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CHAPTER 20

"I heard a rumour."

I grinned; the voice behind me was as familiar as my son's.

"And what rumour would that be?" I enquired as I turned around.

"That you were exceptionally happy and more smug than usual."

I laughed and shook the hand of Draco's long-time friend, Blaise Zabini. The two had been friends since primary school, and Blaise had been as much a fixture in my life as Draco when they were growing up.

"Blaise," I greeted. "It's been… how long has it been?"

"Well over a year, I suspect," he answered. "And I hear life is treating you well, Lucius."

"Very well." I glanced quickly at Hermione. "And I trust the real estate game is treating you equally as well."

"Exceptionally well, in fact," he said with a smirk. "You're happy with your new place?"

I laughed; the man was a born salesman. "Exceptionally happy."

"So…" He paused, hesitating before asking me the question I knew was coming. "Which one is she?"

"The one with all the children hanging off her." I nodded towards the play gym where Hermione had three giggling children wrapped around her legs.

He looked back and forth between Hermione and me, his expression one I was becoming accustomed to: wide-eyed, mouth agape, confusion at the age gap.

"She's…" He glanced back and forth between us again.

"She's…?" I encouraged, assuming the response would be the usual one.

"She's stunning." He shook his head and smiled. "Absolutely stunning."

It was my turn to be shocked. The age gap was usually the most commented on aspect, so to have him completely ignore that fact and focus instead just on her was surprising.

"How did you manage to land her?"

"She was my neighbour and we met in the hallway outside our flats," I explained, not wanting to tell him the wall thumping story. I knew him too well and he would insist on labelling Hermione with a highly inappropriate nickname. "We became friends and things just developed from there."

"Well, I'm impressed, old man," Blaise clapped me on the shoulder, "And it's good to see you smiling again. I'm sure the wicked witch is hating that."

I recalled the conversation I'd had with Draco the previous weekend, and I assumed — since Blaise was well aware of my ex-wife's philandering ways and of her jealous streak — my son had discussed the same with his best mate.

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"Mother was asking about you again," Draco announced as we ate lunch. It was Sunday and Hermione was at lunch with her friends, which now included Katie. So, Draco and I had begun meeting as well. Scorpius was with the girls on this particular day — my grandson having won them all over — and this new routine gave me a chance to spend more time with my son.

"And can I safely assume her enquiries were about Hermione?"

"Yeah. She wanted to know if you were still seeing her. How long you've been with her. If you were living with her. All that shit."

"Of course she did. The woman is a jealous wench."

"I told her it was none of her business," he assured me. "And I haven't responded to any of her texts or calls in more than a week."

"I'm sorry she's using you like this, Draco. She should know better."

"Yeah, she should, but she's proven over and over again she doesn't. And unfortunately the 'no contact' clause in the divorce agreement doesn't extend to me. Perhaps I should look into my own contract with her."

"We'd still be fighting over the divorce if you were a part of that clause. And I'm certain she would try her hardest to sue me if you followed that route. She wouldn't believe you don't wish to see her and would blame me entirely."

"I know, it's just… what the hell is wrong with her? You caught her with another man and she still thinks she can be indignant of you and your life? It's bullshit."

I smiled at my son; his loyalty and ethics were admirable, but I had never wanted the divorce to be a choice between parents for him. HIs mother, however, had almost forced the choice on him.

"Unfortunately your mother will always be who she is. I may have been blind to her actions for more years than I care to think about, but when we were together I did love her. And, I have you because of her. I am not particularly fond of her anymore, but I have no regrets with her in regards to you."

"You did speak to your solicitor about her the last time though?"

"I did," I assured him. "And I had him draft a protection order for Hermione if Narcissa gets too close. She's had enough to deal with, she doesn't need a jealous ex-wife added to her torment."

Draco frowned. "Has something happened? Is Hermione alright?"

"She's fine, Draco. And your concern is heartwarming." I pressed the napkin to my lips and shook my head. "It's not my story to tell, and I've only recently heard it myself, but she wasn't in an especially good relationship a while ago."

"With the wall thumper?"

I laughed. "No, not with the wall thumper. His name is Charlie, by the way, and he is a genuinely good man."

"You've met him?"

"I have. After Hermione told me her story, she also told me Charlie was one of her most trusted friends. And I felt I should meet the man who brought her out of the darkness."

Draco winced, "It was that bad?"

"Unfortunately it was, but the details are hers to tell. If she wishes to."

"I won't push her to tell me, I promise." He pushed the last bite of his Eggs Benedict across his plate, "I really like Hermione and it worries me what Mother might do."

I had to agree with my son. Narcissa was well aware she was supposed to stay away from me, but I knew she had a terrible jealous streak and my want to brag when she approached us at dinner would most likely now come back to bite me.

Narcissa would be able to visit the Royal Ballet at almost any time, and I was certain she would scrutinise Hermione, and most likely make some kind of inane complaint. She was petty enough to sink that low.

"Should I warn her to stay away?" Draco asked. "She barely sees me or Scorpius now. I could threaten her that I'll be completely done with her if she stalks Hermione."

"Your mother is far too shallow to care. And you know that she'd blame me for those actions, not you. She'd assume I'd demanded you do it." I reached for my coffee and drank the last of it, "Your mother will never take any responsibility for any of her indiscretions. Her father spoiled her and she's entitled, and unfortunately I was blind to it and enabled it further."

He nodded slowly, well aware of his mother's nature. "Why did you ever ask her out?"

"She was intriguing. And beautiful. And if I'm being honest, it was easy to ask her out. Had I known she was more attracted to my family's money than me, I may have looked elsewhere. I have many regrets regarding your mother, Draco, but you were the result of my asking, and I'll never regret that."

"I know," he said. "But, I just wish she'd walk away and not be a complete bitch."

"I'll speak with my solicitor. I doubt we can do anything about it right now, but maybe a not so gentle reminder will keep her at a safe distance."

"I hope so, Father. Whatever Hermione has had to deal with, I believe it's only made her more resilient. She's already loyal to you, and me and Katie. And I'm fairly certain Scorp thinks she's the sun and moon combined. Mother really doesn't stand a chance if she decides to take her on."

OoOoOoOoO

"My ex-wife will never be anything more than a spoiled, jealous shrew," I agreed and nodded towards the play gym. "And she'd definitely be hating this."

"NeeNeeNee!"

Scorpius's excited voice cried out as he slid down the slide. The play gym was new and gifted to him for his third birthday — the reason we were in Draco and Katie's garden — and it had turned my shy and gentle grandson into a little daredevil. We'd watched him slide down headfirst more times than we could count.

Hermione scooped him up and his cries of her name dissolved into fits of giggles as she tickled his ribs. I'd given up on him looking for me first; Hermione had become his firm favourite.

He squirmed out of her arms and clambered up the ladder, squealing as he slid headfirst down the green slide again. The other children followed suit and Hermione had her hands full catching them as they laughed and squealed and threw themselves at her.

She glanced over and pointed in my direction, talking to the children as she did so.

"Yes, she certainly has improved my life." I nodded towards my grandson. "But, I do have some competition for her attention."

"The Malfoy charm has spread through three generations then?"

"It definitely has," Hermione said as she approached us. "Scorpius is quite the little charmer. Just like his Gah-pa."

She slipped her arm around my back and smiled at Blaise, holding her hand out. "Hermione Granger."

"Blaise Zabini. Long-time friend of Draco," he said, shaking her offered hand and introducing himself. "I'm glad to see you've made this miserable old sod happy."

"He's done the same for me." She smirked, "And he's far from miserable. Or old."

"Oh, he has used those charms to blind you." Blaise laughed, then leaned towards Hermione, enquiring conspiratorially, "Who's the red-head?"

"That's my friend Ginny. She's single and will eat you alive."

"She's just his type, actually," I interjected. "I've overheard too many conversations between Draco and him regarding strong, dominant women."

"I'll introduce you," she told Blaise, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I'd now spent enough time with Hermione's friends to know that she wasn't lying when she said Ginny would indeed eat Blaise alive. She was feisty and opinionated, and it would give me no greater pleasure to see her bring Blaise to his knees.

"That'd be perfect," Blaise thanked her with a wink. "Draco said you're a dancer?"

"Yes, with the Royal Ballet."

"That makes more sense."

"More sense than what?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"I assumed a seedy nightclub with poles." Blaise answered with a smirk. "This one shoving hundred pound notes in your knickers."

Hermione slapped his arm. "You're gross."

"Hey! It's an honest profession. And the girls make good money."

"I'm not saying it isn't. And those women have amazing strength and coordination." Hermione looked him up and down. "I'm just curious as to why you fantasise about shoving money in the g-strings of strangers? Are you also aware that those notes you're shoving in their knickers have probably already been in the knickers of a dozen other dancers? And that three point five percent of all notes in circulation have cocaine on them? This is not a good first impression. I'm not sure I want to introduce you to my friend."

Blaise glanced at me and I laughed.

"Don't look at me. I can rarely predict what she's going to say."

"Ah, I was just being a smartarse. Sorry."

"Good. Because so was I." She poked his arm. "I don't care if you hang out in strip joints. If I could convince this one to put a pole in his living room, I might give him a private show."

"Jesus," Blaise cursed and began to laugh. "I can see why Draco and Katie love you."

"She definitely makes an interesting first impression," I agreed, kissing her temple. "And I'm having that pole installed this week."

"I only accept hundreds," she quipped. "So, you're in real estate?"

Blaise held his hands up. "Wait. What?"

I flung my arm around her shoulders, finding his confused expression highly amusing.

"She's slightly mad. Mostly you just have to try to keep up."

"How long do you think it was before Scorp was asleep on the sofa?" Hermione asked when we stopped outside the door of my flat.

"I'd guess thirty seconds." I pulled my key from my pocket and grinned, "How long do you think it was before Ginny chewed up and spat out Blaise?"

"Less than thirty seconds ," Hermione laughed.

"I hope she did." I opened the door and held out my arm, but she didn't move. "Are you not staying with me this evening?"

It was still early — not quite six PM — but her usual day off had been disrupted and I wondered if the break in her routine had exhausted her.

"I am," she affirmed. "I just have something for you, and you need to close the door so I can go and get it and surprise you."

"Should I have had that pole installed today?"

"Ha ha, funny man," she drawled. "No. Go inside and wait."

I leaned towards her and held her gaze. "What are you up to?"

"If you go inside, you'll find out." She shoved me into the foyer. "And close the door. No peeking"

"Fine. I'll wait right here, with the door closed, because you're insane."

She grinned and poked a finger into my chest. "And that's why you love me. I'll be back in a minute."

Shaking my head, I closed the door and leaned back on the small foyer table. She was completely mad and I couldn't even put into thought what she was up to. But, a small part of my brain was imagining her in a skimpy outfit with her body sliding round a pole. I made a mental note to Google temporary stripper poles just to see if she was serious.

A minute later she was knocking at the door. I opened it and was startled at the large basket being shoved in my face.

"Hi neighbour!"

"Hi?"

Her head appeared around the side and she was grinning madly. "Happy meeting anniversary!"

Taking the basket from her, I followed her into the kitchen and began to laugh. "It's not a year since I met you. I first met you in the hallway two weeks before you shoved a basket of fruit in my face. I was the mute, remember."

She drummed her fingers on the counter as I deposited the fruit basket and pulled the cellophane from it.

"No, that wasn't us actually meeting. You didn't speak so I didn't know your name. And if I didn't know your name, we didn't meet."

"Your logic astounds me." I lifted a bag of gummy bears from the basket and held them up. "You know I don't like these."

"Yeah, but I do." She took the bag from me and nodded towards the basket, "You do like Macallan though."

The basket was — from memory — almost identical to the first one she'd gifted me. This time, however, I recognised how much of its contents were her favourites. I fished out the small pot of blueberries and placed it in front of her.

"I'm suspecting the first time you came here you had less than honourable intentions."

"Excuse me?" She pressed her hand to her chest, feigning indignation.

"All of these, with the exception of the scotch, are your favourite things. Blueberries, Belgian chocolate, wine. I think you came over with all of this a year ago so you could continue to drop by and seduce me."

"Your logic is ridiculous," she said, picking up a blueberry and bouncing it off my forehead. "I was thumping walls with Charlie, I had no intention of seducing you."

"So you say." I lifted the chocolate from the basket and held it up. "And while this is your absolute favourite, I did notice you don't eat this chocolate in the correct way."

"There's a correct way to eat chocolate?"

I smiled and nodded. "There is."

"Then please enlighten me, Yoda."

"Well, it's simple really." I slowly peeled the wrapper from the chocolate holding back my laughter as she bit her lip and watched my hands. "It involves you stripping slowly while I sit on the sofa. Then, I take this chocolate, and eat it while you dance on a pole. I'm having it installed tomorrow."

Her eyes rolled skywards and she huffed an incredulous laugh. "You're an arse."

I laughed and cupped her jaw in my palms, gently stroking her cheeks with my thumbs. "Thank you. This is the sweetest gift, and I will be forever grateful you knocked on my door a year ago."

"I'm rather pleased I did too." She wrapped her arms around my neck. "And I'm thinking it's time we told everyone what we've decided."

"That we're having a stripper pole installed?"

She twisted the top button on my shirt. "No, the whole unmarried for life thing."

I feigned considering her request, tapping my lips with my fingertip. I'd have told everyone the day after our non-proposal if not for her request to keep it to ourselves for a while. And it seemed impossible that I had been head over heels for her for more than a year; the days with her had flown by in a blink. But, despite the feeling of time having passed so quickly, every moment with her — good and bad — had a clarity so vivid I could replay each one inside my head like it had just occurred. Each day with her brought a new adventure, and I was only too eager to officially continue the madness with her.

"If you're ready to share, then so am I."

"Good, because…" she reached into the basket, moving the wine bottle and retreating with a small, black box. "I got this for you."

I stared at the box, wondering exactly what was inside while at the same time knowing exactly what it held.

I held my hand up. "Give me a minute."

She frowned as I retreated down the hallway, my mind running a million miles an hour. She'd planned this meticulously, but so had I.

I was well aware of the first time she knocked on my door. How could I possibly forget? I was already pining for her, had already had so many fantastical dreams of her. The day she had knocked on my door had just sealed my fate.

I returned to the kitchen, holding out the small blue box I'd retrieved.

"What's that?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

I nodded at the black box on the counter. "I suspect it holds a similar item as that one does."

"Are we really doing this?"

"I believe we really are."

She took the box from me, waiting until I picked up the one on the counter.

"This isn't marriage," she insisted.

"It's not," I agreed. "It's just two people agreeing to be unmarried for the rest of their lives."

She nodded and held up the box. "How long have you had this?"

"About a week. What about you?"

She wrinkled her nose and looked embarrassed. "About a month."

"A month?"

I was stunned; it had only been three weeks since we'd made our crazy commitment.

"Yeah. I saw it and it was you."

"And this is why you asked me my thoughts on marriage?"

"It was part of it," she admitted. "I always knew, Lucius. From that first moment I saw you… I knew. You make me smile. You make me feel loved and wanted and that I don't have to be anything but myself. But, I also knew we were just meant to be this. Us. You and me. No flashy ceremony, or witnesses to the fact. Just me committing to you, and you committing to me. We don't need a piece of paper to say I love you. "

My words failed me and I was suddenly overcome with emotion. The year I had known her rolled through my mind. The first Thursday night she'd shown up with bags of food, talking about everything and nothing. Me sharing my life so easily with her. Watching her stretch on my living room floor. Our mutual stubbornness that led to our first kiss. My stubbornness that led to us sleeping together for the first time. Meeting friends. The first I love you. The ups and downs that had been the mad roller coaster my life had become. Every second with her simply had me wanting more.

"Alright?" she asked.

I nodded, swallowing thickly. "Can I open this?"

"Of course."

She was smiling at me, but I didn't miss the small flicker of apprehension in her eyes as I opened the box. But her apprehension was unnecessary. The ring was simple and unlike anything I had ever seen. Two thin circles of brushed silver sandwiched what I assumed was some kind of dark wood.

"It's ebony," she told me, lifting the ring and holding it between her thumb and forefinger. "I hope you like it."

"Where did you find this?"

"I saw something similar, but the wood was too red and that's just not you. I had this one custom made."

She slipped it onto my finger and for a brief moment my heart stopped. This was real. We were actually doing this. We were standing in my kitchen, exchanging rings, and it felt perfectly normal.

"Lucius, are you sure you like it?" she asked, as I flexed my fingers.

"Thank you." I held her face in my hands and kissed her softly. "It's perfect."

"Good," she answered with a huge smile. "What did you get for me?"

"Best you open it and find out."

Her tiny gasp was enough to calm my own apprehension. I'd spotted the antique ring after meeting with Draco the previous weekend. 1920's, white gold with an emerald cut diamond surrounded by an intricate filigree design. It suited her old soul perfectly.

Like she'd done for me, I slid it onto her finger and exhaled slowly as she traced the diamond with her fingertip.

"It's so pretty," she whispered, then looked up at me. "How did we both do this? I mean, we weren't going to do anything so formal."

"A verbal commitment is all well and good but I think we're both a bit old fashioned and need a small symbol to confirm it."

She nodded in agreement then took my hand in hers. "Do you love me, Lucius Malfoy?"

"I do," I answered with a grin. "Do you love me, Hermione Granger?"

"I do." She slid off the stool and wrapped her arms around me. "I now pronounce us unmarried — but committed — for the rest of our lives."

I laughed and kissed her, holding her tightly. "I think this is the best unwedding I've ever been to."

She giggled and agreed. "This is completely mad, right?"

"Absurdly mad," I told her, grabbing her arse and lifting her from the floor. "And do you know what this madness needs?"

"Tea?" She replied with a decidedly uninnocent smile as I carried her down the hallway.

I kicked the bedroom door closed and tossed her on the bed.

"No, my hellcat, ballerina. What this madness needs is a wall thumping celebration."