Not long after her conversation with Arthur, her phone vibrated in the pocket of her jeans. She opened it to find a text from Draco with an address and the room number. She said her goodbyes, promising to meet them all at the Burrow first thing in the morning, so they could travel to Ginny's Quidditch game together.

She flooed back to Grimmauld Place, where she called a cab. She couldn't very well apparate to Draco's hotel room—she'd never seen it before and might splinch herself.

She took a taxi cab through the rain to the hotel. It was—as per usual—the nicest hotel in the area. With a wry smile and a shake of her head, she proceeded to take the elevator up the Draco's floor.

When she knocked, there was a dull crash from the other side of the door. She frowned.

"One minute!" Draco called.

She heard the sound of a struggle, then running water, and she wondered what Draco could possibly be up to. After a few seconds, she raised her fist to knock again, but the door swung open, revealing Draco in nothing but his boxers.

He leaned on the door knob. "Are you with room service?" he purred, running his eyes up and down her figure slowly.

She grinned. "There must be some mistake. I'm looking for a handsome blonde—very serious, always nicely dressed. I must have the wrong room." She made to turn and walk away when he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into the room, closing the door behind them. She squeaked and laughed as he pulled her against him.

When he pushed her up against the door, her eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his warm body pressed against hers.

"Even if you do have the wrong room," he breathed against her ear, "You're exactly what I ordered, and I think it would be worth your while to stay here."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" she murmured.

"I know so," he said softly, grazing her lips with his. His breath smelled strongly of mint.

She grinned as she opened her eyes. "Prove it," she challenged, reveling in the way his eyes seemed to spark at her words.

He kissed her then, and her breath left her. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

"I missed you," he said as he laid her down on the bed and moved to kiss her neck.

"It hasn't been more than five hours!" she laughed.

He pulled back to look at her. "Are you saying you didn't miss me as well?"

She smirked. "You know I did. I always miss you."

"That's what I like to hear," he said with a sly grin, as he began to remove her shoes and socks.

She let him undress her in silence, just watching his graceful movements. Her heart was pounding and she practically quivered with anticipation.

Once she was down to her bra and underwear, he looked up at her, smiling devilishly. He began to press soft kisses against her ankle, slowly making his way up her body. Her breath left her as he reached the inside of her upper thigh, and she closed her eyes, giving herself over to the pleasure she was bound to receive.

A good while later, they were lying side by side on the floor, both breathing heavily.

"Oh, I got you champagne," he mentioned with a casual hand motion, his eyes closed.

She laughed, her eyes following to where he had signaled—there was a cart by the window, upon which sat a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket, with two crystal flutes.

She rolled over to kiss his cheek. "Would you like me to pour you a glass?" she asked.

He nodded. "I don't think I can get up just yet. That was quite the tumble."

She grinned. "I can't believe we rolled right off the bed."

His steel gray eyes opened and he grinned right back. "I can."

She chuckled as she rose to her feet and made her way to the window to retrieve the champagne. Picking up the bottle and the corkscrew opener in one hand, and the glasses in the other, she turned to him. "Shall we move to the bed, then?"

He rolled over and propped himself up on his left elbow. "I think we should stay just where we are. I like the view from here."

She shook her head at him. "You're incorrigible." She sat on the bed—the comforter was stuffed full of feathers, and she sank into it with a satisfied hum.

"You like it," he called from the foot of the bed.

"That I do," she confirmed through closed eyes.

There was a dip in the bed next to her and she handed the bottle to Draco.

"How was dinner?" he asked as he began to turn the corkscrew into the top of the bottle.

She opened her eyes and turned to look at him. "It was alright. I met Ron's new girlfriend," she told him with a raise of her eyebrows.

He glanced at her with wide eyes. "The Weasel has a girlfriend?" There was a pop as he removed the cork.

"Don't call him that," she admonished, holding out the champagne flutes.

"I'll stop calling him The Weasel when he stops acting like a weasel." He filled their glasses and set the bottle on the side table next to the bed.

She sighed. "She's practically the closest looking thing to Lavender in England."

He tilted his head as he accepted a glass from her. "What?"

"Lavender Brown, his girlfriend from sixth year," she clarified as she raised her flute to him.

He nodded, then clinked his glass against hers before kissing her.

She smiled as she took a sip of her drink—it was bubbly and tart. "Ginny thinks Ron is still in love with her."

"With Brown?"

"Yes."

He looked thoughtful. "Wasn't she infected at the Battle of Hogwarts?" he asked as he settled against the massive stack of pillows beside hers.

She nodded sadly. "She's a werewolf now. She's living all by herself on the moors of Ireland. He visits her after every full moon."

"That's...really depressing. And what does his current girlfriend have to say about that?"

"I have no idea," she told him. "Harry made it sound like they were very happy together. They've been dating for six months now."

"They can't be that happy if he's going to visit his ex girlfriend every month."

She nodded. "I agree. And it doesn't help that Claire looks exactly like Lavender. That's very suspicious."

"As long as he's in love with that ex girlfriend and not you. That's a tremendous weight off my mind."

She scrunched up her nose and laughed. "Why?"

"Because if Weasley is in love with you, that makes my job ten times harder."

"And what is your job exactly?" she asked, curiously.

"To win over your friends," he said, as if it were obvious. "If your friends disapprove of me, it'll put strain on you. I don't want that."

She smiled at his thoughtfulness, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "So are you going to tell me about how it really went with your mother?"

His expression darkened. "Ugh. Don't remind me."

"I knew it wasn't fine. Every time you say something is fine, you mean the opposite."

"I do not."

"You do so."

He narrowed his eyes and her and she stared defiantly right back. Finally, he conceded.

"Well it wasn't fine," he confessed with a sigh.

"I thought you said she was enthusiastic about us?"

He placed his glass on the bedside table and leaned back, folding his hands behind his head, and nodded. "I said initially, and she was—because she assumed I was using you as a way to repair the Malfoy reputation."

Hermione went still at this. Ron's words replayed in her head. She'd been pushing his theories from her mind all evening. She knew they weren't true—she knew Draco would never use her that way. But it was disconcerting to hear that his mother had made the same assumption.

"When I informed her that our relationship was not a ruse, she was livid. She basically expressed that it was ridiculous for me to develop feelings for you since 'it's not as if you can marry her' because—guess why?"

"She still believes in blood supremacy," she realized.

"Bingo."

"Even after all the work she's done to help Muggleborns," she said, shaking her head. "Her donations, her charity work, all of that, she's only doing it for the press?"

He nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"Oh, Draco, I'm sorry," she said, stroking his cheek. "What did you do?"

He closed his eyes. "I snapped. I yelled, I might have hit the table, I cursed a bit… Then I stormed out."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me."

He shook his head. "I was too angry."

"Maybe she'll come around," she said half-heartedly.

He laughed darkly. "If she hasn't changed her way of thinking by now… I just don't think it's going to happen."

She was silent, unable to think of anything else to say.

He poured himself another glass of champagne. "In other news—happier news—I had a genius breakthrough tonight."

She tilted her head. "A breakthrough?"

"Well it's all thanks to you—you gave me the idea."

"I…did?"

He nodded, his eyes practically shining. "I called Blaise after I got off the phone with you, we're going to be partners in a revolutionary business endeavor."

She grinned—she could tell he was excited. "What's the business endeavor?"

"Remember how you said you wished we could combine magic with muggle technology?"

Her eyes widened. "You're going to do it?" she asked. "That's a great idea! That's amazing! But how?"

He shrugged. "How is the question—that's why I called Blaise. He has far more business contacts than I do, and he has a wider range of resources—as far as Muggle engineers and such. So we're going to work together and try to find a solution."

"Draco, if you can make this work, that'll be…it'll be…" she shook her head, unable to think of the right word.

"Business will boom," he told her with a grin. "I think we can be incredibly successful. I don't know why someone hasn't tried it already! Blaise said he would make some calls this week, and we're going to have lunch next Thursday to formulate a plan."

"I'm so excited for you!" she laughed.

"For us," he clarified.

She blinked in confusion.

"It was your idea," he insisted.

She laughed. "No, it wasn't! I was being silly, it was just wishful thinking."

"That's where inventions stem from," he insisted. "So you'll own rights to this company—just as much as me and Blaise."

She sobered at this. "What? No, I don't…"

"No, it was your idea. Besides, you were the first person I thought of as to recruitment for research purposes. We need your brilliant brain on this. We can work together." He kissed her. "You're amazing, Granger. I'm the luckiest man alive."

She didn't know what else to say to that, so she settled with a grin. She warmed inside.

The next morning, Hermione took Draco by the hand to apparate him side-along to the Burrow.

"Are you ready?" she asked him.

He swallowed and nodded forcefully, looking far less nervous than she knew he was. "Ready for apparition into Weasley territory. Let's do it."

She rolled her eyes and took his other hand for good measure before disapparating.

They appeared with a small pop in the backyard of the Burrow. Draco looked around, eyeing the property around them.

"It looks cozy," he commented as his eyes fell on the house itself.

"It gets even cozier," she laughed as they walked up to the back door.

When they stepped inside, it was an animal house.

Teddy came tearing by—narrowly avoiding a collision with Draco and Hermione—his hair transforming from blue to purple, shortly followed by Bill and Fleur's four-year-old daughter Victoire, who was chasing after him and giggling. Fleur came rushing by, running after the children and shouting at them in French. George was singing loudly at the top of his lungs with Lee Jordan, whose arm was looped around his shoulder, while Arthur clapped along from his chair. Ron was trying to yell over them—something about the Chudley Cannons—while Claire watched them and laughed. Angelina was charming various tea cups from around the room to float away from their various spots towards the kitchen, wearing an amused smile on her face. Mrs. Weasley came running in from the kitchen, ducking to avoid said tea cups as she shouted at George to keep it down because the baby was napping. Harry sat on the couch watching them all with a dopey grin on his face, and Bill stood nearby in his usual silence, with the smallest hint of a smile at the corner of his scarred lips.

Draco blinked at the sight and took a step back, wearing an expression that could only be described as horrified. Hermione tightened her grip on his hand, offering him an encouraging smile. No one took notice of their arrival.

He leaned over to her. "Is it always like this?"

She sighed happily. "More or less."

"Merlin's beard…"

"Hermione!" Molly Weasley suddenly exclaimed.

The singing stopped—as did Ron's shouts—and they all turned to look at Hermione and Draco.

"Hello," Hermione offered weakly, ignoring Ron's heated glare in their direction.

"Drakey!" George exclaimed, ducking out of Jordan's arms and making a beeline for Draco's side.

Draco eyes went wide and he tensed—a perfectly normal reaction, given George's troublemaking reputation.

George put his arm around Draco's shoulders, pulling him away from Hermione and steering him farther into the living room. "How are you doing today? Excited for the match?" George asked. "Everybody! Malfoy's here!"

"Hello," Arthur greeted brightly from his chair. Jordan, Bill, and Claire all mumbled their greetings.

Ron sat down on the couch in a pout, and Claire quickly sat beside him. Harry rose from his seat and approached Draco.

"Hey, mate," he greeted, holding out his hand.

Draco shook it before throwing Hermione a pleading look.

She followed after them with a smile. "George, I meant what I said last night," she warned.

George feigned a look of innocence. "I believe your exact words were 'prank Malfoy as much as your heart desires,' right?"

Malfoy's eyes widened with apprehension.

"I will hex you, George," she threatened.

George shrugged, turning to grin at Draco. "Maybe later, then, eh? Who else wants a drink?"

"I do!" Arthur called, rising to his feet with a groan. "Just one, though," he said with a cough as he glanced nervously at the kitchen, where Molly had disappeared.

George released Draco with a rough slap on the back, and retrieved a bottle of firewhiskey from the cabinet, along with several cups. He poured them all a drink, charming them to float into the hands of each adult in the room.

"To the Holyhead Harpies!" Jordan toasted.

"Here, here!" George agreed.

"May they demolish Puddlemere United today!" Jordan finished.

Everyone clinked their glasses and took a drink.

"Let's place bets, then," Angelina suggested.

"How many points will Ginny score today?" Harry asked them with a smile.

Bill took a step forward. "I'd bet at least eighty points."

"Eighty points!" George exclaimed. "That's a bit high! I wouldn't even bet that high, and she's my sister!"

"She's my sister too, you dolt," Bill responded with a shake of his head.

"I'm putting money on seventy points," Angelina said, dropping three coins onto the coffee table.

"Eighty," Bill insisted, setting down his three coins as well.

"Seventy, no more!" George added to the pile.

"Ninety," Harry bet with a grin. There was a clink of coins on the table.

Jordan scoffed. "Children. This is the Puddlemere game we're talking about. It's a huge rivalry game." He dropped his coins in with the pile. "A hundred or more."

"You can't bet on more!" George argued. "You can only bet on one number!"

"You had better not be gambling in my house, George Fabian Weasley!" came Molly's shrill call from the kitchen.

They all went quiet.

Arthur quickly set down two coins. "A hundred and twenty," he whispered, before quickly walking out of the room to join his wife in the kitchen.

Hermione laughed at their antics.

"What about you, Ron?" George said, whispering loudly. "Care to join in?" he asked.

"No," Ron said sullenly.

George and Jordan exchanged looks. "His loss, then," the redhead concluded with a shrug.

"A hundred and ten," Malfoy suddenly announced, dropping his wizard coins in with the pile.

The group went quiet, all turning to look at Malfoy. He assumed his usual confident air, and Hermione smiled, taking his hand as she stood closer to him.

"You're all crazy," George decided with a grin, patting Malfoy on the back—less hard this time—as he swiped the pile of money into a small green bag.

"I'm telling Ginny you bet on the lowest number of points," Harry teased.

George scoffed. "I'm not afraid of her," he stated.

Fleur stomped in from the kitchen. "Victoire has lost her shoe," she told Bill in French. "She cannot find it and now she is crying! I think Teddy must have hidden it again."

"Is that it?" Draco asked in French, pointing to the ceiling.

Fleur and Bill both cast him a surprise expression before looking up to where he was pointing.

Everyone in the room was looking up now at the small white shoe that was stuck to the ceiling above their heads.

"How did that get up there?" Angelina asked.

"That has Teddy written all over it," Harry laughed.

"I've got it," Hermione volunteered, lifting her wand. "Accio shoe," she said, pointing to the footwear. It landed in her hand.

"You speak French?" Fleur asked Draco through narrowed eyes.

He nodded. "I live there—so does Granger. Her French is even better than mine."

Hermione rolled her eyes and felt her cheeks pinken.

Fleur's face took on an expression of delight. "You have learned French, Hermione?"

"I have," she confirmed.

Fleur clapped her hands with excitement. "Wonderful! And Draco, I had no idea you were living in France! Do you live together?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, just in the same town."

"That is lovely! We should visit sometime. We go to visit my mother in Paris every spring. It is so lovely at that time of year. Draco, Hermione, you must join us in Paris sometime."

They both nodded, Hermione brightening considerably at the invitation.

"We would love that, thank you," Draco said with a polite smile.

A baby's cry sounded from upstairs and Fleur turned to leave, but Bill placed a hand on her back.

"I'll get her," he offered, kissing her on the cheek. Hermione handed him the shoe and he smiled gratefully before leaving the room.

The conversations in the room resumed, and Fleur continued speaking with Draco and Hermione in French, inquiring all about how they met.

Ron remained sitting on the couch—with Claire—in silence the entire time.

After a few minutes, Arthur exited the kitchen. "Time to get going!" he announced.

They all filed out the door with the Teddy and Victoire in tow, making easy conversation with one another as they did so.

When they arrived at the stadium, Hermione was overcome with anxiety. She held Draco's hand with a vice-like grip, and he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand in soothing motions. Fleur was chattering with Draco nonstop. They were half way to their box seats when the first camera flashed.

"Just ignore them," Harry advised. "Pretend they're not there—that's what I do."

Whispers of Hermione Granger seemed to travel through the crowd, and Hermione couldn't help but notice the shocked expressions of every person they passed.

"That's Hermione Granger!"

"It's Hermione Granger!"

"Is that…"

"Draco Malfoy?"

"Malfoy and Granger!"

"Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy!"

"Why, that's Hermione Granger!"

Draco's grip on her hand tightened as they climbed the set of stairs into their box, and then the curtain was closed behind them and they were given some sense of privacy.

"Alright, people," George announced. "Time to get our drink on!"

Hermione was passed a plastic cup of some kind of beer, and she frowned. "I don't even like beer," she muttered to Draco.

He shrugged. "I'll drink it for you," he offered.

She handed it over to him with a smile.

Then a whistle sounded and the game began.

"WELCOME, WITCHES AND WIZARDS TO THE GAME OF THE SEASON!" came the announcer. His voice rang through the stadium, greeted by the cheers of hundreds of fans.

"WHAT A GAME WE HAVE TODAY! HOLYHEAD'S HOLYHEAD HARPIES…"

More cheering.

"AGAINST PUDDLEMERE UNITED!"

"This is gonna be good!" Jordan exclaimed.

"AND OUR TEAM CAPTAINS MEET FOR THE COIN TOSS! GWENOG JONES AND TAYLOR HEMINGWAY MEET ON THE FIELD! AND…IT LOOKS LIKE PUDDLEMERE WINS THE COIN TOSS! LET THE GAME BEGIN!"

The game passed in a whirlwind—most of it lost on Hermione. Draco got very involved in the game, yelling and shouting and cheering along with everybody else. She watched for Ginny—who ended up playing very well, but had to sit out due to a foul—but the finer details of the game went over her head. She just didn't love Quidditch much. But she cheered and booed at all the right times and places and enjoyed spending time with her family and friends.

"AND BENJY WILLIAMS CATCHES THE SNITCH, ENDING THE GAME! 150 POINTS GO TO PUDDLEMERE UNITED, BUT THE HOLYHEAD HARPIES STILL WIN BY TWENTY POINTS! THE HOLYHEAD HARPIES WIN 310 to 290!"

The cheers were deafening. George and Jordan lost their minds, high fiving and hugging everyone—including Draco.

"Yay, Aunt Ginny!" Teddy cheered, jumping up and down, Victoire following suit.

"After party at my place!" George announced loudly. "Everyone's invited! Even you, Dad," he added, high fiving his father.

Arthur laughed loudly.

They waited in the box for Ginny, and when she finally arrived, they all cheered and hooted and hollered for her. She grinned, her face still flushed from the game. George and Jordan picked her up on their shoulders, twirling her around.

"Put me down!" she shrieked in laughter.

They obliged and Harry pulled her into a warm hug, spinning her in a circle and giving her a kiss.

"Alright you two," George said, separating them. "That's enough of that. This is a sports event! No room for romance! Party at my place! Bring all your friends! Let's go!"

They piled out of the box, laughing and talking about the game. But no sooner had the pulled back the curtain, then what seemed like a hundred flashing lights went off.

"Hermione!"

"Hermione Granger!"

"Is it true you're back from the dead?"

"Is it true that you're dating Draco Malfoy?"

"Miss Granger, what do you have to say about rumors that Draco Malfoy has been keeping you away from England for the last two years?"

"Mister Malfoy, any comment on your wrongful sentence for Hermione Granger's false case of murder?"

"Mister Malfoy!"

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione covered her eyes, blinded by the cameras, and Draco pulled her against him, trying to shield her from the press. Victoire started crying, covering her eyes, and Bill picked her up to hold her tightly against him.

"That's enough!" Harry yelled. "Get out of here, all of you!"

"Mister Potter, any comment on Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger's relationship?"

"Ron Weasley! What do you have to say about Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy's new romance?"

"Mister Potter, is it true you were hiding Hermione Granger away this entire time?"

"Mister Potter, is there any truth to rumors of a secret love affair between you and Hermione Granger?"

"I said, out of our way!" Harry shouted, sounding truly angry. "Now!"

They pushed through the crowd, George and Angelina flanking the sides of their group while Arthur and Ron took the rear and shoved the press away from them as they departed from the stadium. The flash of cameras followed them the whole way down the stairs, and they disapparated to the burrow as soon as they were off stadium grounds.

Hermione pulled Draco's arms around her and he held onto her tightly as they disapparated.

They arrived back at the Burrow to hear Harry shouting.

"Who do they think they are?"

"Did you hear their ridiculous accusations?" George laughed. "Honestly! Harry and Hermione? A secret romance?" He bent over in a fit of laughter.

Ginny was shaking her head. "It's despicable how they invade our privacy."

Hermione sighed in relief at the privacy of the Burrow once more.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I think I might be blind from all those lights, but yes. I'm fine. You?"

He nodded and smiled at her. "Couldn't be better."

"Are you guys okay?" Harry asked with a huff.

"We're fine, Harry—it's alright," she assured him.

"Next time we'll be getting a portkey," Harry announced. "No more of this! No more dealing with the bloody press!"

"Language!" Fleur chastised him, covering Victoire's ears.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered.

George clapped Harry on the back. "Well, it's over now. What do you say we go back to mine and celebrate?"

"Yes, we owe someone award money!" Jordan reminded them, holding up the green bag. The coins inside it jingled.

"Potter won," Draco announced with a smile. "Good guessing, Potter."

Harry smiled despite the fact that he looked exhausted from their encounter with the reporters. "I did, didn't I?"

"You placed a bet for ninety points?" Ginny asked him. "Only ninety?" She smacked his arm.

"Well I won though, didn't I?" he said with a laugh. "Mal—Draco bet on a hundred and ten points."

Ginny eyed Draco with a newfound appreciation, nodding at him. "Thanks, Draco."

He grinned, his arm still around Hermione. "You would've done it too, if that blasted Jocelind Wadcock hadn't feigned that ridiculous foul."

"I know!" Ginny exclaimed. "I had to sit out for a whole sixty minutes of the game! It was bullshit!"

"Ginny!" Bill barked. "Language!"

Ginny looked properly chastised as her eyes rested on Victoire. "Sorry!"

Victoire looked up at her father. "What does bullshit mean?"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"It's a bad word," Teddy explained. "You're not supposed to say bullshit."

"Children!" Fleur exclaimed, grabbing them both by the shoulders. "Inside, now!"

"Sorry!" Ginny called after them before turning back to the group, her face bright red.

The group all laughed at the exchange.

"You're going to be the best parents ever," Draco said to the Potters.

Ginny punched him in the shoulder. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"Last one to me and Angelina's is getting canary cream in their butterbeer!" George announced before disapparating.

There were several loud pops as one by one, the group followed suit.

Draco turned to Hermione. "What on earth is canary cream?"

She sighed. "It's something he and Fred invented. It's just like it sounds—a cream that transforms you into a canary."

Draco's eyes widened in horror. "Then what the hell are you waiting for, Granger? Let's get over there! Hurry!"

With a roll of her eyes, she took his hand and they disapparated with a small pop.

I was too lazy to write out the sex scene. It's so difficult to write them! They're exhausting! Bah! If anyone wants to write sex scenes for me, let me know lol. Otherwise, it's up to your imagination!