The deadline was two weeks away, and his partner still hadn't revealed any plans to rectify that. "I wouldn't mind being reassigned a new partner," Draco froze mid-step as a group of children shot out a shop in Diagon. "Granger might mind though"

Potter blew out a breath, ridiculous fringe flying upward and shot Draco an obscene gesture. "Thanks for your concern." Sarcasm dripped heavily from his words.

"She did mention though, how a couple weeks ago she popped into your flat and got a surprise. Granger didn't recognize who it was, of course, considering she told me that she could barely see either of you while you stumbling down the hall."

Turning a shade paler, Harry twitched uncomfortably. "I don't want to talk about this with you here."

"So, you planned on not talking to me about it at all?" As they passed another stretch of shops, Potter yanked him into an alley, his face pinker than it had been seconds earlier.

Raising his hand away from the view of the street, he dispelled a glamour and right there, Draco could see a gold band wrapped around his finger.

"Holy shite," he breathed. Draco still didn't understand for certain why his partner had chosen to hide this, but he could guess. "When did this happen?"

"The night Hermione tried to come to my flat." Harry grimaced and shifted his weight. "It hadn't been planned, but it happened and she's—"

His relief that Potter wasn't trying to skirt the law quickly dissipated and he smacked the back of Potter's head.

"Hey!"

"Don't worry, that ridiculous mop of hair is sure to protect you." He growled. "You've apparently been married for little over a month, and you never stopped to think it would be appropriate to tell—"

Harry cast his eyes toward the clouds looming overhead, threatening to crack open at any moment. "I know I should have told you, but—"

"You should have fucking told Hermione!" Draco snapped, teeth baring and his eyes narrowing. "Or have you somehow forgotten about her. About this tall" —he held his hand to the middle of his chest— "curly hair, or I don't know, the one who's saved your life so many bloody times—"

Now, Harry's face really did drain of colour. "She's been busy, and I know it's been an adjustment—"

"Don't lie to me." He nudged a large rock with the toe of his boot and shook his head. "Whatever your reasons are, there was no reason to keep it from her. I assume you're concerned about the press due who you are, and you wanted to protect this witch for as long as you could."

"Yes."

"But I'm not going to lie to Granger about it." Throngs of people still continued to pass behind him, and neither of them turned to see if anyone was listening. "I'm not going to give her a reason to be cross with me on your behalf."

Potter started to laugh. "I'll tell her myself, just give me until the end of the day."

He didn't want to give him even that, but Draco nodded before turning to walk out of the alley, nearly knocking over a witch. "Pardon me, miss. Are you alright?"

She didn't answer, and she didn't lift the brim of her hat, and honestly, as an Auror, Draco should have recognized that something was off.

They had plans to meet at the Leaky Cauldron, as weekend tradition mandated, since there hadn't been time to do so since the beginning of the current political climate. Draco found Hermione and Pansy were the first ones there, seated closely together at the bar while Granger sipped water. As he neared them—and neither of them noticed—he overhead the end of the conversation.

"—not drinking?" Pansy smiled at the bartender who slid a glass her way and she offered it to Granger. "Just a sip if you like."

Shaking her head, but still laughing under her breath with the corners of her eyes crinkling, Granger said, "I'm on a new set of potions, and I'm not sure how booze will affect it. Since I'd rather be safe than sorry, I'll pass for tonight."

Then a glass of Ogdens was placed in front of her, and he thought it was strange.

Draco tapped her on the shoulder and she glanced up at him. He bent down to kiss her while ignoring the obnoxious gagging sounds Pansy gave. "Have you ordered anything? I already have a tab here." He'd expected it to be an argument, or at the very least, a mildly spirited argument. Granger didn't want his money, and she was happy to pay for anything on her own.

Pansy chimed in. "Already did," and she took a long drink.

"I charged this to your account." Hermione barely held in her laugh as Pansy ordered another drink with the words of be sure to put it on Malfoy's tab. "It's for you, not for me."

He leaned against the bar in the space between them, gripping the top of the glass before running his finger around the rim. "Yes, I overheard you say that you weren't."

She busied herself by fidgeting with a button on his jacket, and nodded to her side as he heard Weasley arrive. "I don't want to test my luck, and I've noticed other side effects, so I think it would be safer not to be pissed as well."

"Well, if you're choosing not to drink, I don't have to—"

Granger stretched up while still sitting in her stool. "Don't worry about that. I want you to drink with our friends, and then later we can go home." There was something he couldn't place in the way her voice trailed off.

"You mentioned other side effects? What, exactly?"

Her grin was nearly feral. Slipping her hands under his jacket, she dragged her palms down his sides, then along the waist of his trousers while they were hidden from public view. "I had serious doubts that an increased sex drive would happen to me."

He wanted to snog her and set her on the countertop while stepping between her parted legs.

The image only made blood rush to his cock.

"I'm really glad you wore your uniform, too." Granger pecked his cheek and slid off her seat. "Harry's here. I'll be right back."

He drained the glass in one go—partly because he knew what Potter was about to tell her—before asking for another and pushing away from the bar. Catching the sight of Granger coming back to him, Draco was puzzled by the smile still fixed on her face, and over her head, Potter shook his head.

Fucking hell.

Seated at a table large enough to accomodate them all, Granger ran her fingers along the inside of his thigh beneath it, and carried on conversations as though nothing was happening. Each time her fingers brushed the ridge of his cock, she'd timed it with the same moment that he took a drink.

She smirked every time he nearly choked.

They talked about cases in the DMLE, which had been the least entertaining story, though someone else might not have believed that.

Pansy announced that she planned to open a clothing boutique in Diagon Alley within a year while also mentioning that her parents had sent her an owl containing what wasn't quite an apology, but something that was as close as they would get to one.

As it came to the little minx beside him, she wrapped her hand around his cock through his trousers and slowly stroked him, and the top of her arm hardly moved, so no one noticed at all. "Actually, I do have something I'm excited to share. I've been working with Draco's parents at the orphanage for about a month—which has been a dream job—but today, Lucius and I decided to start a new project as well. Early this morning, house elves were alerted to someone entering the wards, and discovered a toddler on their steps." Her fingers had stopped at this point, and dropped back to her side.

He didn't mind. Draco leaned forward, enthralled by the determined curve to her lips and the way her gaze could be soft and hard at the same time.

"It seems he may have been attacked by a werewolf, and we know there is no record of it within the Department of Magical creatures. Lucius checked this morning. Neither of us, or a healer at St Mungos are sure there will be a change on this month's full moon, but I hope that won't be the case. The fact of the matter is that there's no proper regulation and distribution for Wolfsbane, and Lucius suggested we work to change that."

He linked their fingers together under the table, beaming with pride for her, and then his own irritation set in.

"Potter," Draco drawled. "Do you have anything to share?" All eyes shifted toward his partner, but Harry didn't say anything. In fact, he had the nerve to look shocked. "No? I thought you did, apologies."

As the Canons' latest match became the new topic of conversation, Draco leaned down to whisper in his wife's ear. "Will you come with me for a minute?"

"You're not going to try to shag me in the loo, are you?"

He chuckled. "I've considered that more than a few times in the last hour, but no. Come with me, and bring your handbag with you too." Draco caught the panicked look that flashed across Potter's face, and shook his head.

Leading Granger into the corridor by the loo, Draco tucked his hands in his pockets. "I probably should have told you earlier, but he asked me to let him and I thought he would."

She frowned, and a line formed between her brows. "Who are you talking about? Harry? What was that" —she motioned toward the table— "about?"

"Do you remember when you went to his flat, and there was someone there? You didn't know who it was?"

"I always meant to ask him, but I worried that it wasn't something that lasted, or… Do you know who it is?"

He shook his head. "Potter wouldn't tell me, but apparently—fuck, I'm sorry I didn't just tell you as soon as I got here. Potter married that witch on that same night. I only found out today when I practically forced him into telling me because I pointed out that he only had two weeks."

Granger fell silent. She stared at her shoes, wiggling her toes, and sighed. "I'm not mad at you, if that's what has you worked up. The two of you are close friends, and I would be more upset if you hadn't given him the chance to tell me himself. However, he's had plenty of time."

"I didn't want you to believe I was keeping it from you since you were groping me under the table."

Her cheeks caught fire.

"To be clear, I enjoyed the groping. Very much so."

She looked back at the table where Potter was staring to both of them, and shook her head. "I was going to talk to him now, but I'm really not in the mood to deal with this. He made a choice, and since he's waited so long already, I think he can wait until tomorrow morning."

"If it helps, I think it may have been because he wanted to hide from the press. He probably wanted to protect the witch from them as well."

"I know." She slipped her hand into his as they made their way toward the exit and stepped outside. "But I'm not the press. Maybe I shouldn't feel quite so hurt by it, and I'll probably calm down entirely tomorrow, but I just want to go home with you right now."

"Were you serious about your…"

When they reached the Apparition point, she smirked. "Draco, I've been waiting for you to get home all bloody day and it's been a terribly long day."

They landed in their sitting room, and her fingers were undoing the buttons of his uniform before he managed to say anything. Granger pulled him toward her by his tie, doubling it over her knuckles while stretching up to slam her lips to his. She was a frenzy against him, nipping his lips while guiding him down the hallway, pieces of their clothes falling away as they stumbled together.

A weak mewl slipped between her teeth when he picked her up and she wasted no time at all in wrapping her legs around him.

In a move that had all the air of a well practiced move between the two of them, her head tipped backward as his lips reached her pulse, and her fingers tightened in his hair, her heels digging into the bottom of his back. "Draco—"

They fell into bed together, and she took the chance to straddle his hips while bending down, her hair falling into a curtain, tumbling and tumbling over her shoulder. He tore the lace at her waist, cock hardening when she whimpered and ground down on him.

Sitting up was a struggle as she tried to push him back down, nails cutting into his shoulders, but he sat up fully with her still draped in his lap and her arms over his shoulders. "Fuck—" escaped him in a jagged breath, splintered and raw as she slid against him, the folds of her cunt slick against his cock and his fingers tightened so roughly on her waist, he worried he could bruise her.

"I want—"

Draco didn't want to deny her, and he had no intention of doing so, but she whined anyway when he stopped her from sliding down the length of him. "Hermione—sweetheart, fuck—"

She'd bitten his throat, a sensitive spot that would leave a mark in the morning.

He wanted to do the same to her, love bites where no one could see, but she'd be sore from the feel of them.

Whispering in her ear, Draco promised that he'd take care of her while slipping his hand between their bodies, and found her already soaked.

Muttering that she didn't want to wait, Granger kissed him hard as he laid her down across their shared bed, watching her hair unfurl against the pillows. Nibbling a path down her throat—which he was intimately acquainted with—he circled her clit with two fingers, his pace quickening and slowing with her breathing.

Hermione watched him, her hips lifting off the bed as he knelt between her legs, his hands settling on either of her thighs, and he stroked the sensitive flesh there until she shivered. She was in the middle of telling him that he was taking too long when his tongue dipped between her folds, sliding up her slit and he held her legs open.

"Draco," she moaned, pressing her hips forward, her hands finding his against the wrinkled sheets to lace their fingers together. "Right there—" Hermione shuddered as his tongue moved over her clit, and he sucked it between his lips, rolling his tongue across it in the same motion.

Watching her like this was easily the most enticing thing he'd ever witnessed. Sweat formed on her brow, her cheeks turned pink, and she writhed against him.

Granger knew what she liked—knew that he knew what she liked—and she got off on the play of teasing.

Of bringing her to the edge multiple times over until her cunt was dripping and her thighs shaking.

He dragged his tongue over her clit slowly, and then again faster each time as she cried out his name. Draco sucked on the sensitive bundle again as she came, his teeth grazing just barely, and felt her sit up while sinking her fingers into his hair until she nearly sobbed in relief.

She pushed him to the bed and swung one leg over him while she straddled him. Whispering his name in hushed tones even though they were the only ones in the room, she crushed her lips to his while taking each inch of him torturously slow. "I've been waiting all day for this."

He thought that he might have been waiting too—but he always felt as though he was just waiting to see her again.

Holding onto her hips tightly, Draco sat upright, and watched a bead of sweat drip from her chin and slide between her breasts.

Knotting her fingers in his hair, Hermione gave the smallest sounds to the right of his ear, her nails scraping his scalp as he slid into her.

"I could spend the rest of my life like this," she whispered. "Just like this with you."

He wanted to tell her he loved her, but it was too soon, and it would still be true—perhaps even more so when it was time—and it had always been true.

He watched her. The way her eyes slid closed, and the way she pressed against him harder as he fucked her.

Every bit of her was intoxicating.

It felt monumental by the time that passed while she rode him, lifting herself up on her knees to take him again while he gripped her arse. Granger leaned her forehead to his between the desperate, slow kisses that came when she bent down.

It also felt like she was trying to tell him something.

The next morning, after joining Granger in the shower, Draco pulled a pair of joggers on and didn't bother with a shirt. The joggers he wore were the first pair he'd ever owned—having never fully adjusted to muggle clothing—but she'd bought them for him and he would be a liar if he said they weren't as comfortable as she promised them to be. This particular piece of muggle fashion had its perks, however. Whenever Granger wore hers, they were more form fitting, and her arse looked fantastic.

Much as he had been taught to open doors for witches in order to be a gentleman, the view wasn't bad either.

With Crooks stubbornly meowing at his heel, the half-Kneazle followed Draco down the corridor until he stopped just before entering the sitting room.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." Potter's voice came, and there was a crackle that gave away it was a Floo call.

Draco clenched his jaw when he realized that Potter hadn't even thought to apologize in person.

"I don't understand why you wouldn't think to tell me. I know you wanted to keep it private, but since when does that mean you need to keep it from me?"

Stepping into the room, Draco made sure to avoid the Floo and moved into the kitchen and put the kettle on. The conversation between the two of them didn't go on much longer, and Granger's arms slid around his waist while she pressed her cheek to his back.

"Tea?"

"You said coffee made you nauseous yesterday." He replied. "Have you taken your potion already?" Draco felt her nod. "What did Potter say?"

She let go of him, and leaned against the counter, folding her arms over her chest. "He just apologized and told me how he knew it was wrong. I thought I wouldn't be hurt by the time I talked to him, but I'm still upset. Do you think I'm overreacting?"

He paused.

"It's not a trick question."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "That's what you would say if it was a trick question." But she didn't laugh, and he dropped his attempt at comedic relief. "I don't think you're overreacting. It was an arsehole move to get married and not tell anyone. Then to keep it from his closest friends? I think he's not thought things through before, but maybe take the space you need to be upset, and then work through it, yeah?"

Hermione nodded. "Would you like to know who it is?"

He nearly dropped his cup when his head whipped toward her. "You know?"

"You're such a gossip!" Granger snorted. "One hint of gossip and you're ready to must fit in rather nicely with all the society witches you know."

"I think you know very well that I do not fit in with those witches, and I take offense to that. I'm no gossip, just well-informed."

She cocked her head to the side. "Right, because someone well-informed would care. Well, we went to Hogwarts with her, and she's also Harry's ex-girlfriend."

Draco shook his head. "No, he told me that he wouldn't marry her, and they would never be getting back together." Plus, the last he'd heard, the youngest Weasley had decided to marry Neville Longbottom too.

"He didn't marry Ginny. He married Cho Chang."

He remembered her being in Ravenclaw, and even vaguely remembered seeing her with Potter in Hogsmeade.

"She'll be joining us this Friday at the Leaky Cauldron, too." Granger flipped the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet over and pushed it toward Draco as he neared the table. "Looks like Rita Skeeter had already found out though since this arrived this morning."

Turning past the title page, Draco found the full article on page two and found it to be just as messy as he expected.

It wasn't what held his attention though. A bit to the right, there was a much smaller article that contained the name of his ex, and above it was a picture of her on the arm of Marcus Flint. "Astoria got married yesterday. It's on page two. I'm sure she's furious to be outshined by Potter."

Granger pulled the paper toward her, and read over it herself. "This is surprising. Marcus Flint is…"

He was a wanker, but she wasn't likely to say that. "I'm glad it's built into the law that matches are unable to harm one another. I certainly wouldn't trust him."

Her brows drew together. "Do you think he'd try anyway? Is it possible for you to check on her?"

Draco choked. "Granger, I cannot just drop in on her."

"Then maybe another Auror could do so? Or a mutual friend you two share? What about Theo since he's marrying her sister?" Words coming out in a rush, Granger appeared to be genuinely worried. "I don't hold anything against her, Draco and from what I remember in school, Marcus Flint wasn't kind. He was a bully, and he knocked me into a wall more than once."

"I didn't know that." Draco muttered, his voice harsh. "I'll talk to Theo when I see him. Daphne's quite protective, and I have doubts Theo would stay home while she went. Don't worry about this, alright?"

She closed the paper, and nodded.