This epilogue didn't exist at first but when I was done I decided we all needed a peek into their lives down the road. Enjoy! :)
Two Years Later
He couldn't kill the girl.
But Merlin, he was half a second away from it anyway.
His girl, his mate, his cosmic fluke, was glaring at him from across the room. He could feel the waves of anger radiating off her.
Not that he was particularly happy with her either.
They were at Weasley's wedding. That was the biggest cosmic fluke of all. Somehow while commiserating about how terrible Draco and Hermione were as a couple, Ron and Immogene had ended up together. The wedding was a blown up affair, a ridiculous and over-the-top spectacle. There were live peacocks. Draco snorted. It wasn't entirely Immogene's fault. The poor girl probably didn't even know how to spell "subtle".
He caught Hermione's eye and knocked back another gulp of whiskey. He felt her fury immediately and he smirked. That was the one good thing about the absurd wedding, at least: the alcohol was phenomenal. He took another long swig for good measure.
She stalked over to him at that.
"Now you're just gloating," she hissed.
"I'm just enjoying the wedding," he smirked. "Weddings are beautiful things. I may not get my own so I might as well enjoy this one."
"Technically you—"
Technically, they were married. Better than married, really. He knew that. But he wanted everyone else to know it.
He had used that line the last time they had argued about it and she had accused him of being a dog pissing on a fire hydrant to mark its territory and she had no intentions of being a fire hydrant, thank you very much.
"I don't want it to be a technicality," he ground out.
"I don't want to have this argument here," she spat back.
They were speaking in quiet undertones, leaning close together but not touching. It amused him that from the outside it would look like they were flirting. It annoyed him that he knew if he reached out even an inch to touch her, his anger would disappear and he'd be apologizing instantly.
He wouldn't let them go to bed angry but he was fine with arguing with her until then.
"You didn't even want to come," she added.
That was true. But could you blame him? Who would want to go to their soul mate's ex's wedding? Especially since he had eventually pulled out of her what had repulsed her so much the night of his mother's garden party. Draco hadn't even been with her then, but he still wanted to throttle the red head on sight.
That was how the argument had started. He hadn't wanted to go and they had gone around and around on it for days and finally he conceded so she would sleep with him again even though he was still secretly plotting to get out of it. All his plans had fallen through, though. As a last resort he'd tried to seduce her that morning as she got dressed.
It had almost worked. She was coming down from her high and reaching for his trousers to repay the favor when the grandfather clock—his mother's worst gift ever—down the hall had started to chime. It had brought her back to reality just long enough.
She had pushed him away then and gave him an accusing look before shoving him out of her closet and hurrying to finish getting ready.
And then she had put on the red dress.
It couldn't have been an accident. He took it personally that she hadn't worn it for him and now she was wearing it for Weasley's wedding.
It was enough to make him very cross.
She, in part, was angry at him for being so cross and making them so late they almost missed the vows and now for drinking. And for evanesco-ing her panties right before they apparated. It had been a last-minute petty attempt at revenge since he was still sporting an erection. He had been kind enough to warn her before apparating them, though, at least.
"I'm here now, aren't I?" He said and raised another drink to toast to her silently.
She took it out of his hands. "Enough."
The physical contact of her fingers against his nearly did him in. He didn't resist as she pushed him out of the room and down the hall until she found a suitable room to shove him in.
She tossed him against a wall and it bit into his hips.
"You are the most insufferable prat," she spat. She hit him again and he pushed her arms away and she fought him off. Her hands met his stomach again and he tried to shove them off but she persisted and then was pulling off the buttons of his shirt and he stopped resisting.
She was attacking his buttons with rigor and he took his opportunity to reach the zipper at the side of her cursed dress. She let him pull it over her head when she was down with the buttons and he took great satisfaction in throwing it to the floor. He was also quite pleased her panties were already gone.
After, they lay entwined on the floor. She was absentmindedly playing with buttons on the cuff of his shirt, still clasped around his wrist. She'd be impatient.
"You're lucky I'm hormonal right now," she told him.
He laughed. "You're always horny regardless."
She glared at him but went back to the buttons.
She was being too pensive. She wasn't angry anymore but she also wasn't feeling as amorous or happy as she usually did post-coitus.
He nudged her shoulder with his elbow. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing."
"Hermione—"
"I think I'm just sleepy." She burrowed her face into his side and he rubbed circles on her back reflexively. "Do you think we can just go home?"
He snorted. "There are no less than 500 people here. I doubt they'll notice we're gone."
She giggled at that. "Can you apparate us home from here?"
"Yeah. But you'll have to let me up enough to get our clothes first."
She consented to roll off of him but continued to laze on the floor and watched him collect their clothing. When he had it all he turned back to help her to her feet.
She leaned against him heavily. "Ready?" He asked. She nodded and with a crack they were in their bedroom.
She took a long moment to pull away from him. He pressed a kiss to her hair before he let go and she disappeared into their bathroom.
He was surprised when she reappeared only a few minutes later and fell into bed. He knew she'd have different energy levels now but the difference from an hour ago was dramatic. He wasn't tired but brushed his teeth and scooted into the bed next to her.
He brushed her hair out of her face.
"Hermione, love, are you sure you're ok?" He whispered.
"I'm just thinking," she said groggily.
"About?" he coaxed. His witch began feeling apprehensive.
She opened her eyes and studied his face a moment. "I'm going to marry you," she told him matter-of-factly.
He nearly laughed. "Then you should stop saying no when I ask you to."
"I want to ask you instead."
He made at face at that. "Hermione, we're soul mates and we're having a baby together. Why can't you just say yes?"
She pushed away from him a little at that. "That's exactly why. We were together within a month of your terribly-worded declaration and I had moved in with you within the week of that and it's barely been a year and we're having a baby."
He felt his heart clench. This felt suspiciously like his mate rejecting him. "Are you not happy our life?" He asked enough though the words hurt.
She shook her head quickly and he felt relief. "No. It's not that at all." She reached out her hand and pressed her palm against his jaw. "I'm very happy with our life. I love you, and I'm excited for our baby. But it happened so fast and even though I'm happy with it all I never really had a choice in it. I want to ask you to marry me. When I'm ready for it."
He kissed her soundly. "Ok," he whispered, "ok."
Her wave of happiness swept over him like walking into their warm home on a chilly night. She kissed him again.
She fell asleep not long after but he stayed up, running his hands through her hair long after she had begun snoring softly.
Two years ago, he'd be single and convinced he was going to hit stage 5 and die alone. Now they were together and so stupidly, ridiculously happy, and they were having a baby in seven months.
Thank Merlin he hadn't killed her.
