Thursday morning
Draco had barely sat on his chair inside his office at the Malfoy Enterprises building when his assistant entered the room with a stack of papers for him to read and a list of meetings he would have day.
He lowered his head to the documents and let his work responsibilities help him forget the mess his private life was.
He had been writing to Hermione daily since Tuesday – twice on Wednesday. But not once had she replied.
He knew she was getting the letters and reading them for she had asked him about the Headmaster's voting the previous afternoon. But the lack of a written response was worrying him.
The sound of the door being opened again interrupted his musings, and he looked up to see who was walking in, unannounced.
"Good morning, son."
"Morning, mother."
Narcissa walked to him and kissed his forehead before going to sit on the sofa in the sitting area of the office to the left of Draco's desk, she had had that area redesigned recently, hiring a designer to make it exactly as she wanted. It was the perfect space to talk to business partners, and the sofa was comfy enough for a nap.
"What brings you here this morning?" Draco asked, still looking at his papers.
"I'm on my way to buy my grandkids some gifts and then I'll have lunch with Hermione and check on some last details for the Ball."
He smiled, "More gifts? What are you getting them now?"
"Some toys." she replied with a similar smile. "But what I came here to ask you, love, is how are things between you and Hermione? How is your plan to earn her forgiveness going?"
Draco grimaced and sighed, dropping his quill on his desk.
"You do have a plan, don't you?" Narcissa insisted.
"I have already apologized, mother, more than once." he sighed. "I've made love to her, apologized again... I've sent her letters that she doesn't reply to; I told her she's the only woman I want by my side and that I won't give up on her and our kids... and yet she refuses to forgive me and end that sham with Weasley."
"You have sixteen days, Draco!" Said Narcissa with urgency in her tone. "She'll marry Weasley on the nineteenth!"
"I know!" he replied, his heart pounding at the thought of his beloved marrying someone else. "Have you made it your mission to make sure I'm constantly on the verge of an anxiety attack, mother?"
"No. My mission is to make sure my grandkids don't grow up calling Molly Weasley 'grandma'!" she nearly shouted, standing up and storming out of the office.
Draco held his head on his hands, regret filling every fibre of his being; he didn't know what else to do to make Hermione see he loved her and had never been ashamed of her.
"Mr. Malfoy, you're needed on the fifth floor, sir." he heard the voice of his assistant and raised his head to look at her at the door.
"Are you ok, sir?" the sweet woman asked, concerned. "Do you need anything?"
"No, Mrs. Garret." Draco said, standing up and going to the door, looking at the woman that he knew since he was five for she had been his father's assistant. She was a nice woman who always had candy and colouring books in her desk for him when he was a kid. "Unless you have advice to give me regarding gaining the attentions of a proud and brilliant witch I've upset."
The woman smiled softly, "Attitudes, Mr. Malfoy. Make it clear she's it for you with your attitudes." She tilted her head. "Considering this witch is it for you."
"She definitely is, Mrs. Garret." he smiled at her.
"So, she's worth fighting for, dear."
"That she is." Draco nodded, "Thank you, Anna." He said before entering the elevator and pressing the fifth-floor button.
At the Ministry
Hermione sat on her chair in her office, remembering that morning's delicious breakfast that Eli had taken for her and Draco's latest I'm sorry letter.
I'll miss the letters if I marry him. She thought, caressing her lower belly absentmindedly. Although I'll be waking up in his arms every morning and that is better than any letter.
She picked up that morning's letter from her bag and reread it.
Good morning, my love
I have a long and busy day ahead of me today, as usual. Company appointments in the morning and afternoon and a Wizengamot event at night, at the Parkinsons' manor.
I'd love for you to come with me tonight. I'm sure you'd put each and every one of those retrogrades old snobs in their places with your brilliant mind.
I miss you.
Hope you have a great day.
I love you.
Draco.
Hermione touched his elegant handwriting with tenderness, her heart beating a little faster as she thought about accompanying him to an official Wizengamot dinner.
She'd love to go, but she knew it wouldn't be proper, since he was a Lord now and they weren't in a relationship, officially.
Hermione frowned as she slowly realized that, being that he was a Lord, that would make her... Lady Malfoy. I'll be a Lady, if I marry him.
And that, she was certain, was a title with its own list of responsibilities.
She'd have to find a way to ask Narcissa about it.
A little before noon, Hermione was finishing reviewing a new bill that would be voted next week, regarding Merpeople's rights, when her door was opened.
"Narcissa!" She greeted, standing up to hug her.
"Hello, my dear." The blond witch smiled. "How are you and those babies?"
"We're great; being able to eat without nausea has been a blessing!"
"That's excellent. May I?" Narcissa asked, wanting to touch her belly and send her love to the babies.
"Sure." Hermione said with a small hesitation; she knew Draco had talked to his parents, but she had no idea if he had just told them about her or about him being the babies' true father as well.
Narcissa noticed the young witch's frown, "I've known about the babies being Draco's since before you and he broke up, dear."
Hermione was surprised to hear that. "Oh, do you mind if I ask how?"
"The family Tapestry." Narcissa smiled reassuringly, walking to the sofa. "It showed me that Draco was going to be a father. But it didn't show you or that it was twins then. Now it does."
Hermione smiled knowingly, "The Tapestry was prejudiced?"
"Yes. But not anymore." Narcissa said, putting a bag on the coffee table. "I brought the babies some toys. And I made a reservation for us at one of my favourite French restaurants, if that's alright with you. You haven't had lunch yet, have you?"
"No, I haven't. That's great, I love French cuisine. Can we floo there though? Apparating has started to make me weak."
"Of course, dear."
At the Sarriette Restaurant
"Did you know Theodore is resisting marrying your friend Potter?" asked Narcissa, sipping her white wine.
"Yes." Hermione nodded, "Harry has proposed to him a couple of times already, but Theo always refuses, he says he doesn't think it's right for Harry Potter to marry the son of a death eater."
Narcissa seemed concerned. "And what does Harry think?"
"He thinks Theo is being an idiot. And I agree." Said Hermione. "They are amazing together."
"Just like you and Draco." Said Narcissa with warmth in her eyes. "I can't imagine a more perfect pair."
Hermione blushed.
And the blond witch continued: "Draco is not an easy person, picky and stubborn since birth, and Lucius' pampering him didn't help at all."
"Just your husband pampered him?"
Narcissa looked at her with a slightly guilty smile, "Well, he is my only son, Hermione. You can't blame me. And he was such a cute baby; honestly, he had everyone eating at the palm of his little hand since birth."
"I get it, Narcissa." she took a bite of her food, admitting: "When I met him at eleven, I must say I had a crush on him – as did absolutely all girls in Hogwarts. I can only imagine how cute he was as a baby."
Narcissa sighed, "All blond locks and grey eyes, rosy cheeks. A perfect angel."
Hermione snorted. "In looks only, you mean."
"Of course! He was a menace, the prettiest menace in the world, but still... running around, ordering the elves to make him desserts for every meal instead of real food. Poor Eli, that's a resilient elf. But what I mean is: you're just the kind of woman Draco needs – one that won't accept his stupidities just because of his good-looks and deep-pockets."
Hermione laughed, "No, I truly won't." She took a sip of her juice before continuing: "Narcissa, I have a question for you; it's rather personal."
"Ask away, dear." she said, finishing her meal and vanishing her plate.
"What is it that you do? I mean, most people think because you don't have a job you don't do anything. But I have come to realize that that might not be true."
Narcissa smirked, her blue eyes sparkling with knowledge. "And why do you ask, Hermione?"
"I just- I'm curious." she stammered.
"Sure." Narcissa nodded, clearly not believing it was just curiosity. "Well, as you know, the Malfoy family owns many historic properties around Europe that are not only used by the family, but also teach muggles about the unfairness of the witch trials. It is my responsibility to ensure the proper functioning of those properties, keeping them in perfect condition so that the future generations know not to repeat those atrocities."
"Yes, I've visited one of those. The Château du Prince Royal."
"I know." she smiled slyly, sipping her wine.
Hermione was surprised by that. "You do?"
"I have only one son, Hermione, it's also my duty to know where he is and with whom. The elves at the castle are loyal to me and informed me of his presence there the moment you two arrived; and, of course, they told me he had a woman with him. That was when I knew for sure it was you who he was dating."
Hermione nodded, biting her bottom lip before talking about something that was on her mind: "Draco invited me for a Wizengamot dinner tonight."
"He did? And are you going?"
"No. I don't think I should accompany him in an official event when we're not... official."
Narcissa smiled. "You're right. It wouldn't be proper." She paused, trying to understand what was going on between the witch and her son. "You know, I talked to him this morning and he's heartbroken, thinking you haven't forgiven him. Have you?"
"Are you asking in his behalf?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"No." Narcissa laughed. "If you want to make him squirm and grovel for another week, I'm all for it, darling. Draco did you wrong when he didn't present you to us as his choice of wife."
"Well," Hermione looked at the food still on her plate. "I will accept his apology, soon. Just not today."
"I'm glad to hear that." Narcissa let out a relieved breath. "But what about your wedding to the Weasley?"
"Has already been cancelled."
The blond woman looked at her in surprise, "And you haven't told Draco." she shook her head with a smile on her lips. "You sure are a strange Gryffindor, Hermione."
The curly haired witch shrugged. "When I was sorted, the Hat said I'd do well in Slytherin – that they were losing a great student for their own prejudiced views. Then it considered putting me on Ravenclaw until it finally decided for Gryffindor."
"So Slytherin was its first choice. I'm not surprised." Narcissa finished her wine and touched a hand to Hermione's: "I know of your plans to become Minister of Magic; don't worry about Lady duties, dear. I enjoy doing them, they keep me busy. Focus on growing those precious babies, staying healthy and making my son grovel."
Hermione laughed. "Got it."
After returning to Hermione's office and seeing that everything was in order for the Ball on Saturday, Narcissa left. But Hermione wasn't alone for long, minutes later she was surprised by another visitor.
"Hermione you're just the hero I need! You must save me!"
"Hi, Pansy. What is it? A broken nail?" Hermione laughed.
"No, worse: there will be a dinner at my parents' place tonight." She sat onto the chair in front of Hermione's desk.
"I know."
Pansy looked at her, stopping her dramatics, not expecting that, "You know? How?"
"Draco invited me."
"Wait." Pansy tilted her head at her. "So you're going?"
"No. I'm not going."
Pansy eyed her in silence for a moment, before continuing: "So you must save me!"
"And how can I save you, Miss Parkinson?"
"Invite Ginny and me to have dinner at your place tonight."
"That's all? Alright." she shrugged. "You'll let Ginny know?"
"Yes! And Theo and Harry too."
"Sure." Hermione agreed, "I'll invite Blaise as well." having them all together would be a good distraction.
Later that night, at Hermione's home
All five friends had already arrived and were talking and laughing in the backyard; Blaise was grilling some steaks the muggle-way on the camping grill Hermione kept from her parents' home.
Meanwhile, Hermione was inside the house, setting the table.
She looked at the chair on the right end of the table and smiled softly – that had been Draco's chair for two years.
He had sat there the first night they had dinner in that house and since then that had become his chair, at the head of the table, like a king in his castle – the Lord of the Manor.
Hermione laughed; her house was no Manor. A four-bedroom, two-bath, open-concept kitchen and living spaces cottage-like house in Hogsmeade certainly was nothing near the luxury that Draco was used to.
And no house-elves. – although Hermione suspected Draco ordered Eli to clean and organize the house when they weren't home; for she never felt the need to clean, the place was always pristine.
"What are you doing, Mi?" Asked Ginny walking into the house, jolting her from her thoughts.
"Setting the table, Blaise said the steaks will be ready soon."
Ginny leaned on the table, "How are you and the babies? I got back from the game against Germany last night and Pans said the ferret knows the truth now."
"Yes, he does. We are fine, they're growing healthily and my morning sickness is gone."
"And Charlie said you cancelled the wedding." Ginny continued with a frown, "Why?"
"What?" asked Blaise, entering the house with a plate of steaks in his hands and interrupting them. "You're not marrying Charlie Weasley?"
"No." Hermione shook her head, sighing. "I realized gossip will follow me and the babies either way. So-"
"Can you give us a minute, Ginny?" Blaise asked suddenly, setting the plate of steaks on the table.
Ginny's frown deepened, she glanced at Hermione but her friend just shrugged, letting her know she had no idea what that was about; so, the redheaded nodded and left.
"What is it Blaise?" Hermione asked, confused by his seriousness.
"I just- I want to tell you that my offer still stands. Now more than ever." He approached her. "You're an amazing woman, Hermione. It would be my pleasure and honour to call you my wife."
She blinked at him in surprise. "Oh, Blaise. Thank you, but... things with Draco have improved in the past couple of days and..."
"No, Hermione. He's no man for you." Blaise shook his head, touching her face tenderly.
"Blaise, I don't-" and she realized what he was going to do a second before he did it: he kissed her, tenderly, caressing her lips with his in a sweet and sensual kiss.
It wasn't a bad kiss, but Hermione took a step away from him – only she did it a second too late.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" Theo shouted from the backyard door.
Hermione ignored him and looked at Blaise. "I'm sorry, but I don't... I can't accept your offer."
Blaise sighed dejectedly.
"I hope," Hermione added, taking one of his hands in hers. "I hope this doesn't mean you would like to end our friendship."
"No, Hermione." Blaise shook his head. "I'm one of Scorp's godfathers and I didn't accept that position lightly." He sighed. "If Draco fucks up again, know that I'll be around."
She smiled and nodded.
"So..." said Harry. "You and Draco may be getting back together soon, Mione?"
"Yes." she said, putting the salad plate on the table.
And Theo exclaimed in relief: "Thank Salazar! I can't stand him moping about how much he regrets fucking things up with you any longer."
"Not to mention the unsolicited details on their sex life." whispered Harry with a grimace.
"What?" Hermione gasped at that. "What details on whose sex life?"
Theo winked at her. "You're a freak, Granger. And now we all know it."
She kept on staring at them, blushing.
"Draco tends to talk to himself while sulking." Explained Blaise.
"And, that gets graphic." Added Pansy with her arms around Ginny.
"As fun as that part is," added Theo. "He's insufferable to live with."
"Well," Hermione said, "You must not tell him anything about that yet."
"Why not?" Theo whined.
"Hermione is making him suffer for a while." Said Pansy. "Deservedly so."
"No! You're making me suffer!" Theo complained.
"That's not my problem." Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's your friend-"
"Oooh, no, Granger." interrupted Theo. "Mr. Lord of Sulking is your fucking problem!"
"What?" Hermione asked, surprised.
"You sat with him in Potions!" continued Theo. "You could've sat with Pansy, but nooo, you had a crush on his Lordship and chose to sit with him and then proceeded to make his pathetic ass fall for you! You did this!"
Hermione folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. "I don't care what you think, Theodore, I want you to keep the cancelling of Charlie's and my wedding a secret, at least until Monday."
"Fine. Til Monday." accepted Theo. "I swear, Granger, I'll free every single fucking elf I find if you marry that idiot and get him out of the flat!"
Hermione laughed, but saw that Blaise wasn't even smiling, he just approached her again and laid a kiss on her forehead.
"I'll be around, love."
"Thank you, Blaise." She replied as they all sat around the table.
"Sit here, Donovan." Said Theo pulling the chair at the head of the table for Blaise.
Hermione laughed, "I think you mean Don Juan, Theo."
"Yeah yeah, whatever. Let me have my fun, Granger. When I get to the flat and tell his Lordship that Blaise not only kissed you but sat on his chair at dinner- he'll have a fit."
Harry just shook his head, looking at his boyfriend and sighing; life was never boring with Theodore Nott.
"Stop giving me that look, Harry." Theo rolled his eyes as he sat beside him.
Harry let out an annoyed sigh, "You know what I want, love."
"For goodness' sake, Theodore!" Exclaimed Pansy. "Just put the man out of his misery and marry him!"
Theo snorted: "And be subjected to the media? No thanks."
Hermione frowned, finding a striking similarity between Theo and Harry's situation and her own. "I get what you're saying, Theo." she said thoughtfully. "But I also know how Harry's feeling." she tilted her head, looking at them. "Honestly... just get married already."
"We'll all support you." Said Ginny.
Theo looked around the table and everyone was nodding; Harry was looking at him with so much hope and love in his green eyes.
"Fine!" Theo exclaimed, feeling his heart pounding as he spoke: "I will marry our saviour."
"YES!" Harry shouted, jumping from his chair and running to the sofa, picking up something inside his coat and returning to the table with a small jewellery box. He kneeled beside Theo's chair and opened the box, gazing up at his boyfriend with a huge smile.
"Theodore Nott. I never imagined having a life with you, but now can't imagine living without you. Will you marry me?"
"Yes, Harry. I will."
"FINALLY!" Harry shouted, putting the ring on Theo's finger and giving him another to put on him. "I'm make an announcement in the Prophet tomorrow!" he kissed his lips before sitting back on his chair, raising his glass. "A toast!"
Everyone raised their glasses.
"To Mister and Mister Potter!" said Blaise.
And they all cheered and sipped from their glasses.
"Well," said Theo. "At least I'm marrying into the good side. In Granger's case, she's doing the opposite. A muggleborn war-hero marrying into one of the most bigoted pureblood families in the country." he tsked.
"You should try to convince Draco to change his surname instead, Mione." Said Harry, entwining his hand with Theo's.
Hermione and Pansy gasped and looked at him as if he was crazy.
"I'd never do that!" Hermione exclaimed, incensed. "The Malfoy family is not only Lucius and his father's bigotry! It's a family of generations of good witches and wizards who helped many and were prosecuted for-"
"Wow! Look at her going!" exclaimed Theo teasingly. "Geez, Granger, aren't you already proud of that name."
She blushed and threw a balled-up napkin at him, making everyone laugh.
After her friends left, Hermione lay in bed and thought about all that had happened during dinner, from Blaise's kiss to Theo's teasing.
She hugged the pillow that smelled like Draco and sighed, missing him; she knew why he wouldn't write to her that night, but she still wished he could; she had gotten used to his letters.
Maybe I should write to him.
