I have nothing witty to say today, but I do have a question for people who've lost their pets. How long did you wait before getting another? I have a cat who's grown up having another cat around, and now he's by himself. I just want him to have a buddy again.

Chapter 14
Draco was not happy.

Owls had appeared at their windows, doors, and sat on the power lines outside their house for a week. They avoided the letters successfully, except for one. Draco had recognized the owl, the parchment, the fine script, and black ink. Hands shook as he opened it, reading his father's scathing words. When he finished, he tossed it into the fire before Hermione had a chance to find out about it.

They'd gone out for a walk as fresh snow fell, and returned to their house with red cheeks and laughs that died on their lips when they approached the front door. The open front door. Hermione gripped his arm, feeling his wand beneath the sleeve, and relaxed minutely. Draco entered first, slipping his wand into his hand. "The Ministry won't be happy if you attack muggles," she whispered nervously.

"It isn't Muggles," he muttered, spotting his father seated at their dining room table. Hermione peered around him and gasped. "Out."

Lucius Malfoy smirked and rose from his seat before walking toward the pair slowly. "Is that how you greet your father after almost a year's absence?" he wondered, tsk-ing at his son. "I'd of thought your manners were better than that. Although, taking up with muggles and mudbloods could be to blame."

"Out," Draco said again through clenched teeth.

His anger had little effect on the older man who made himself comfortable on the sofa. "Really, Draco, there's no need for a wand," he spoke haughtily, raising an eyebrow. "I merely came to offer my condolences."

"Condolences?" Hermione repeated, wondering if Lucius had read the same article in The Daily Prophet that they had.

"I think you mean congratulations," Draco corrected him, tightening his hold on Hermione's hand.

The older man chuckled and smoothed back a lock of his silvery blond hair. "No, I do believe I understand the definition of condolences," he retorted. "I also believe you are familiar with the terms of your inheritance."

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't care," he replied. "I have no interest in your money. We've been getting along perfectly fine without it."

"And when your mother's money runs out?" Lucius inquired as he sneered at the couple. "Or that, Merlin forbid, baby is born? Will you get a job, Draco, or send your little wife out to provide for you?"

"What my wife and I do is none of your concern," the young Malfoy replied. "Now, I'll say it one last time - get out of my house."

Lucius complied, but took his time leaving. He assessed the photos that lined the wall and then looked at his son. He smirked, but left without another word. It wasn't until the front door closed that Draco lowered his wand and loosened his vice-like grip on Hermione's hand. He massaged her aching palm and whispered an apology.

"You called me your wife," she mused, watching his thumbs press into her hand.

Draco shrugged. "It seemed to make him mad," he muttered. "I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"It didn't," she confessed, blushing slightly. "I'm not happy that that article claimed we were married and pregnant, and I'm less happy that it was Ron who said it. But there was something kind of...spine tingly about hearing you call me your wife."

He held her hand, his grip less bone crushing than before, and smiled. "I liked saying it too," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. "And one day, I intend to make you my wife."

She kissed him, letting her tongue run along the seam of his lips until he parted them. "When?" she asked.

Chuckling, he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Not telling," he replied, returning to her lips. He carried her up the stairs to their bedroom, taking the steps slowly as she filled his sense of sight. "Cold?" he asked, placing her down on the bed.

"Freezing," she replied with a mischievous grin. Her hands ran under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his stomach. "Ya know, the best way to warm up is direct, skin to skin contact."

Draco pulled back, kneeling above her. "We don't have to..." he started.

"I want to," she interrupted as she slid his shirt up higher. "You just gave up your inheritance for me."

"That's really not comparable to you giving up your virginity," he replied. "Yours is a much,much bigger deal."

She shook her head. "I love you and I know you're the only person I ever want to be with," she said. "I know how much you love me, enough to risk losing your inheritance for me. I want to do this because it's you and I trust you and I know you won't hurt me."

Leaning down, he brushed his fingers across her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear. "It will hurt," he told her, brows furrowed. "I'll be as gentle as I can though."

She smiled and kissed him tenderly. "I know you will."

The sun had just begun to set when Draco awoke. Beside him, Hermione slept peacefully as her fingers traced circles on his stomach. He slowly slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom to shower. A smile stretched across his face, one he was sure he wouldn't be able to shake for a long time. After drying off and dressing, he went downstairs to make a quick dinner. He had just removed a head of lettuce and a ripe tomato from the refrigerator when arms wrapped around his waist.

"Hungry?" he asked, turning in her arms.

"Famished," Hermione replied, but refused to let him go. "Am I smiling? My face hurts like I've been smiling for days. It's a good kind of hurt though, the kind you never want to go away."

Draco set the vegetables on the counter behind him and kissed her smiling lips. "You're beautiful when you smile," he murmured. "And you look better in my clothes than I do. Feeling okay?"

She nodded. "A bit sore, but that's to be expected, right?" she replied. Her smile slipped when he frowned. "You're not upset, are you? Was it bad? Was I bad?"

Draco chuckled at her sudden lack of self-confidence. "You were perfect," he assured her. "I just feel bad that I hurt you. I knew it would hurt you, but I'm not happy that it did."

"I'm not sorry that it did," Hermione stated. "I want to be with you, and it was my idea to do it. You have no idea how happy I am that you were my first."

Leaning forward, he kissed her gently. "And your last?" he hoped.

Hermione smiled. "My only," she replied.