I adore how much you all loved high Hermione. She was so, so fun to write. I hope you've enjoyed hopping aboard the fluff train. Because there's no sign it's stopping.
Alphabet love to MsMerlin and Graceful Lioness as always.
Hermione panted, her breath brushing across Draco's skin. Her hands searched for purchase on his back as he thrust into her roughly. She settled on the nape of his neck, her fingers curling into the hair there.
"God, Draco—"
"Fuck—"
It hit her all at once, spreading from her centre, down her legs and up her torso, all the way to her extremities. As her climax swirled inside her, Hermione's mouth fell open and she gave a strangled cry. Above her, Draco followed moments later before he laid his chest against hers, pressing soft kisses against her collarbone.
Hermione could still feel her fiancé inside her, his cock slowly softening with each pulse.
Not worrying about contraceptive potion was a different feeling.
Not just wanting him, but also wanting the act to mean something—to conceive.
Ever since she had recovered from the surgery nearly five months ago, Hermione hadn't taken the potion. Draco hadn't cast the charm. They simply decided… to see what would happen.
It wasn't as though they were trying. They simply weren't not trying. There had been no ovulation calendars. No scheduled shagging. Just… fewer precautions.
All their hard work hadn't yielded any positive charms yet. But Hermione was having fun anyway. Really, trying to conceive a baby was just more of an excuse to explore a side of herself she hadn't bothered to before.
Sex had never been a priority. Even during their eighth year, when the war had ended and they had express permission from Minerva to live together. So much had happened that year. Rebuilding her relationship with Draco from the ground up required some shagging, yes, but it had never been something Hermione had actively craved. Never something that she thought of as a vital part of her life.
But recently…
Draco had been completely on board with exploring with her. In fact, he got quite the glint in his eye when Hermione initially suggested, cheeks pink, that she might like to be a bit more adventurous. Try new things.
And oh, what results their experiments had brought.
For example, Hermione had never really seen the appeal of someone's face between her legs. She had heard older girls gossiping about it through cracked doorways in Gryffindor Tower, but it had seemed embarrassing at the time. Someone's head… there? What about hair? What about the smell or the taste? Surely, it was far from tempting.
But now Hermione understood the appeal perfectly well, thank you very much.
It had taken some guidance and a bit of fumbling at first, but she now had a whole new appreciation for Draco's tongue and lips. Sometimes, just the sight of them was enough to make thighs rub together. And whatever she was like down there, Draco seemed to fully appreciate her. When his face was buried between her legs, he was like a man possessed, whose thirst needed to be quenched by her and her alone.
Thinking about it got her hot and bothered these days.
Sometimes, she even thought about it at the most inconvenient times.
For instance, when she was at work.
In a meeting.
That very morning, Draco had taken her on the kitchen counter, her skirt bunched up around her waist. But not before lowering himself onto his knees…
She couldn't think about this. Not now.
The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had been under intense scrutiny ever since the department head, the horrendous Mr. Bluster, had been found squandering away Ministry funds for personal gain.
Ever since his departure, the place had become a far better place to work. Enjoyable, even. The new department head, Athena Godfried, was a tough woman. She was a transfer from the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad. She seemed open-minded enough, stopping by cubicles throughout the day to inquire about various projects happening in the office.
Athena had lingered quite a while at Hermione's cubicle, asking many about the werewolf legislation she was currently drafting.
And then, out of the blue, she asked if Hermione would present her legislation to the entire department.
So there she was, at perhaps the most important meeting of her life, remembering the feeling of Draco's mouth on her, and the feeling of his hair sliding between her fingers. She was certain her face was scarlet. It felt hot enough to be.
"As you can see—" She gestured to the bar graph on the large, floating parchment at the head of the room, "—the werewolf population has been decreasing at an alarming rate. Not because fewer bites are taking place, but because of the services they are consistently denied."
Hermione kept her eyes trained on a spot on the back wall of the conference room. She didn't want to look anyone in the eye. Surely, they'd know that her mind was split… that her focus wasn't quite there.
What was Draco doing to her? Surely, after five years, she'd have learned to keep herself in check.
"After treating an initial bite, St. Mungo's is reluctant to treat werewolves for everyday magical maladies, leaving patients to either seek Muggle treatment or to fend for themselves."
The memory of a werewolf child floated to the top of Hermione's memory. Little Jeremiah had been bitten during the war by Greyback. And although he received wolfsbane potion regularly, he'd been denied treatment at St. Mungo's for a nasty case of dragon pox.
It had nearly killed Draco to watch his superiors turn the five year-old away.
Hermione interviewed his parents last month, shortly after his funeral.
The sobering memory chased away any and all inappropriate thoughts.
She finished the presentation with clarity and determination, leaving time for several department members to ask questions about her proposed legislation. To her surprise, there were very few completely bigoted responses.
"Well done, Miss Granger." Athena Godfried's no-nonsense tone reached her ears as she shuffled her parchment into a neat stack. "That was the most compelling argument for werewolf rights I've seen. I have to say, you were quite persuasive."
Hermione smiled, keeping her lips pursed together. "Thank you. I appreciate the compliment. The real question is, will the Wizengamot find it persuasive?"
Athena considered Hermione for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. The hint of a smile grazed her lips.
"I'd say that I would like you to be the one to find out. I'd like you to take the lead on this legislation. We'll put your name on it, too." She reached out and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Granger, you're an asset to this department. Ol' Bluster was a fool for sticking you in a cubicle. Couldn't see your potential. Tell you what?"
Athena steered her out of the conference room and past the maze of cubicles that filled the center of the department. They stopped in front of one of the offices that lined the edge of the department. One with a door and a window that faced the atrium.
"Let's get you into a real office, eh? Get you on track to be my deputy head."
Hermione blinked. She was quick-witted, yes, but a sudden change like this… after only one presentation? A presentation during which she had been distracted by—?
"What's the catch?"
She blurted the words before she could catch herself.
"There is no catch, Miss Granger." Athena flourished her wand, and Hermione's name appeared on the plaque beside the door. "Just do good work, or rather, keep doing what you're doing. You deserve one of these offices. The department needs you and your talent."
Hermione reached out her hand, running her fingers along her name engraved in brass.
Her office.
Her legislation.
She thought of all the time she had spent in her tiny cubicle, filing paperwork, sorting parchment, answering memos.
She thought of Bluster, demeaning her all those years ago as she sat in his office, Shiloh barely a few months old in her lap.
"You do have experience, Miss Granger. And talent in spades. There is no doubt about that. But what there is doubt about is your character."
The way he had looked at her—it was as though she was less than the dirt under his shoe. And Shiloh… as though she was merely an inconvenience.
Worry pooled in her stomach as she remembered the end result she and Draco were hoping for from all their shagging.
"My fiancé and I—we're trying for another baby."
Hermione grimaced. Why couldn't she keep her mouth shut? Why did she have to be so damn upfront? She wished she could have been a bit more Slytherin about it all.
She was positive that Athena would erase her name from the wall and she'd be relegated back to her cubicle.
Instead, Athena just raised her eyebrows. "Let me know when you find success, Miss Granger. I'd be happy to discuss a suitable maternity leave arrangement with you."
Without another word, her boss turned on her heel and tread down toward her own office, leaving Hermione blinking in front of her new office door.
Hermione practically floated home from work. Perhaps they'd go out to eat tonight. Shiloh was getting better eating at restaurants these days. She coloured bits of spare parchment nicely and generally found something she liked on the children's menu. There was a new Italian place a couple blocks away that she'd been meaning to try.
The second she stepped through the grate, she was met with an enthusiastic hug from her daughter and a tired smile from Draco.
"Want to go out to eat?" she posited, setting her work bag down beside the fireplace. "You look like you could use a glass of wine."
Draco held up a tumbler of amber liquid. "Beat you to it."
"That bad, huh?" Hermione frowned. He only drank right after work if he'd had a rough day.
She was met with a sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair.
"I see."
It only took a few minutes to wrangle Shiloh into some shoes, and then they set off down the street toward the restaurant. As predicted, the little girl was able to find a suitable choice for dinner—mini chicken parmesan—after sounding out the children's menu by herself.
"She's going to be such a swot at Hogwarts," Draco mused as they perused the regular menus. "Already taking after you."
Hermione swatted at his arm. "You're pleased as punch that she's brilliant. Don't kid yourself, Draco Malfoy."
He lifted his hands in the air in mock defense.
"So what happened at work today? What's got you so upset?"
Draco lowered his arms, his expression souring.
"It's—"
"Don't you dare say nothing."
Draco sighed. He set his menu down.
"It's… you know I love healing, right?"
Hermione nodded.
"Well... I do. I just don't like working at St. Mungo's."
Hermione's mind flicked to little Jeremiah. "Why? What happened?"
"It's not my co-workers. Or my patients. They're fine." He ran his fingers through his hair again, his brow furrowing. "It's the families. They've been requesting to see other Healers. It's been happening a lot. A family will see that I'm their Healer on an intake form. They'll complain at the check-in desk and get assigned someone without a Dark Mark."
Hermione watched as Draco rubbed his forearm over his shirt sleeve.
"I just want to take care of the children on the ward, but no family will let me near their child. I've been permanently relegated to the Healer's station, writing patient reports."
Draco's voice shook as he spoke, and Hermione could see it was all he could do to keep from crying in public.
How many times had this come up since the war? How many times would her fiancé be turned away, shamed, or excluded? He tried to put on a brave face and pursue a normal life, but he'd faced stigma at nearly every turn.
Here she was, finally overcoming her own stigma with a boss who understood her, and he was practically drowning.
She wished there was some legislation she could introduce for him.
Hermione opened her mouth to offer him comfort, but a soft cry interrupted her thoughts.
Both she and Draco looked down to see Shiloh's legs crossed in her chair, her lip wobbly.
Draco swooped in without hesitating. "What's wrong, Pixie? What's happened?"
Hermione didn't need to ask. One look at Shiloh's pink trousers and she knew.
Shiloh sniffed. "I had a accident."
It had been like this for months. They'd tried toilet training Shiloh nearly a year ago, when she was still two. But all she'd done was stare at the miniature toilet they purchased and then try to wear it as a hat.
Hermione knew that at age three, she should probably be out of nappies, but between both her and Draco's work schedules, it just hadn't happened yet.
"Oh, sweetheart. That's okay. Tergeo!" Draco discretely took his wand out of his holster and cast the spell. "Remember, you have to tell us when you have to go."
Shiloh pouted and nodded, stretching her arms toward Draco. He cuddled her close while Hermione cast a quiet Scourgify on the booster seat.
Even after all these years it came as a surprise, just how good Draco was with their daughter. He was good with all children, really. With adults, he was just as sarcastic and demanding as he pleased, but children were a different story. Especially Shiloh. He was always so patient with her. Understanding and calm and ready to take on challenges.
Draco had been perfectly fine changing nappies from the get-go, and he wasn't at all squeamish or stand-offish at the thought of toilet training. She half expected him to ask for an elf to take care of it.
"I was toilet trained by Mippy, our elf," he'd told her with a shrug one night before bed. "It went about as well as expected. According to Mother, I tried to wear a tea towel dress like Mippy in the beginning. I apparently… ah… made many mistakes before the training really sank in."
"We are not having an elf toilet train our daughter," she'd informed him with an air of finality.
Draco had thankfully agreed, and now, shortly after her third birthday, it finally seemed like the right time.
Except they were still far from successful.
When Shiloh finally calmed down in Draco's lap, Hermione downed the rest of her glass of wine to gather the courage to offer good news. It seemed strange, given the day Draco had. But before she could even tell him that she had received a promotion, he leaned his elbow on the table and sighed.
"I'm thinking of quitting."
The words hung over the table as the waiter delivered their food, halting the conversation. Draco remained close-lipped as Hermione cut up Shiloh's chicken into bite-size pieces.
Once the little girl was munching happily on her dinner, Hermione gathered a forkful of rigatoni and cleared her throat.
"So…" She tried to conceal the surprise in her voice, though she wasn't sure how successful it was. "You're thinking of quitting St. Mungo's? I thought paediatric healing was your calling."
Draco grimaced between bites of fish. In his eyes, Hermione saw a flash of sadness. But that's all what it was. As quickly as it came, the sadness disappeared in the blink of an eye, replaced by stoicism. Although he had started opening up to her with more frequency, it was still only incremental. Draco was a master of self-preservation to his core.
He dabbed his mouth with a napkin and set his knife and fork down.
"It is, but I just don't know if I can take another day of sorting intake paperwork when I know I should be in exam rooms."
"You will be." Hermione reached her hand across the table to place it on top of his. "I'm sure it'll just take time."
Draco shook his head. "You don't hear what they're saying. The parents. They're determined to keep me from seeing their children. They think I'll harm them in some way. Curse them."
"But you took your Healer's oath!"
"Not good enough for them."
"You have a child of your own. Everyone knows that! Skeeter couldn't stop publishing articles about her two years ago!"
Draco pierced another piece of fish, his eyes trained on his plate. "People have already made their minds up about me. Don't you understand? Time won't change that."
"Well, surely if—"
"No." Though his voice didn't rise, Hermione could feel his frustration crackling just below the surface. "I'm done. I'm supposed to be working with children—helping them. Instead, I'm just as busy, but not helping anyone. Including my own daughter. I feel like I could do so much more—be so much more if I stopped doing the thing that makes me feel like shit and started doing the thing that actually makes me happy."
Hermione's brows furrowed. Was he implying that he wanted to—?
"Shit!"
Quick as a snitch, both she and Draco snapped their heads to face Shiloh. Her face was split into a wide grin. Her bowl of pasta was on the floor and a ring of red sauce outlined her mouth. Under her parents' stupefied gaze, she giggled.
"Shit!"
"Shiloh Beatrice Malfoy!"
"Young Lady!"
The three year-old had the audacity to give another impish grin.
Before Hermione had the chance to lecture her daughter about the importance of choosing her words carefully, Draco was kneeling beside Shiloh, speaking at her eye level.
"Pixie, you can't use that word. That's a grown-up witch word."
Shiloh pouted, placing her fists on her tiny waist. "But I am a grown-up witch!"
Draco chuckled and patted her head. "I hate to break this to you, Pixie, but three years does not a grown witch make."
When Shiloh continued to frown, Draco shook his head and whispered, just loud enough for Hermione to hear. "Tell you what, Pixie. You can use that word when it's only you and me. Just don't your mummy hear you say it."
"Draco!"
He lifted his hands in the air, relenting. "Fine, fine. When you turn eleven. Not like we can tell once you go off to Hogwarts, anyway."
Draco shot a smirk at Hermione, who couldn't help but roll her eyes.
Shiloh turned to face her, tugging on her sleeve. "Mummy, am I eleven yet?"
The amusement fell off Hermione's face.
Draco shoved a piece of fish in his mouth.
"No, Pixie. You won't be eleven for a long, long time."
Although she was still pouting, Shiloh seemed to sense the finality in Hermione's tone. She folded her arms and stared at her plate.
Hermione was sure that if she knew any more curse words, she'd be thinking them. Merlin help them when she became a teenager.
Hermione cleared her throat. "So, you're certain you want to quit, then?"
Draco grimaced between bites. "I still want to be a paediatric Healer somehow. St. Mungo's just… isn't right. Not for me." His head turned toward Shiloh, who had cooled down a bit and was humming to herself as she tried to scoop noodles onto her fork. "Besides, I think I can have a bigger impact if I stay with Shiloh more."
That came as a surprise. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"You, Draco Malfoy, want to stay home and raise Shiloh? Our too-smart-for-her-own-good three year-old? You do remember we don't have a house-elf, right?"
Draco narrowed his eyes at her, though Hermione knew he was just being playful. "Don't patronise me. Of course we don't have a damn house-elf. I'm signing up to do the whole job. Besides, someone's got to toilet train this one."
Shiloh licked the sauce off her fingers, oblivious.
Hermione sighed. "You know, that's actually not a bad idea, considering what happened to me today." She paused for dramatic effect, allowing herself just a small moment in the spotlight for her achievement. It worked. Draco leaned forward, eyebrow cocked.
"Oh? And what happened today?"
"I finally got promoted. I have my own office and everything. Athena Godfried wants to push through with the werewolf legislation and wants my name on it."
Draco slapped the table, a grin growing on his face. "That's my witch!"
Hermione had to shush him, though she did so with a wide smile. "It's a Muggle restaurant, Draco!"
He waved her off. "I don't give a damn. Hermione Granger, making a difference at the Ministry. Paper pusher, no longer! I bet you'll have a plaque outside your office and everything."
Hermione could feel heat rising in her cheeks, not only from the compliments, but from the glances they were getting from other tables. Draco was like this sometimes. When they were in the magical community, he was always reserved and in control. But sometimes, when they were out and about in their Muggle neighbourhood, he allowed himself to become a bit more enthusiastic.
"I will." Hermione smiled down at her plate. "But actually, it won't say Hermione Granger. Not for long, anyway."
When she looked up again, Draco tilted his head for a moment before his eyes went wide with understanding.
"Hermione Malfoy, then?"
Hermione beamed. She expected another compliment or perhaps some more praise. Maybe a comment about their upcoming wedding that was only a few weeks away. Some wedding planning detail or other.
Instead, he went silent for a moment. His pupils dilated to make his eyes turn nearly completely black. In his face, Hermione saw one thing rise above all others.
Want. No—need.
"We're going home. Right now."
The low tone of his voice sent a shiver right to Hermione's core. She rubbed her thighs together, as she had been doing so often these days. How could he do that to her with just a few words? Hermione pondered this as he called the waiter over to have him box up their leftovers. The moment the check had been paid, Shiloh was in Draco's arms and they were marching back up the street toward home.
With each step they took, Hermione felt her body thrum with electricity. She wondered briefly what they would do with Shiloh, who was definitely awake and alert. But she didn't worry. Draco seemed confident. Like he had the perfect plan.
The moment they stepped through the wards and past the front door, Draco headed straight for the fireplace. He set Shiloh down just before he stuck his head into the emerald flames.
"Malfoy Manor!"
Hermione barely had time to hear Narcissa answer Draco's floo call before she put the pieces together. With a giddy tone she hardly recognised, she turned to Shiloh.
"Pixie, how would you like to spend the night with your Grandmother?"
Hermione knew that Malfoy Manor wasn't exactly the most welcoming place for children. But Shiloh had visited several times, often returning with a wide smile on her face and a report that her grandmother had let her chase butterflies in the garden and have tea like a real lady.
Thankfully, Shiloh squealed and began jumping up and down.
As Draco hammered out the details, Hermione summoned an overnight bag with pyjamas and a toothbrush from down the hall. Within three minutes, Shiloh stepped up to the fire with her dad, ready to have a sleepover at the Manor. Draco took her hand as they prepared to leave.
"Ready to go?"
Shiloh nodded, her eyes sparkling.
Draco turned his head to face Hermione. His eyes were glinting with anything but innocent thoughts. Hermione's breath caught in her throat.
"I'll see you in just a minute."
The moment father and daughter vanished, Hermione tore across the house toward the master bedroom. In a flash, she shed the plain skirt and blouse she wore under her Ministry robes in exchange for something from the newest drawer in her dresser. It was something, much like sex, that she hadn't given much thought to until recently. The contents brushed up against her fingers, soft and silky in all shades.
With no time to be discerning, Hermione grabbed the first set of matching lingerie she could find and pulled it on. Black lace. Silky across her core. Practically see-through. When she looked down, she could see her nipples outlined clearly beneath the bralette. And the knickers hardly covered her arse, which she knew Draco adored.
A quick leap across the bedroom to the loo, and Hermione was ready just in time to hear the Floo roar to life again. Fighting the urge to cover up with a towel or robe, she slipped from their bedroom and sat in the middle of the couch as Draco stepped through.
He dusted himself off.
And then his jaw dropped. "Hermione, you—"
"That's the future Mrs. Malfoy to you." Her voice came out as a purr, and she could see the immediate reaction in Draco's trousers.
Hermione stood from the couch and reached out one of her arms to grab ahold of Draco's standard issue St. Mungo's tie. Pulling her future husband to her, she thought that perhaps, a bit more time as a family of three wouldn't be such a bad thing. Especially if it meant more time to explore this new side of their relationship.
I've been looking forward to writing Draco and Hermione as more sexually open and curious. I'm quite pleased with that development.
I also am really proud of the little personality I've given Shiloh. She's very distinct in my mind.
I hope you're enjoying the fluff! I'd love to know what you think, as always! Reviews make my entire day when I get them. I don't typically get a lot of feedback for this story. Even just some hearts or a couple words mean a lot.
I don't see a ton of fics that do a deep dive of the HEA, and I just really wanted to solidify Draco and Hermione's HEA after all the suffering they've gone through. It's a bit self-indulgent, I know, but I hope you're enjoying it as well.
The next chapter is... the long-anticipated WEDDING!