Oh, alright. Don't ever say I'm not nice. You can thank Trinkisme for getting this one for you all. I took that review and whipped this up in about fifteen minutes (so forgive any typos). The inspiration was still running so I thought why not. A bit lighter than the previous. Now no more for this one! I've got other pots I'm stirring. ;)

Well Matched

"I want to organize my own bloody bookshelves, Draco. If she absolutely must do something for me, please tell Tippy I'd love some of her scones but do not let that poor elf do more manual labor for me."

Draco rolled his eyes as he followed his new wife out of Flourish and Blott's on what was turning out to be rather wintry afternoon. With their small wedding ceremony a month ago now, Christmas was on the horizon. Snow flurries chased one another in the winter air, many becoming stuck in his wife's abundant mane of curls that weren't trapped under that her hat.

He followed her carefully down the shop's steps, holding her massive purchase of new books. He'd offered her the choice of nice pieces from his vaults as a wedding gift. Felt it was only right that he treat her as he would have any other woman he'd married. She'd not wanted anything besides the engagement ring he bestowed on her and acted offended by the idea of the sort of bright jewelry his mother favored.

However, at the suggestion of one of her idiotic friends, he'd then offered her books. The way those chocolate eyes, as he now referred to them in his head, sparkled with excitement told him he'd stumbled on the right choice. Leave it to Hermione Granger to be true to form even five years out of Hogwarts.

So, after a rather enjoyable Saturday morning in bed with her—he need not overanalyze how much he enjoyed sex with the witch he'd bullied so much growing up—he told her it was time she allow him to bestow his wedding gift on her. It was Malfoy tradition after all that the new bride have a wedding gift.

That was how Draco Malfoy found himself Saturday afternoon, trailing after his muggle-born wife now touted affectionately in the papers as Hermione Granger-Malfoy, hefting a large parcel of books in his arms.

"If we stop at Florean Fortescue's, will you feed me some since I'm carrying your bloody load of dead trees," he teased playfully.

Merlin did he enjoy the way she glared right back, her own expression just as playful. However, she didn't argue and they trudged down the snowy sidewalk together.

"I don't know just how you can eat ice cream in this weather, Draco," she scoffed, dodging an arguing couple of newlyweds as she braced his arm when he nearly tripped trying to do the same.

"Ice cream is pleasant in any weather," he smirked. "We can take some home and I can prove my point behind closed doors if you like. I have the distinct feeling the butterbeer flavor will taste exceptional being lapped from your navel."

He nearly snickered when she blushed to the roots of her hair and swatted his arm half-heartedly. She could say what she liked but she hadn't turned him away once since the first time on their wedding night.

Neither had expected to enjoy the other's company but neither was complaining either. His mother found she was quite pleased with his choice as well. She'd been rather shocked when he told him exactly which muggle-born witch he'd chosen on Match Day. Yet when Hermione joined them for an introductory dinner, dressed demurely in a lovely dress that Draco still liked to remember, and showed impeccable manners during the five course meal, his mother found herself without any legitimate arguments. She was now waiting not so impatiently for the conception of her first grandchild. Whenever that would be. After a short discussion before the wedding to put their affairs in order, they both agreed they weren't in a rush. The Ministry had stupidly not given a timeline for a first child.

Her two friends and their wives had also decided that they were going to let things happen naturally and were in no rush.

Speaking of friends…

"Oi, Zabini," Draco shouted as he and Hermione exited the ice cream shop.

He met Hermione's gaze when he glanced down and winked at her. She rolled her eyes in response. She still didn't understand the friendship between the two former Slytherins. They took regular pleasure in taking each other down a notch.

Blaise and his chosen wife, Luna Lovegood, stopped in their walk and waited for the other couple to catch up.

"Malfoy, pity seeing your sorry mug out in public."

Luna shook her head and leaned forward to Draco. "He's just a bit ornery from the bitswittles he accidentally ingested with his eggs at breakfast."

Draco smirked, avoiding Hermione's look of warning as he grinned at the small blonde witch. "Oh, he's just generally ornery. It's in his nature." He then focused on his scowling former housemate and grinned as he readjusted the load in his arms. "Too bad you're not as kind as your lovely wife, you git."

"Kind," Blaise scoffed. "I do believe you have such a lovely wife because I traded you my number. She'd have been scooped up sooner had you not had ticket number one."

Draco shrugged, "Perhaps. But Hermione now covers the kind and charitable functions in this relationship."

"If your wife were feeling truly charitable, she'd agree to shrink those books and you could put them in your pocket," Blaise grinned, hastily avoiding the sharp elbow of his wife who clucked her tongue in disapproval. They were only beginning to wind each other up.

Draco's gaze swiveled quickly down to Hermione who looked right back innocently.

"You never asked," she smiled impishly. "I'd thought you smarter than that, Draco."

"Bloody Gryffindors," he mumbled under his breath as he once more readjusted the books in his arms. "Take pity on your poor husband, why don't you?"

"I suppose I should," she sighed, "then you can feed yourself this unseasonable dessert, sparing me the trouble."

Blaise grinned through the entire exchange. Joking aside, he felt they were quite well matched after all. Truly, both couples were content with their matches.

Hermione pulled her wand from her coat and with a simple flick, her bundle of books were now small enough to fit into Draco's coat pocket. He stored them quickly, shaking his arms out afterwards. He took his ice cream when she handed it to him. She had that look in her eyes now that told him maybe he ought to behave. Especially if he intended to lap anything from her navel later.

"Bloody barmy arse! I'm not going to tell you again, Adrian!"

Both couples turned in time to watch as Adrian Pucey and his own wife chased one another down the middle of the street. Green sparks shot from the ends of their wands as they ducked behind various objects before popping up to shoot hexes at one another.

"Oi! There are kids out here, you two. Take that domestic dispute home with ya."

Draco and Blaise shared a smug grin over the wives' heads.

"Serves him right to think he was getting a docile witch," Blaise snickered.

"Twenty galleons says she'll hex his prick so badly that they won't be able to conceive," Draco nodded.

"I'll take that bet. I don't think she'll ever let the bastard's prick even touch her."

Hermione and Luna both watched with veiled amusement as the couple in question darted up and down the alley, hexes flying in each other's direction.

"What in the bloody hell is that about?"

The two couples turned when Ron Weasley approached, dressed in his auror robes.

"Pucey and his wife are having a bit of a row," Hermione answered. "If you're still on duty today, you might want to handle that. Where's Harry?"

Ron grumbled under his breath, something about purebloods and egos, before he glanced at her. "Harry went to grab some lunch. Said to take the afternoon duty." He shook his head irritably and he withdrew his wand. "Bloody madness. I'm trained to catch dark wizards and now I'm ending abloody domestic disputes. I've a mind to hex Pucey myself."

He didn't wait for any response from the group and marched off after the fighting couple. They all watched as red sparks flew from the end of his wand and the couple's wands each flew into his hand just before he began barking at them for their stupidity.

Draco wrapped his free arm comfortably around Hermione, pleased when she made no protest at him embracing her so publicly. (Their comfort and intimacy was still new after all.)

"I don't know about you but I think Match Day went quite well for everyone," he grinned smugly.

He chose to ignore Hermione's sharp elbow when she nudged him playfully but met her warm eyes. She wasn't in love with him yet but he had a feeling it would happen. Eventually. He'd fall, too, if she let him.