Thank you again for your lovely reviews. I truly enjoy reading your thoughts. I know you have tons of choices of stories to read so I'm always thankful when someone chooses to read mine. Now, it's nearly midnight here for me (CST) so here's the next chapter before Christmas Eve. The next won't be up until Christmas day. Please read and review! :)

Seven

"You can sleep on the sofa tonight," Hermione announced as they emerged from the floo in her flat.

Draco groaned loudly, not bothering to hide it. "Love, it's not like I could talk her out of it. I think she made significant progress regarding our marriage for one evening. Can't we just let her have this one?"

"You can do whatever you like," Hermione told him flippantly as she stepped out of her heels and bent to pick them up on her way to the bedroom. "However, I'm not to be used as some showpiece for your mother to flaunt amongst all of wizarding society as an appeasement for her not getting to approve of me or our marriage."

"Hermione," he pleaded as he followed a few paces behind.

The bedroom door shut abruptly in his face and he heard the lock click into place before he felt her wards being cast.

"Sofa, Draco."

He growled to himself, silently cursing her willful personality. There was no point in trying to break through her wards. He'd tried that once before and just ended up making a fool of himself.

It was late and with nothing else to do, Draco stripped to his underwear before he stretched out on the sofa. He could have spited her and transfigured it into a small bed but felt he'd enjoy it better when he could complain of a stiff neck once she was feeling regretful for punishing him so. And she usually did.

He stole the small throw blanket she kept on the back of it and stretched it across him. It barely reached his chest and he hoped he got a cold as well. That would show her.

Draco drifted to sleep sometime in the wee hours of the morning. He tossed and turned for a while before finally passing out. When he woke the next morning, he was rather confused. He felt the heavy warmth of another body at his side and her head on his chest. Her curls were tickling his chin as her head rose and fell with each breath he took.

"Decide to forgive me in the middle of the night," he asked in his raspy morning voice. He did indeed have a stiff neck but wasn't inclined to ruin his current situation by telling her so.

When his hand caressed the length of her he could reach, he surmised that she'd worn only his stolen jumper and her underwear to bed.

"Shut up," Hermione muttered against his chest.

Draco smirked as he ran his fingers through her wild hair. "Admit it or not, we both know it wasn't my fault."

She propped herself up on his chest and blinked at him sleepily. "I'll admit nothing," she muttered before she climbed over him and stood.

Draco watched in mild amusement as she stretched her arms over her head, her back popping in the process. He appreciated the sight of her legs and the peek of her stomach he was treated to in the process.

Hermione dropped her arms, oblivious to his interest, when she heard the pecking of a bird at her window. She hurried over to the waiting owl and took the rolled up paper from its beak. She glanced at the clock on her mantle as she unfolded it, noting that it was blessedly early still and she didn't have to rush in her efforts to make it to work on time.

"Bloody hell," she breathed when she caught sight of the front page.

Draco kicked off the blanket, stretching his own back as he made his way to her. He glanced over her shoulder to read.

"Shit," he hissed.

Any hopes Hermione still had about a quiet return to the Ministry were completely dashed after she'd read the article in the Daily Prophet. She'd pushed Draco back through her floo with distinct instructions to handle his mother or she would.

Despite her irritation and nerves, Hermione managed to hold her head high as she entered the atrium. She ignored pointed stares and whispers as she entered a lift, managing a glare for one group of gossiping women who were being less than discreet in their whispering.

"Morning, Hermione," Melinda smiled apologetically when she made it to the safety of her office.

Hermione sighed heavily and stopped at Melinda's desk to compose herself. Her shoulders sagged and she felt like she'd not slept at all. Truth be told, she hadn't. Not until she gave up on Draco's exile and joined him on the sofa did she get any sleep. Knowing he was so close now and that she no longer had to spend nights alone made her feel foolish for punishing him for his mother's overbearing nature, even if she refused to admit his innocence to his face.

"Melinda, do me a favor, would you?"

"Scan all of your owls and turn all visitors away," the witch guessed with a grin.

She gave her an appreciative smile and nodded. "Thank you."

Melinda nodded and pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "I should warn you. I wasn't able to stop the two of them from waiting in your office. I figured you wouldn't mind though."

Hermione snorted and made her way towards her office. When she entered, she found Harry and Ron each perched on one of the chairs opposite her desk. Harry was twirling his wand anxiously while Ron appeared to be finishing an egg sandwich, not minding where he dropped his crumbs.

"Must you make a mess of my office, Ronald," she chastised. She dropped her bag and took her seat with a sigh.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled and shoved the rest of it into his mouth. He vanished the crumbs with a wave of his wand.

Harry stowed his wand in his auror robes and gave her a lopsided smile. "We figured you'd need support this morning after we saw the article."

"And we want to hear how dinner with his mum went," Ron added. "Ow, Harry!" He rubbed his arm where Harry had elbowed him sharply.

Hermione rolled her eyes at them and did her best to relax a bit in her chair. The truth was that she felt like her whole body was pulled taut like a rubber band waiting to snap.

"What's there to tell that you likely can't guess? She was pompous and resistant at first and then she oddly apologized after she learned about what I had to do with my parents during the war." She frowned as she recalled the moment when his mother had softened. "It's not my blood she was taking issue with anymore but me. She didn't have the normal opportunity to groom me," she made air quotes with her hands. "And Draco had to fight off her insistence that I engage in some of the more archaic female pursuits regarding running a household."

Harry gave her a stunned look and glanced at Ron. "Well, that at least explains why she ran a full page article on the front page stating her public acceptance of your marriage to Malfoy and flaunting your official introduction as a couple at their annual Christmas ball."

"Sounds bloody horrible if you ask me," Ron mumbled. "Plus, there's the fact that it's Malfoy to consider."

Hermione pursed her lips in disapproval but chose not to berate him this time. She was just irritated enough with the Malfoy family to let it slide.

"Of course, I expect there's no getting out of this," she sighed dejectedly.

Harry gave her a sympathetic smile and nudged Ron to do the same. "Well, perhaps if you indulge her this once then that will be the end of it and you can get on with your lives."

Hermione snorted at him as she began spreading out her parchment. "I highly doubt that she'll be satisfied with just the one obnoxious showing. I'm honestly afraid that if we indulge her once then she'll only press us for more."

"The next thing you know she'll be advertising your heir," Ron snickered.

"What is it with the magical community and my bloody fertility," she hissed.

Harry and Ron both flinched at her tone and shared a confused look.

"Probably best not to ask," Harry advised in a whisper.

The rest of her day didn't get any better. While Melinda was able to fend off any curious gossips who wandered by, it didn't stop anyone from confronting her in the canteen when she met Harry and Ron for lunch.

"The audacity of some people," she muttered over lunch after no less than three women and two men asked her if she could get them an invitation to the Malfoy's annual Christmas ball.

"We're going again this year," Ron asked Harry.

"You can bet your broomsticks you are," Hermione answered for him. She pointed her fork at them individually. "I'll not be made to suffer through this with only Draco as support."

"At least the food was good," Ron shrugged in answer.

And she oddly hadn't heard a word from her husband all day. The realization irked her some when she left her office well after five. It was his family which was the center of all of her current grief after all. The least the man could do was grovel a bit.

Hermione took the long way home, choosing to walk from the Ministry instead of taking the floos. Bundled up in her coat and scarf, she had to smile as she walked through the heavily decorated neighborhood. Lights adorned houses and Christmas trees could be seen through windows. Snowflakes swirled in the air and she wished that Draco was by her side to enjoy it.

He could be terribly romantic when he tried. It had shocked her when they'd first started dating. He brought little trinkets to Paris each time he returned. Nothing of great cost, as it seemed he knew she didn't care about his wealth. His gifts were usually more thoughtful. Old books, origami cats charmed to touch noses as they sat on her book shelf, or flowers spelled to duplicate when they began to wilt—it had been his thoughtfulness that had made her first start to fall in love with him.

She smiled at the doorman of her building as he held the heavy door open for her. The lift was empty when she entered. She began to unloop her scarf as she watched the floors pass.

Hermione glanced around her as she approached her door and discreetly dropped the wards on her door before using her key to get inside. The flat was silent when she entered and she sighed heavily. This had been exactly why she'd decided to leave Paris. She'd been so sick of being alone and without her husband.

She dropped her bag and coat on her sofa before she rounded the corner and stopped cold. Draco sat at her small dining table with his arms crossed and an all too familiar smirk curling the edges of his mouth. He'd lost his jacket and waistcoat, and sat in his slacks and oxford shirt.

After Hermione managed to drag her eyes from him, she finally registered the warm light in the room from all of the candles along the table and shelves. The smell of her favorite dish from home finally made it to her nose and she took a great gulp of air, releasing a satisfied sigh.

Draco stood from the table finally and came to stand in front of her. She craned her neck to look up at him, completely taken with his gentle touch when he engaged her in a soft kiss.

"Consider this my apology for my mother's overbearing behavior," Draco whispered against her lips. "Also my plea to please indulge her for just the ball and then I'll be able to negotiate with her." The tone of his voice changed and she could hear the teasing within it, "She's accepted you though. Just like I told you she would."

Hermione snorted and pushed as his chest to gain some space. She couldn't think straight when he invaded her space like that. She didn't have the heart to tell him that his mother likely only accepted her because he wasn't giving her a choice.

She allowed him to lead her by the hand to the table and sat when he pulled her chair out. "It smells just like my mother's shepherd's pie," she sighed.

Draco smirked as he served her first and then himself. "That's because it is. Her chocolate cake, too."

Her eyes grew wide at that announcement. "Draco!"

He waved her off before pushed her fork towards her expectantly. "Oh, she was happy to do it when I showed up in their kitchen begging. She advised me that your father's roast is your second favorite for future reference but I think I'll have more trouble gaining his help should I ever need it."

Hermione rolled her eyes but felt irritation slipping when she tasted her first bite. "Fine," she muttered after a sip of wine. "But at least tell me you helped her and didn't just sit there and watch while she worked."

"Of course, I did," he retorted indignantly. "I'm not a lazy bum like Weasley. I'll have you know I iced that cake myself."

"Without magic," she drawled in challenge.

"Yes," he glared at her and took an angry bite of his meal. He chewed patiently and watched her as she settled into her own food. "So…am I forgiven?"

Hermione sighed and set her fork down carefully. "I'm sorry for blaming you, Draco. I know you can't control your mother."

Draco reached across the small table and held his hand out, palm up. He waited until she finally placed hers on top and he wrapped his fingers around it. He gave her a gentle squeeze as he brushed his thumb along her rings.

"Hermione, you know you come first now. I'm sorry we didn't get to go public with our relationship in our own way. I just think if we indulge her with this one thing then everything will be a lot smoother going forward."

She studied his hopeful expression and felt herself melting much as she had during their very first dinner. "Fine but only as long as she doesn't put a timer on my bloody uterus. I want children with you, Draco, but not tomorrow."

He snorted and nodded before he released her hand. Only half finished with her dinner, he watched in mild amusement as her eyes continued to track to the cake. He pulled his wand from his pocket and gave it a swift flick. A thin slice lifted from the confection and landed on a dessert plate next to her.

"Will chocolate cake earn me sex with my wife," he teased with a hopeful grin. "Just practice," he added when she glared at him. "I'm not trying to get you pregnant tonight."

"Merlin, you're a git," she grumbled before she took a large bite of cake.

Her moan caused Draco a bit of discomfort but she didn't torture him long. He was surprised to learn how much she loved sweets after they'd met again. It was always the best way to butter her up if he wanted a bit more of her affection.

Once she finished the slice, Hermione wasted no time in standing from the table. Draco was certain she was going to pass him up and his shoulders hunched in mild disappointment. However, he felt her hand grip the back of his collar and jerk him from his chair.

He grinned to himself as he stumbled behind her.