Here's another chapter, dear readers! Featuring our favourite Slytherin…. So many feelings…

It was incredibly ungraceful. But Draco didn't care. He was too wound up to stand still. The room Potter provided for him was fine, there was nothing he could complain about. The house itself was nothing like he remembered from one visit during his childhood. No more creaky stairs, no musty, damp smell and what mattered most to him, no bedbugs. He had been bitten by these nasty creatures back then, when he was had visited Grimmauld at the tender age of three and had his nap cut short by them.

Potter had done an excellent job with the renovation and Draco was glad he didn't have to deal with a memento from the crazy side of his family. In the new, crisp décor the only real reminder of the old days was Kreacher, who had left a silver blanket on his bed. He didn't mind the elf, with his exuberant ways of using as many titles a person had in one sentence. Even though Draco really wanted to send the elf to just spy a little to see what Hermione was doing, he didn't dare to. Potter would get mad and that was something Draco didn't quite want to deal with. But he did want to know what his fiancee was doing now. He had a right to know. But he was just one of three men who were to marry her.

At first, when his match had been announced, he was over the moon. He had tried to get her attention through the years when she resided in his properties, but to no avail. Perhaps, his approach had been too courteous, not direct enough. She did talk to him and smile at his jokes, but it didn't seem like it was enough to make her interested enough to make a move on him. People would probably wonder, why he, a so called sex god, was not just amping up his charm and making her swoon. With other women, he didn't need to do anything and there would be a swarm of ladies eager for his company. He had no illusion that the attention was only because he was so good looking, it was likely because they wanted to get their finely manicured claws into his vaults and get a bit of his dark wizard bad boy fame.

He'd never admit it publicly, but every time he bedded a new woman, he had hoped for some spark, something that would make him want her again and again. But it never happened. Sure, with some there was some tingling. Not of the kind of tingling that needed discreet treatment at a private healer, but rather the kind that made him feel eager for more and more.

That feeling of a kind of spark first overcame him when he brushed past Hermione in school, sometime during the fourth year. Back then in his stupidity he thought it was because she was a Muggleborn and his magic reacted badly to her. But later on, reading more about how magic could actually be key to good matches he understood that it was because his magic wanted to be close to hers.

After the wars, his social status was quite shit. There were some marriage offers to some foreign purebloods, but he didn't want a boring society witch. He wanted to explore what the bossy Gryffindor would think of him, and he had thought that his golden ticket had fallen into his hands when his father had offered her to stay at their holiday residences, for free.

But as soon as the Ministry had approved their offer to host her, Potter had turned up at the Manor. After meeting his father, Potter walked into his study, and in a very brief conversation told him that he should not even think for one moment that Hermione would be another one of his easy lays. The threat was peppered with explicit descriptions of what pain and suffering his most sensitive bits would suffer if Hermione was heartbroken in any way.

Draco believed what Potter said, the listing of borderline dark and dark magic spells that would be put upon him was impressive. Who could've guessed that Potter was ready to go that far to protect her?

So he tried to develop a plan. It was a hard to implement plan because he had to make it still look like he was not often at the holiday residences as otherwise she would be suspicious. And wooing a woman with only a few days to a week of time every two to three months was near impossible when he had no chance of using any of his standard chat ups.

First he tried to go the easy way and win her over with books that he had 'found' in the Manor's library. These books had not been there, in fact he had painstakingly searched through all sorts of magical book stores and sellers to find some unique books on magical creatures to impress her. At first, it seemed to work. She was so eager to read the rare texts that once she even hugged him. And that was…. So so much better than what other women had done to him. A simple rush-of-the-moment hug had made his skin tingle so pleasantly. He had already relaxed into her arms as she jumped away, mumbling apologies for invading his personal space. If only she had known how other women invaded his space. There were some who were not so subtle and just grabbed him by the crotch offering a good night. Some nights, when the whiskey tumbler had been refilled too many times, he did give in to such women and tried their charms, hoping that maybe this time, he would feel that feeling that books on magical relationships tried to describe.

But it was always just so unfulfilling. But this one hug was better than a dozen of such nights, it was not an exaggeration, and that was why he wanted to know what it'd be like if she did more to him than just give him an errant hug. What it would be like to kiss her, have her hands on his body…

He always had the threats looming in the back of his mind as he devised the second plan. If she was not impressed by his knowledge about books, she might be attracted to his body. Asking her whether she liked how he looked would've not worked. But perhaps showing off his body would get her attention.

So when inspiration struck him after reading a muggle sports magazine, he set out to buy the skimpiest possible swimming bottoms. None of the baggy trunks that were beloeved by men with a belly or bigger gut. Draco went for the tiny briefs worn by sportsmen who jumped from a high tower into a pool, or what muggles called, Olympic divers. And the things actually fit him well. He had a similarly lean but fit physique like these divers so the briefs looked like painted on.

But the tragedy was that Hermione did not spare any extra looks at him, no matter how advantageous his assets looked in the minimal swimwear. She didn't even comment on his choices at the pool. He tried several times hoping that perhaps maroon briefs would attract her Gryffindor heart more, but nothing. His self confidence took a significant hit. He examined himself in the mirror day after day, wondering whether there was some bad light in any of the pools, but three locations that had an indoor an outdoor pool couldn't all be making him look like a drowned rat.

He wanted a second opinion on his looks, so when he visited a magical resort near Magaluf, he was swarmed by witches who complimented him endlessly about his pale skin, fit body and sizeable goods covered by the swimwear. So it seemed that many women did find him attractive when he wore next to nothing to swim. Just not the one woman he actually wanted to compliment him, but all she said if they happened to be at the pool at the same time was just some small talk, and if it was outdoors, she told him to re-apply the sunscreen. Of course, she didn't offer to do it herself and he wasn't sure if asking her to help would be reported back to Potter.

The third plan was something he had seen in muggle movies. Characters falling in love after spending a day strolling through a picturesque town. So he invited her to come along with him to Rome, Bordeaux, Madrid and many other places where he had to drop off some paperwork or hold a short meeting. It would've been so perfect – he would have shown her his favorite places there, not just bookstores, but great attractions and restaurants. But she just declined, saying that she'd be interfering with his work and that one day she'd go alone.

Alone. That's how he felt when he didn't get her attention. Would it be like fireworks exploding within when he kissed her, like what he had read in memoirs of wizards who had chosen to find their match and not go for a contract marriage. His father didn't want him to have an arranged marriage anyways – their social status had taken a big hit and knowing the numbers of pureblood births there was no point in marrying someone who looked minimally suitable on paper.

The statistics in marriages between purebloods and muggleborns were rather fantastic. They could always conceive and have as many children as they wanted and they were overall happier as it was not an arranged marriage. Even his father had hinted, not too subtly, that he should pursue the cute muggleborn. After the first hint, Draco had thought his father was joking. But then he had asked why Lucius suggested it and his jaw nearly hit the floor when Draco was told that his teenage gripes about Hermione doing this and that were a good hint that she was a great potential match magically.

Just as he had been close to ignoring whatever threat Potter might implement and just as her out on a date the pixie thing happened.

Seeing her near death was the worst he had experienced after the war. The undercover elf security team Potter had set her up with had reacted as soon as possible but the attack of the venomous pixies was one of unseen before magnitude.

The private healers worked on her desperately and Potter rushed to be by her side. After a few hours she was not at mortal peril, but needed regular intravenous potion infusions to continue the healing process. The healers' offer to station a nurse by her bed to administer those was vehemently denounced by him and Potter. They split the vigil into 12 hour shifts, so that the potion would be given at precise four hour intervals without the risk that the person responsible fell asleep from exhaustion. It was a rather stressful week. Potter looked devastated. There was no one to blame. Most accounts claimed these pixies had gone extinct. The security elves had reacted quickly. Nobody could have predicted that she would get herself headfirst into their nest.

Just as she was getting better, Potter was called to attend issues with a security project for the American Ministry of Magic. As the healers claimed that it was quite sure that Hermione would get better, with a lot of bed rest and continuous use of potions, Potter left her care to him and the healers. During that time Draco a better understanding between him and Potter was formed. At least the Gryffindor didn't mention any more threats. They weren't best friends, but they both cared for Hermione.

The Ministry's matching seemed like all his wishes had come true. He finally got his witch and had scientific proof that his want to be with her was not just based on some unfulfilled teenage lust.

But the next line ''Draco Malfoy is matched to Hermione Granger as one of her three husbands. Co-husbands Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom have equal rights in this group marriage.''

From Magical History he knew that it was not uncommon for a witch to be matched to several wizards at once when such laws were enacted to improve population. So that was not so unheard of. But being a co-husband with Potter had made his blood run cold. If there had only been his name and Longbottom's on the parchment, there would have been a much easier way to make this situation work to benefit the Malfoy line. Longbottom was a nice guy, quiet, relatively easy to persuade. There would've been nothing to fret about. But adding Potter in the mix was a whole other problem.

Some people in pureblood circles, naturally, only in hushed private conversations fretted that a wizard as powerful as Potter was not to be trifled with. While no one would dream to accuse Potter of any tendencies like Riddle had, it was clear that only someone like the snake faced megalomaniac could be defeated by his match. Most people who finished Hogwarts were mediocre at magic, sure there were some exceptions, but if an organised group of grown up and experienced witches and wizards could not defeat Riddle buy a teenager who had not even graduated Hogwarts and had pretty much no special training could, then it was a rather good indicator that Potter was ways above everyone in magical ability.

The fact that the law outlined that in multiple marriages the involved were not permitted to hurt their partners was at least a little bit reassuring to Draco as the description of a rather dark and extremely painful ball crushing spell in Potter's threats was still on his mind. Legally, Potter couldn't violently dispose of any of his co-husbands.

Draco heard some hurried steps on the stairs and a knock on the bedroom door next to his. The old walls were quite thin and the shared bathroom that he and Longbottom shared was further away from the doors.

''Hey Nev, do you want to play a few rounds of Exploding Snap or something? Hermione said she wants to rest a little.''

''Yes, sure, why not. Is she taking it all well?'' Longbottom did sound a bit concerned, but Potter didn't add anything, so the two stomped down the stairs.

Draco tried to focus on the paperwork that was waiting for his attention. The piles of paper were still untouched after a good while because his mind wouldn't let go of the jealousy. Potter's hand had been on her knee at the restaurant. And she didn't seem to object to that. In fact, it seemed like she enjoyed his attention. And that made Draco wonder if she'd prefer Potter over her other husbands. Rumors were circulating about Hermione and Potter since the fourth year in Hogwarts. Potter never really denied them. Only two ex-boyfriends of Hermione were known – Viktor Krum and the useless Weasley. From these two, Krum was obviously the better choice, not a complete oaf.

The more he thought about what other men Hermione could like, the more Draco couldn't stand being alone in his room. As he had not heard any stomping on the stairs, the two guys were probably somewhere in the living room or study, so Hermione must be alone. If she was sleeping, then he'd just have a quick look at her and then go back to his return of investment reports, knowing that she is fine and not bawling her eyes out about the law. A quick tracking charm showed that she was not in Potter's bedroom, but somewhere downstairs. In a way, Draco was glad that she was not in the bedroom, that was one place that he particularly didn't wish to visit. He had seen Potter's and Longbottom's bedrooms, just like they had inspected his, all done to make sure that she would be equally comfortable everywhere.

The tracking charm led him to the also renovated and modernized library. He still dodged the shelves, even though there were no dark tomes trying to bite him, like there had been, in times gone by. He knew what he was looking for – a niche with a day bed and movable tables, a spot that had been preserved just for her, just in better furniture now.

And there she was, asleep in the day bed with a book in her hands. She didn't look upset, there were no tear streaks on her face. Draco grabbed a random book and pushed a chair to sit in front of her day bed. He wanted to be there when she woke, to get some moments to talk to her. According to the engagement contract she was supposed to spend equal time with each husband, but he wasn't yet sure whether she would so he had to find some moments. And why would he, as her fiance, be not allowed to sit next to her when she was napping?

Hermione couldn't rest in Harry's room. It was an absolutely beautiful room, with doors leading to a huge walk in closet that already contained all her clothes she had brought back and a massive bathroom that had a bath and shower and marble double sinks. Splashing cold water on her face didn't help as much as she hoped to make her feel better, so she decided to wait a few minutes and go down to the library. Being around books was calming. she'd find some exciting book to read and her mind would be taken away from questioning why she had just made out with Harry like a randy teenager. The library had also been renovated, it hadn't been the last time she was at Grimmauld for Christmas, to attend the obligatory gala at the Ministry. The books were now stored on modern metal shelves, with the musty and damaged volumes removed, and she remembered that Harry had said that all dark books he'd come across were stored in a safe vault away from the house.

A book about the Goblin revolts of 1745 seemed like a relatively easy read as she couldn't stomach any other books that would be related to wizarding culture or worse, relationships. Her old reading couch had also been replaced, by a spacious and comfortable looking daybed and a desk on wheels that could be moved around as needed. The daybed did not only look comfortable but ir really was and soon she fell asleep, still holding the book.

The first thing she saw when she woke was the budgie smuggler. Or rather, the wearer of extremely tight swimwear that she always had a hard time not to look at. Draco Malfoy had the right to wear whatever he wanted, especially at home. It was his pool and his house. And there was no reason for her to tell him anything about it, muggles didn't view it as an offensive piece of clothing, fat men with beer guts wore it on beaches worldwide, and Draco wore them better. And that was an understatement. There was just something about his thin, but lean physique. Some might say it was a runner's build, but she wasn't sure if he had ever done any running.

The tightness of the trunks showed off too well that he had rather quite a bit down there.

Of course, now he was wearing the same outfit as earlier in the day. But her mind wandered back to him at the pool. He had always been courteous, never rude all the years she lived at his houses.

''Hey. We didn't get to talk much today. And I just wanted to know if you're okay. I know all of this is a lot to take in.''

''It is,'' she mumbled, wondering what to say to him. He didn't look angry or upset even though he had good reason for it.

''Are you mad at us for telling you about this like we did? We all talked for a while and decided that it'd be best to do it somewhere neutral...''

''It's not about the location, Draco. The law takes away choice from us. I am sure there must be a witch who is completely heartbroken by this as you are being taken away from her, without your consent.''

''There's no one. I know, I have a… reputation if you will… that I am a ladies' man. I just never found someone who I wanted to be serious about. So I just… enjoyed attention.''

''And that's what you have a right to. Not this...why would they think I need to be married?'' Hermione huffed. ''And that I need three, not just one husband? Why is one not enough?''

''You're a special, unusual witch… powerful, smart, beautiful. I am the last of my line. So are the others. We're… not good enough without a partner like you. That's what the Unspeakables told me when I asked about the match.''

''Even in this rotten situation you shouldn't over-compliment me, Draco. I know the kind of witches I've seen you and Harry with. I am not even close to that kind of beauty. Maybe the Unspeakables think I am a nymphomaniac?''

''These witches you've seen. They're not like you. They'd not even break a manicured nail on my behalf. But you risked your life in the war, for everyone in Britain, muggle or wizard. What you did helped people like me, too. And before you start bemoaning your looks, beauty has so many faces.''

''Draco!'' she berated.

''I like it when you say my name like that,'' eh said and smiled. ''But we all just need to get along. And I want equal attention for you...''

''What do you mean by wanting my attention...we're talking, aren't we now...''

''It's a good start. Can I sit next to you perhaps?''

It was such a simple request. She had sat next to him before, when they were reading at a library. But this time it was different. They had gone from sorta-friends to engaged. What was she supposed to do with a fiance?

Still she sat up to free some space.

''Thank you. Can I tell you a secret, if you promise not to tell the others?'' he whispered the question.

''Depends on what the question is. If it's not something horrible, then I won't tell them, but if it is something alarming, then I have to.''

''Understandable. I will tell you anyways. I wish the match had been just us. I am bad at sharing, I am a spoiled brat.''

''Why do you say that you wanted to have me for yourself only? I mean why would you….''

''Why would I want you for myself you mean? You have been on my mind for years and years. Beating me in class, knowing everything… so brave, resourceful. I'm not like that. But I also wanted to know how it is...when you are passionate about someone. Not because of money or infamy. But because you thought I was just a sexy bastard.''

''I don't know what to say...'' she said and tried to slide a bit further away from him. He hadn't touched her. Or said anything inappropriate. But she could smell his expensive cologne, feel the warmth coming from his body and the irrational part of her brain was screaming that she should be telling him how sexy he looked at the pool. A nice, decent witch like she was would never say that. Commenting about a man's beautifully taut arse was just unthinkable.

''Is there anything that you like about me, even if it just looks-wise? Or something I need to improve? I know I am not perfect like Harry...'' Calling Potter by the first name was actually strenuous. The men had agreed to be as friendly as possible to each other for her benefit. She didn't need three arguing guys wrecking her life.

''Your skin...it's so pale. But I like it, you don't seem to ever tan much but your hair and eyes match your skin tone so well. Girls at Gryffindor used to joke that you can't be a pureblood but propbably half fay. ''

''That's where they're wrong. You can even ask for an ancestry test for me, but wizards typically don't mingle with these creatures like that. Did you know though that Goyle had a great-great-great troll grandfather? That's why that family isn't the wittiest at times. There's nothing wrong with having some creature ancestors. I hope you know that I have learned a lot and nor I, nor my father believe in blood supremacy now. At the dark times we used to, but we were wrong…. You know from our trial and probation how that came to be. But if anything, I think you overcame the biggest hurdles as a muggleborn. Even now some people think...not nice things when they're in private. ''

Hermione grabbed his hand. She had heard his trial, had read a bunch of the case files. His young life was quite a sad one if one knew. But now he had shown, through the years she had talked to him even if briefly at times that the real Draco was not caring about ancestry, he was even ashamed of some of his relatives, most notably his aunt.

''I believe that all people have an ability to change, if they want to. And during the years I was a guest at your homes I saw that you and your father have changed for the better. You can't believe how shocked I was when I found your father reading on the terrace, with a view of the Cote D'Azur, wearing a white polo shirt and jeans. It seems you've both learned a lot in the mandatory Muggle Studies you attended.''

''We still have to, every six months. When you choose to spend time with me, I will show you what I've learned. I want us to have a clean slate, a fresh start.''

''That won't be so easy...'' When she saw his worried expression, she smiled. ''I can't fully pretend that I don't know you. In fact, I lived at your houses for three years. So even if I was just a houseguest, I still know you. And the new Draco seems like a relatively pleasant guy.''

''Only relatively?'' he asked, seeing how her fingers were mindlessly stroking the palm of his hand. He was glad that he had kept on his jacket, if she could see his mark then perhaps she would feel differently.

''It seems you always have an awfully huge amount of paperwork to do but you are good at finding interesting books, so this might balance itself out somehow.''

''You know, now you won't be my guest anymore, after we're married. Theses will be your houses too. So whenever you want to stay there, we will. I want you to feel at home at every place I own already. And if you want to, we will buy any house you want. I just want you to be happy. It sounds cheesy, doesn't it? But the sudden marriage also gives me a purpose in life. I am not just wandering about, trying to find mindless entertainment. I will have a wife. And two other guys fighting for her attention.''

''I have a silly request, this is a serious conversation but there's something I always wanted to do to you.''

''Do it,'' he gasped, hoping that she would kiss him. But she didn't. Her hands went up and she run them through his hair.

''Just as silky as I'd imagined. I think I've never seen you with even one hair out of place. You even manage to look perfect when stepping out of the pool. ''

Hermione did not know what was happening to her. For three years she had not really paid much attention to men, but now in one day she was going crazy. What would happen if she kissed him? He did look almost angelic, so pale, gorgeous silver eyes…

he wouldn't protest a kiss, would he? He had said that she was brave and beautiful. And they were engaged. She put her hands on his shoulders. One breath. Another. Still, she felt like kissing him.

''What are you doing to me, Draco?'' she asked him.

''I didn't… haven't… if you want me to, I can go sit somewhere else or go away...''

''No, don't go. I don't want you to go. I don't know what I should do..''

''You can do whatever you want,'' he said and wished that she didn't change her mind suddenly and tell him to get lost.

''If I did what I wanted then I'd kiss you!'' she blurted out and regretted it immediately.

''I don't want to scare you away from me. But if you ever feel like kissing me or whatever you want to do, I'm game. Just please don't sock me in the face. That's all I ask.''

She caressed his cheek. Why would she want to hurt him? He had not done anything. It was all her mind that was driving her crazy with desire. He smelled so nice, she couldn't quite say what notes his cologne had but it suited him. It was not overpowering, but she wanted to bury her nose in the crook of his neck and so she did. Then she dared to move forward and let herself closer to him, just resting close. Another thought popped up in her mind that there will be plenty of time to see exactly what he had in his trunks. She didn't feel panicked about the fact that she would marry this man, with his complicated past and notoriety. He was part of her future whether she liked it or not, and right now she liked it very much.

She was so absorbed in the feeling of being close to Draco that she didn't hear the two pairs of footsteps coming closer.

''Hermione, it's time for dinner,'' Harry said. When she did look up at him she thought she saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes. Neville was just standing next to Harry, looking a little awkward and uncomfortable.

''Oh it's time for dinner already? Then we shouldn't leave the elves waiting, they'll worry otherwise.''

Thank you for reading and please leave a review so that I can find out what you think!