a bit of quiet with his wife.
"Why don't you put Ollie back to bed and come down the hall with me love?" He implored, his hands ghosting over her hips.
She nodded, wordlessly and stood, placing the baby in the crib before allowing him to lead her down the hall and into the privacy of their own bedroom.
Their kisses were tender and patient, a far cry from their usual raw, uninhibited encounters. Wrapped around one another, their bodies pressed taught against one another on the bed, Fred let his hands trace small circles on the soft flesh of her lower back, Hermione whimpered into his mouth in response. His touch had always been her undoing.
She played with the collar of his shirt in response, lightly pushing him down so that she was on top, her legs on either side of him, straddling his stomach.
He liked her like this, dominant, controlling, he found it undeniably erotic.
Leaning over him she afforded him an ample view of what was under her shirt and he was surprised and happy to find she wasn't wearing a bra, it was a perverse turn-on, knowing his wife had been sitting for hours with another man, so close to naked, waiting for him. Like an impatient schoolboy he found himself tugging at her shirt, impatiently pulling it over her head until her breasts hung free above him, heavy with milk, her nipples hard to his touch. He broke away from her kiss and raised his mouth up to the left one, suckling gently before giving it a little nip causing his wife to moan in ecstacy. He gave the right one the same treatment before returning to her eager lips. She released the weight from her hands and they were pressed against one another again, only his mostly unbuttoned shirt and their trousers separating them now, far too many barriers for Fred's liking.
Hermione, sensing her husbands annoyance, began the tedious work of divesting them of their clothes. Like any man he enjoyed a strip tease every now and again, but right now he wanted nothing more than his wive's naked body below him, open and ready for him. So once free of their constraints he flipped her over perhaps a little too roughly and settled himself between the apex of her legs. She was so wet he almost lost it when he positioned herself at her opening. A minute later he was all the way inside her, groaning heavily at the sensation. This was the first time they had been together in months and the feeling was pure heaven to him.
Their coupling was slow and steady, a gentle rocking they had perfected in their few years of marriage. Hermione was not one for words and instead moaned encouragingly until at last she let out a guttural scream and clenched around him, spasming briefly before falling limp, his own release followed quickly after.
Fred collapsed, knowing she wouldn't mind the weight and buried his head in her neck, "Never leave me Mione, I love you too much, I wouldn't survive."
"Never," she promised, her hands resting on the lower part of his back as they lay in silence.
Just as he was regaining the energy for round two the all too familiar mewls of a newborn carried down the hall, sighing perceptibly Fred rolled off his wife.
"And then reality called." He said solemnly, like a man to his execution.
Hermione laughed, "I'm surprised we got as much time as we did."
xXx
Ok, short I know, but please allow me to explain myself. I had the story FINISHED on my old laptop when the stupid piece of, well you know, decided to explode, quite literally. I was typing when I heard a fizz, a pop and then my computer started smoking. Needless to say I was more than a little depressed after this and without any means of updating my stories. So basically I am a lousy writer and a disgrace to the world of fanfiction, for this I express my deepest condolences. However, after many many many hours of minimum wage work I have finally got myself a brand spanking new computer and I'm back! I love my story and I would never leave it hanging like it appeared I had. Sorry that I was gone without explanation for so long but please forgive me and I hope you enjoyed this brief, but necessary chapter. I know its painfully short but I needed to get back into the swing of things first. Expect the next one to be quite a bit longer! Lots of love, xoxoxo - anarchyartist23