"Hello, my princess!" William beamed, cupping his little girl's face and showering her with kisses, earning small giggles and hugs from her. "Oh, I've missed you!"
"William, she was just here yesterday," Jane chided her husband with an eye roll and a tsk. "Bring my loves here, darling! Oh, I've missed you two!"
"They were just here yesterday, my Queen," William teased his wife with a quirk of his brow. She raised her nose at him and turned her head, making him chuckle.
"Here you go, thing one and thing two," Hermione chirped, playfully poking Rosie's tummy, making the little three year old's lips widen into a large grin with a giggle. The family visited over dinner, taking dessert into the family room where Rosie wandered about playing.
"So, poppet, I was talking to some of the—medi-nurses?" William began, questioning whether he had the right word.
"Medi-witches, daddy," she corrected him. His brows rose with an 'ahh.'
"Well, I was talking to some of them at Aceso," he restarted, "and we got on the subject of childcare. I thought it would be a wonderful idea if we hired you a nanny."
"A governess is too expensive, daddy," Hermione denied, shaking her head. The man merely waved his hand.
"Tosh, I looked into the prices, they're not that bad at all, Princess," he insisted, pulling out a few packets. Ron pulled his lips to the side in apprehension.
"I dunno, sir," he mumbled, "governesses are typically pureblooded, and tend to be purists."
"Ah, these ones are muggle-borns!" William laid out the packets, a challenging smile playing on his lips. "They're all well read and have similar ideas as you, poppet. Having one will allow you to work more closely on your campaign."
"I don't think you really need to do that, 'Mione," Ron sighed, his shoulders slouching. "You already work so much on that mess, and it's starting to bring about negative reactions towards you, and what if you're not alone next time there is an attack and have one of the kids?"
"Ron, I don't care how it effects me. Of course, I care if it begins to negatively impact the children," Hermione responded, picking a file up and reading over it, "but this is something I need to do—it's what I feel like I'm in this world to do. Oh, look this one knows hand-to-hand, I've been learning self-defense myself."
"The others know it, too," William chimed in, "if you going down your path is bringing such undesirable attention, as Ron says, then you can't be too careful."
"That's true," Hermione agreed, nodding and eventually sighing, "you already put a deposit in, didn't you, daddy? That's why you're trying to hard sell me."
"I just want to be sure you're all well taken care of, my love," William insisted. The man had decided he'd go in half with the young wizard who brought the situation to his attention. While talking more about it with the young man, if he had to surmise, Draco seemed very much not fond of Hermione's husband, and truth be told, he wasn't really either. Ron seemed like an okay fellow, but he didn't seem to support Hermione's aspirations, which was just as important as supporting your spouse in anything else in life.
"Fine, fine, daddy," the young woman sighed, an endearing smile pulling on her lips. "I'll give one of them a trial."
"Good, excellent!" William beamed. Ron, however, was not feeling excellent about this at all.
"So, which one of these would you choose, Draco?" Hermione questioned once she came out of his bathroom from changing. She leaned against his island countertop, spreading out the files for him to take a look at. The blond raised a brow tilting his head to read the packets better.
"What are these?" He asked just before realizing they were his candidates for her governess. It hadn't occurred to him that she would ask his advice on selecting one.
"The governesses that Daddy and you decided on," she supplied, a snarky tone lacing her voice. Draco cleared his throat, dragging the files around for him to view. Clearly she had figured things out— so much for secrecy.
"Oh, okay," he muttered, picking one of the packets up. Before he could start re-reading on one of the young witches he had chosen, the witch in front of him snatched it back out of his hand, setting it down on the counter crossly.
"Don't you ever use my father against me again," Hermione bit out, glaring up at him, a light red tinging her cheeks. He supposed that is what it seemed like he did. That isn't how he intended it to look, but there was really no arguing with her.
"Yes, ma'am," Draco quickly replied, his head nodding. "It will not happen again, Miss Granger."
"Good, I'm assuming you're paying for this little expense." The brunette stacked the files on top of one another, pointing at the one he had picked up. "This one then?"
"Y-yes, that one, Dea," he confirmed. "We are splitting the cost, he insisted. William understood exactly my need to dote on you, and my dislike of you not being able to focus on your aspirations as closely as you'd like."
"Well, of course, daddy feels the need to dote on me, he's my father," she stated with a sigh. The brunette led him to his training room, taking him by surprise and effectively dropping him to his knees, standing over him with her hands on her hips with a chastising gaze across her features. " What other schemes are you working on, Draco?"
"I thought about perhaps having mother contact you about a gala to help garner support for the campaign, and speaking with my staff about publicly backing your work—I mean, that is something right up Aceso's alley." He stared up at his Dea as her lips pursed in thought, his heart racing far faster than it need be. The blond never even imagined the little witch would be able to drop him so easily.
"Draco, you can't offer your hospital up like that," the witch denied, shaking her head. Draco grasped her hand, gently caressing her knuckles with his thumb as he caught her wide hazels with his greys.
"Hermione, everything I have become," he began, swallowing nervously, "all that I have built and created, it has all been for you. It's all so that I can appease you, so I can best support and take care of you as you need. I don't know how many times I need to say it, but I belong to you, Dea, you own me—command me and it will be done."
"You're insufferable," Hermione breathed in, running her free hand through her wild curls. This wizard was too much, he wanted to give her far too much. Every year on her birthday and on Christmas she always received an unmarked gift—a book, or flowers, sometimes a spa treatment—which she ended up giving to her mother, but the damned prat found out and started sending two. Even little Rose began to receive gifts once she was born, and she suspects Hugo will, too. "If you want to do something for me, you can finish what you started and file the paperwork for the governess—I did promise daddy I'd trial one of them."
"Of course, Dea, as soon as we are finished here, I'll go to the agency." Draco nodded, still caressing her hand. "Anything else? It's been awhile since I've sent you and your mother to the spa. Or perhaps one of those little workshops you like to take Rosie to."
"No, Draco, it is neither our birthday, nor Christmas. You're just as bad as daddy," the witch grumbled, reaching a hand out and slipping her fingers around the tie in his hair and tugging it out for herself. His greys swirled with amusement as her hands tied back her brunette tendrils. She could have anything of his and she steals his hair tie— sassy witch. "He's always trying to give me presents when it's not called for."
"I think William and I are going to get along splendidly," Draco opined, a smirk playing across his lips as his witch huffed with her hands on her hips once more. She has lovely hips—thick, wide—he had to pull himself away from those thoughts. It was always hard to do when that was her preferred place to rest her hands.
"Since when have you called my father by his name?" She questioned before turning and walking further onto mats. The blond stood to follow behind her, surprising her with an attack of his own, she almost got free from his takedown, ending up on the floor instead.
"Since he and I agree that you deserve to be given the world," he answered from above her. The witch's leg rose, her knee applying pressure on the back of his, bringing him closer to the floor so that she could better yank him down and wrap her legs around the one he fell on and flip him. Hermione ended up on her knees, straddling the leg she used as leverage. One of her brows quirked when she resituated herself, her knee accidentally grazing him as he lay flattened on his back, making him jump. "Whoa, watch what you're doing, Hermione."
"Why should I?" Her voice peaked as her head cocked to the side, a taunting glint in her eye. The light pressure was back to being applied against his bullocks, making him hiss at the surge of desire coursing through him, he swiftly sat up, adjusting away from her knee as his hands rested on her waist to keep her from attempting to move closer to him. "Did you not just say you belong to me—that I own you, Draco? Meaning I can do whatever it is I want with you, correct?"
"Y-yes, ma'am, it's just," Draco stammered out as a sweet honey dripped down his spine, throwing his body into a shiver at the soft tone that was flitting through his ears— shite, Dea, you're so damned intoxicating. The blond swallowed and cleared his throat, afraid to speak and his voice give him away. "Y-you're married, Dea. I won't let you do something you'll hate yourself for later. I know you're not exactly happy with him— yet again, but that doesn't mean you believe it's okay to cheat on him."
"You're right, of course," she sighed, lifting her leg and pivoting so she could sit next to him, her knees folded up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them as her forehead rest on one knee. "I'm starting to feel suffocated, like I'm trapped. Before we had Rose, we talked about my goals and he was all for them. I was fine with him leaving the Corp to go help George at the shop. So, I don't understand why it is so hard for him to support me on this.
"I don't want seven children with a menial job at the Ministry. When daddy brought the governess up last night, Ron said I shouldn't be continuing with my campaign, it's bringing too much dangerous attention to me and it could come back on the children. Then I read that they knew hand-to-hand, which is how I knew it was you behind the idea, by the way. I don't know what to do, Draco."
"I don't know, Hermione," Draco muttered, shrugging with a sigh. He knew what he wanted to tell her— leave the weasel, I'll support you in everything, Draco silently told her. That would be selfish of him, though. He knew Hermione really did care for Weasley and she would be heartbroken, once again concerning the imbecile. "That's up for you to decide. Perhaps, a spa day for you and your mother is actually needed after all."
"Maybe," she sighed, falling back onto the mat and staring up at the rafters.
"I'll get an appointment set up, Dea," he told her, his hand resting on her ankle and carefully squeezing. "Besides, you've been training hard, you deserve it. I don't think we're getting any in today, though."
"It would seem not," she chuckled as she sat up, standing to her feet and holding a hand out to help him up.
"Woman, I weigh twice as much as you," Draco scoffed, accepting her hand anyway, but using the strength in his legs to push himself up.
"Yeah, yeah," she rolled her eyes, "I get it, I'm little."
"Adorably so," Draco laughed, dodging a swing from her. He followed her back upstairs, letting her use the bathroom to change again before she collected the children to go. The blond kissed her knuckles as he bid her farewell. "Have a good day, Dea. I'll go file your paperwork."
"Okay, thank you," she replied, buckling Hugo in. "Have a good day, Draco. See you later.
Draco changed into a set of muggle casuals and kissed Scorpius on the head before heading out to complete his task. His witch seemed to be a bit more receptive to their arrangement as of late. It was about bloody time, it's only been eleven years. He filed the paperwork at the agency, setting up the payment arrangement before leaving and Disapparating home to Scorpius and buckling him into his 2009 Vauxhall Corsa, the two were going over to his parents' home to talk to his mother about a gala.
Draco pulled into their drive, throwing his car into park before turning around and unbuckling Scorp, letting him climb up front and scooping him up to head into the travel room of his mother and father's little manor. Malfoy Manor, the ancient house of dark magic was no longer in the family. The Ministry confiscated the property along with various belongings, to which Draco said 'good riddance.' This new place suited them far better. What did they need with so many rooms anyhow?
"Mother!" He called out as he and his carbon copy advanced down a corridor. As the two took a few more steps forward, Scorpius sitting on Draco's shoulders, Narcissa stepped in from her greenhouse.
"Draco?" She questioned before spotting him.
"Gamma!" Scorpius called out, reach his arms down towards the regal looking woman.
"Oh! My little angel!" Narcissa cooed, reaching for her grandson, not liking the height he was sitting at. "What are you two doing here, darling?"
"We came to visit," Draco said, letting his little slide off his shoulder to the ground, "and talk to you about a potential gala."
"Hm," Narcissa merely quirked a brow as she picked Scorpius up, leading Draco down the corridor and into a little tearoom. It was a brightly lit room, with an enormous window that overlooked the back gardens. The air was freeing and not at all gloomy and oppressive like their previous home once was. As Draco looked at his mother, a small sideways smile pulled at his lips, this was how his mother was suppose to live.
"You are absolutely beautiful, mother," Draco mused, his hands resting on her cheeks and delicately kissing her forehead. The man pulled away and stifled a chuckle as a faint pink hue painted her cheeks, her freehand swatting at him.
"Well, I'm not sure what it is you want, but flattery will get you nowhere," the witch sniffed, lowering herself into a chaise with no struggle at all, despite having been holding his three year old.
"Oh, come now, mother," Draco began, "that has nothing to do with what I want. I just merely felt like stating the obvious."
"Mn, yes," she hummed with a quirked brow. "What is this gala, then?"
"You remember Hermione Granger," he prodded, lowering himself into a chair across from her, crossing his ankle over his knee. The blonde woman inclined her head, shifting slightly.
"Yes, of course," Narcissa confirmed, "how could I ever forget her?"
"My sentiments exactly," Draco replied, resting an elbow on the arm of the chair as his hand landed on his knee, his voice continuing to mumble out, "there's absolutely no possible way."
"Mn, what about her, my love?" The woman quirked a brow, bringing him back from his thoughts. He could get lost thinking of her if he wasn't careful some days.
"Ahem—she is waging a campaign as of late," he quickly cleared his throat and set his mind back on task, "having to do with the unity of magical and non-magical people. As you can imagine, she's not being met with the most welcoming arms. There are still quite a few traditionalists."
"Yes, there are. Does Miss Granger have many heavyweight names backing her?" His mother inquired, soothing the baby fine hair of his son in her lap. She always had a way with him, always able to keep the high energy child calmed.
"Well, I imagine she has Potter in her corner," Draco guessed, not really knowing her support base well. The witch only just started talking to him regularly. "I'm sure Weasley would be, if it weren't so dangerous."
"Oh, has the poor thing been targeted?" His mother questioned, an underlying tone of worry riddling her voice. His lips twitched at the sound. Draco's mother has always been so kind-hearted. That's why he found it so hard to stay away from the war in his youth, his mother was forced to be in the thick of it thanks to his father, and he very well couldn't leave her on her own.
"Unfortunately, that is the case," he sighed out, dragging a hand through his hair. "She has taken up training, though, to further her success at surviving her attacks. What do you think, mother?"
"About what part, specifically?" She cocked her head to the side with a curious gaze.
"Do you care to assist the Wizarding World's darling Heroine?" Draco questioned, a challenging expression crossing his features. Narcissa sat in silence for a few moments, idly playing with her grandson's hair.
"As with all of my clients, I should like to have a meeting with her before I accept any arrangements," she finally informed him, earning a nod from the young wizard.
"I will let her know," the blond stated in thought. His thoughts, as they always did, went straight back to his savior. A faint drop of curiosity rippled in his chest, just another one of her many feelings that he felt constantly. He wasn't complaining, he did it to himself after all. Feeling the bond was reassurance that she was still alive, and not dead somewhere.
Me: When you have the availability, mother would like to meet with you regarding your campaign.
Dea: Oh, okay. I'll let you know when I'm free.
Draco and Scorp visited with his mother for some time before he was driving them home. He made sure his little was settled and not giving problems for his governess before he changed into his scrubs and Apparated to work. The healer had a few muggle surgeries scheduled for the afternoon and evening. Despite them being procedures that didn't require his patients to be put under, he would still need to do so in order to work the way he normally did, they still had their secrecy to uphold, for now. When you floo into Aceso, it takes you to a separate lobby than the muggle lobby, which has charmed messages stating there are muggles in the building and to please do not use magic.
Since Hermione's surgery there, William has visited the hospital from time to time, ever curious like his daughter. He would converse with the staff, trying to learn what he could from them. When it seemed like he wasn't getting the information he wanted, he would sometimes seek Draco himself out. The healer had just finished a quick procedure a few days later, when he ran into William. It was comical the way his features lit like Hermione's did.
"Healer Malfoy! Just the man I was looking for," William exclaimed, keeping his voice at an acceptable volume so as not to disturb anyone.
"Good afternoon, William. How can I help you?" Draco greeted the man with a small smile, but it faltered somewhat. "This isn't about Hermione is it?"
"Oh, no, no, I'm sure she is just fine," he assured the blond with a wave of his hand. "I was just here to see if you cared to stop in for a cuppa, I would love to pick your brain."
"Oh, good," the wizard mumbled before the man's invitation to their home. "I wouldn't mind at all. My last scheduled surgery is at five this evening. Would that be too late?"
"No, no, not at all," William said with a grin. "Well, I'll let you get back to your work, I've errands to run and if I don't finish them, I'm afraid my queen will have my head."
"Best not delay, then," Draco chuckled. "See you later, William."
After the healer's shift, he popped in at home to shower and change, checking in with Scorpius, making sure he was eating and behaving well. While home, Draco called the parlor he sent his Dea and her mother to for their spa days, but they were booked once again. Valentine's did just past about a month ago, couples had probably gave certificates to the high-end shop—he was contemplating finding another place to send them. For now, he Apparated over to the Granger home, where he'd find himself for random invitations of tea for the next few days. Both dentists would indeed pick his brain on the knowledge he had acquired over the years of healer training—it was easy to see where Hermione developed her tenacious appetite for knowledge.