She wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels in as he backed her to the wall until the curve of her spine met it. "I don't think this is what you're meant to do on a meal break," Granger's back arched as his lips slid down the smooth path of her neck. "I'm not complaining, of course but we'll never hear the end of it if Harry comes looking for you early."

It reminded him that he really ought to update the wards on the flat sometime since these mid-day trysts had become a habit. Only in their flat. Never in his office, not that he would have minded. To see her spread across his desk served as a constant fantasy. Never while she was working, for rather obvious reasons. Still, Granger always arrived in their sitting room moments before he did.

Today, she'd already been unbuttoning her blouse and had let it fall to the floor as he watched her.

"I'd rather not discuss Potter while I fuck you." Draco slid into her, curling his fingers around her wrists before pinning them above her head. "Besides, he'll only make that mistake once."

She rocked against him, a wicked little smile curving her mouth, and threw her head back once she came.

Weeks passed like that. Stolen moments taken in the middle of the day. Staying up until the early morning hours while they laid in bed—sometimes taking pleasure from the other—but mostly, Granger sat with her back to the headboard while they talked.

They talked and talked and on one occasion, Draco said he'd be happy to do just that. There had been a remark about watching the shape of her lips, as pretty as they were, but it was impossible not to become enraptured by her. There was the way she talked about the uphill battle that involved Wolfsbane, and how it wasn't fair, but she would make it so.

Granger told him things he knew she'd never told anyone else. Christmas traditions she'd created, and followed with her family. The growing hobby that was cooking, and how house elves at the orphanage had taught her the perfect recipe while using magic.

They talked about the war, and with all of their wounds finally healing, it felt like a conversation they needed to have. Or perhaps they didn't need it, but she did.

Even Granger's pretty mouth wasn't enough to distract him from the sound of Voldemort's name when it filled the space between them. "I imagine it must have been so much worse for you—to have lived under the same roof with him—and for Harry—who lived with him inside his head—but sometimes I,"

Draco didn't interrupt her even though he was certain of what she was about to say.

"I have nightmares still," she settled with.

"I know," Draco said. Her eyes snapped to his, and he continued, "You talk in your sleep, sometimes. I've shared a bed with you many times, and I remember what it was like in our last year of Hogwarts. You've only ever made a sound when you're trapped in a nightmare."

Slowly, she blinked. "What do I sound like?"

He swallowed. "You sound like you trying not to make a sound at all." A chill unfurled on his spine, and he watched her gaze fall to the rumpled sheets. "You've not been having them often, have you?" Granger hadn't stirred in some time. In the last week however, that hadn't been the case. Twice now he'd woken up to find sweat formed across her brow, and her lips parted in a low whimper.

"It's fairly normal that I would have them on the anniversary of the final battle," Granger said softly. "Other than that, I haven't had them in a few years."

"Did you have them still after we broke up?"

She'd gone completely still, an answer all on it's own. "Draco, there's no use in asking questions that will only serve to hurt us now." But then, she sighed. "I started to have them again, yes but you can't blame yourself for that. It wasn't fair to you for me to use you—"

He'd been happy for her to use him, if only to chase away the terrible dreams that had haunted her.

"All that matters now is that we're here. I don't know what has brought all of this on, but I need a decent night's sleep." She sunk down beside him. "I think I'll call my healer tomorrow and see if a dose of Dreamless Sleep can be taken alongside my daily potion."

Nodding, Draco opened his arm as she pressed into his side.

They didn't talk about children. About the law. About Pansy when she learned that she was pregnant, other than congratulations.

But Draco felt how it was woven into their lives so delicately that made it clear—there was no way to fully avoid it. Granger's eyes would stray to toys, infant clothes, and cribs that were strategically placed in the windows as a baby boom struck the wizarding world. Even shops that had never carried such merchandise, suddenly did. His favorite Quidditch shop had placed a display of onesies at the front of the store, carrying one for each professional team.

Unknown to his wife, he'd purchased one for Puddlemere United. His hopes that this might become real for them—that her potions would work—weren't something he'd shared with his wife. It was already so difficult for her, but she hadn't shared those thoughts with him either. Yet, she saw it in most things. He'd seen her with children at the orphanage, watched her as she swallowed tightly when small children toddled through Diagon Alley while holding fast to their parents.

The culmination of his hopes of the life he'd come dangerously close to never having with her, and her own had resulted in the spontaneous purchase of a onesie. Draco turned it over while he sat in his chair, leaned back in his office. It was such a tiny piece of clothing, and his hands dwarfed it. He could hardly imagine holding a baby—a baby—in those hands.

His hands that had harmed others.

In fact, Draco couldn't believe that he deserved such a future, but he pushed the thought away. Knitted cotton was soft against his fingertips, and he carefully folded it before stowing it away inside the bottom right drawer of his desk.

"You'll be late," Granger moaned, her head tipping backward as her fingers dug into satin sheets. She arched her back then, legs trembling as he rested between them—his head between her thighs—and grinned. "We'll have plenty of time for—God!"

He swiped his tongue over her clit once and then twice while watching her scramble to prop herself up on her forearms. "I have plenty of time, darling. You don't think I would leave you like this, would you?" Draco's words were emphasized by the way his tongue slid between her lips, sliding against sensitive flesh while she rocked against him.

"I know—" Granger whimpered. She knotted her fingers in his hair. "I know that if I let you have a little bit, you'll take as much as you can get."

"Merlin forbid I want to start your birthday off right." He tightened his fingers around her thighs, and lowered his head once more.

She writhed against the pillows, reaching up to sink her fingers into her hair while pushing her hips against him. "That was your excuse at midnight—there, there, there—"

While pumping two fingers into her cunt, curling against her walls, he traced her clit with his tongue.

Granger cried out his name before digging her fingers into his hair, trapping strands between her fingers and tugging. Her thighs tightened where they sat over his shoulders, and her back arched, and a delicious keening sound fell away from her as his lips wrapped around that sensitive nub. Draco suckled gently, teeth grazing her, and she cried out louder than she had before.

Slowly, he continued to lick her swollen cunt, reaching up to lace his fingers through hers while never breaking eye contact. She whimpered under him, murmuring, "So sensitive" —and he pulled away— "No, no, don't stop."

Granger pulled him up, fisting slender fingers in his hair again, and peered up at him. "We're already late," she whispered, slanting her lips over his. "We might as well finish."

"Oh, there's not nearly enough time for to do all the things I want to do to you."

Lips curving up into a smirk, Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed herself against him. His cock slid between her slick folds, and she tilted her head to the side. "I want to feel you" —she dragged her nails down his chest, grazing his nipple— "inside of me right now. I want you to be thinking of me all day."

Draco groaned. "I guarantee I'll be thinking of little else."

She always gave a low, delicious gasp when he slid into her. "I love the way your cock feels," Hermione moaned, digging her fingers into his forearms. "Love the way it feels when you're stretching me—"

"You have such a filthy fucking mouth." And it was one of the things he loved about her.

Rolling her hips against his, and biting her lower lip as he slid into her fully, Granger whispered his name in his ear. "Harder, Draco. I want to feel you for the entire day."

He gripped the headboard, and slammed into her. She met each thrust with a perfect press of her hips, and she scratched his chest, his forearms—anywhere she could reach—as he fucked her. Draco heard himself as he growled her name more than once, and listened to her mewls of pleasure below him. "Come for me again, sweetheart." Draco pressed his thumb against her clit, slowly rubbing it.

She lifted her hips, chasing that sensation. "Draco—"

"I want to feel your cunt tighten around my cock, love. I want to feel how fucking good it feels when you come all over my cock."

Hermione gasped. She threw her head back.

She held onto his shoulders while his fingers quickened, as did his thrusts. "Yes, God—Draco, please fill me full—"

It always got him.

The sound of her begging to be filled full of come.

It had been no sooner that Hermione shrieked that she was coming that he put all of his weight against the headboard as he spilled inside of her.

Granger peeked up at him, and then to his hands. "You— Oh, my God."

Startled, Draco followed her eyes and smirked.

"You broke our headboard."

"You did say you wanted to feel me for the entire day," Draco purred. "I was just fulfilling the birthday girl's wishes. You can hardly be mad at me for that."

Granger looked as though she wanted to be angry, or to laugh but she couldn't decide which one. "It's a charmed set. We can't fix it ourselves. We'll have to take it back to the shop."

Draco pressed his lips to her brow. "I certainly didn't hear your complaining."

She titled her head up to his. "We're so late."

"Join me in the shower?" He whispered. "I promise to be on my best behavior. I promise that I'll only help you…" Fingers spread down her thighs, then her sides until they brushed against her breasts.

"If you're actually on your best behavior, I'll meet you here during your lunch hour."

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Granger led him into the shower, where ultimately she decided to sink to her knees in order to return the favor.

Draco couldn't say he complained.

They spend a few hours that evening with their friends while toasting to another year of Granger, to making the next year better than the last, and her eyes had cut to him when she said that it would be better than the last. After a few glasses of elf-wine, she'd whispered in his ear about whether or not he would be administering birthday spankings once they got home, and his cock had hardened in his trousers. Her fingers wandering under the table hadn't helped to relieve him either, only to work him up.

She leaned into Pansy while whispering about baby names. Potter brought Cho Chang, who fell into their small group rather nicely.

He'd paid attention to the entire night, truly, but he would have been lying if he said he hadn't been focused solely on the witch to his right while they sat in the leaky Cauldron.

But that calmness had evaporated once they landed in their fireplace, and Granger wrapped his tie around her knuckles while pulling him toward the bedroom. "I have a few things I'd like you to do with his," she murmured and tugged on his tie once more.

Draco forced himself to swallow, and said softly, "Wait a minute, Hermione."

She frowned, his tone landing lower than it had been meant to. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," he rushed. "Just sit down with me for a moment. I promise we'll spend the rest of the night doing whatever you like." As she sat, Granger sat a few inches away from him rather than while still touching him. There was an uneasiness to her, and he sighed. "I meant for it to be a surprise, and I thought it would be better to tell you in private."

She blinked.

"My father is lobbying money in order to overturn the marriage law." Draco spoke quietly, and watched her eyes widen. "While I believe your guilt for your involvement was misplaced, I know that guilt was valid. He spoke to me this morning, and told me that hopefully, by the anniversary next year, it will have been enough."

Again, Granger blinked. She shifted on the sofa, and her throat gave a small motion as she swallowed. "I thought that this, that we were going well?"

"What? Of course—" It struck him then what she must have thought. He hadn't considered that this would be a thought to go through her mind. Not even more a moment. "Granger, I don't want to overturn the law because I don't want you."

"It's just," she exhaled. "It's the wine. I may have had too much, and I jumped to a conclusion…"

Draco pulled her into him, and sat her in hip lap. "Do you want to know a secret?"

Her eyes were so much prettier up close, and he didn't look away from them as she nodded. "Is it a good secret?"

"I love you." He stroked the curve of her mouth with his thumb. "I love you so desperately that it pains me, sometimes. I want to remain married to you, no matter the outcome."

Her lips parted, and a shallow breath slipped away from her. Granger turned in his lap, straddling his waist and leaned for forehead to his. "I adore you," she murmured. "I believe that you were made for me to love, that I was made for you to love."

Draco watched her eyes begin to water, and tightened his arms around her waist.

"I believe that I've spent so much time pretending not to love you, that I cannot imagine wasting another moment. I love you." Granger framed his face in her hands, pressing the softest kiss he'd ever felt to his mouth, and he ached for her when she pulled away. "I loved you when I was eighteen. I love you now, and I'll love you tomorrow. And every day after. Every year. Every—"

He struggled to find the voice to thank her for loving him when he was in pieces, for loving him after he made himself whole again. But in true fashion, Hermione murmured that she already knew all of those things as they stumbled over their clothes as they were discarded, and made their way to their bedroom.

Draco Malfoy fancied himself as a smart man, and when Granger started to hide Honeydukes chocolate from him—and when she managed to get both Draco, Potter, and Weasley to pick them up for her—he hadn't said anything. One of two things would have happened immediately: she would have taken one of those muggle test sticks she kept, and it would have been positive. Or it would have been negative.

Considering how unlucky they had been so far, Draco had to lean toward the chance of it being negative. It already chipped away at her so much, and he couldn't stand to be the reason it happened again. He thought of the Puddlemere United onesie he'd stashed away often. More often than not, Granger would be late coming home from the orphanage. So late, in fact, that Draco had started going straight there after leaving the Ministry.

They read to the kids together, in different voices and all. He helped put them to bed, helped tuck them in, and checked under countless beds for monsters.

There was nothing like watching Granger with them, or the way her eyes lit up each time.

And there was nothing that stung quite as much as watching her step into the fireplace at the end of the night.

His hand found hers, and Draco threaded their fingers together. "We could stay the night, if you wanted." Between them, his voice felt a touch too loud.

Granger cast a look down the corridor, and shook her head slightly. "No," she sighed. "That would make it even worse when I did leave."

She wasn't unhappy.

Granger never cried, but the shift in her mood was undeniable. Each morning, she took the daily potion, and then she set into staying busy.

And then it was different, all over again.

"Draco," she poked him in the side. Her hair brushed over his bare chest when he cracked one eye open. When he looked, it was still dark outside. "It's early."

"I can see that." Draco looped an arm around her waist, and played with the spare strands that had come undone from his shirt that she wore. "What is it? Did a Patronus from—"

Hermione shook her head, hair slipping from the elastic in her hair. "No, nothing like that. I want to take another pregnancy test."

He sat up quickly, no longer tired. The sheets bunched around his waist, and Draco searched her face for any visible signs that she was upset. "Alright. A muggle one?"

"Yes. Are you going to ask why I keep taking muggle tests?"

"No." But he couldn't say he wasn't curious.

Hermione slipped out of bed, and waited for him to do the same before leading him into the loo. "The second I start asking a healer to perform the charm is the second they start looking at me with more pity than they already do. It's bad enough that they know how likely it is that I'm infertile, Draco. I can't stand for someone to look at me as though I'm a failure too."

He froze in the doorway, eyes focused on her back as she didn't stop at all. "Hermione, you're not a failure. Having children doesn't make you accomplished, and I know you know that."

She rummaged through the drawer. "Of course I do. It doesn't mean I like the way they look at me, though. Pansy—" Granger broke off. "She understands it better than anyone else can because she experienced the same thing. Molly never let off about children, and stranger—complete strangers—would ask her if she was pregnant in public. I hate every single part of it, and I intend to distance myself from it as much as possible."

"Strangers? Did that—"

His wife turned to face him, already tearing the white wrapper away. "Did they treat me like that? Yeah, they did, and Pansy threatened to turn them into frogs."

Draco hadn't known.

"Don't look like that. I didn't want to tell you, and I probably should have, but I didn't want to bring that into our space." He heard the message perfectly well. Granger glanced down at the test, and then back to him. "I constantly think that this will be the time it works out when I look at one of these, did you know that? Molly says that a witch just knows when she's pregnant, but that can't be true. I think that every time I buy one of these."

He wanted to pull her against his chest, but Draco didn't think that was what Granger wanted.

She leaned against the counter, his shirt coming to the stretch of skin above her thighs. "I'm devastated every time it's negative. I don't know why I keep doing this."

"Don't you?" For a moment, Draco feared he'd said the wrong thing, but if that were the case, he didn't really know what the right thing was either.

"Yeah." Granger nodded. "Because one of these times, I have to be right. I threw up this morning." There was a beat of silence. "I threw up on Lucius' shoes."

A harsh laugh lodged in his throat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Alright, get out." Granger shut the door behind him.

The wait for her to open the door again was short. Granger ripped it open and yanked him inside. "It's going to be negative. Merlin, Draco, I shouldn't have—" She dragged a hand down her face. "This was a mistake."

Draco slid down the wall, until he sat in the floor, and pulled her down with him. His legs bracketed hers, and he massaged her shoulders beneath a layer of curls. "I love you," he murmured, and wrapped both arms around her chest.

Granger's hands came up, and her fingers curled around his forearms while she pressed her chin against his arm. "Thank you for loving me."

"I think that may be my line, sweetheart."

She didn't laugh. "I want it to be positive."

His head fell forward, and Draco nuzzled her cheek. "I do too."

Her grip on him didn't lessen, and three minutes later, she asked him to look. "I can't." Granger kept her eyes on their feet.

Draco reached for it, and said, "Remind me what each sign means again?" Honestly, he couldn't imagine anything worse than telling her the wrong thing because he didn't understand muggle technology.

"A plus sign means positive." She didn't give him the chance to speak before continuing. "It's fine, I know it's negative. Just let me off the floor."

"You're sure a plus sign means positive?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I think I've seen enough negatives to know."

Right, that had been a shitty thing to say. Draco drew a breath, staring at the test still. He wondered if she could feel his heart so close to beating out of his chest. "Granger, it's not negative." He heard himself whisper it, felt her stiffen, and he watched her slowly turn, watched her tilt her head up.

Her lips parted. "Really?" It was the softness of her voice that cut across his chest, the disbelief that hung in a single word. "Draco, are you sure? I thought that once too, but it was—"

Draco tightened one arm around her waist, and held it in front of her face. "Yeah, sweetheart. I'm sure."

Her fingers trembled as she reached up to grab it.

He kept holding on to the other side, and right in the middle, there was a definitive plus sign.

"Sweet fucking Merlin, I'm going to be a father." The giggle that earned him was the best thing he'd heard in days. "Do you think I'll be a good one?"

Granger slumped against him. "The best."

"Oh, that's certainly reserved for you." He laughed, and pressed his lips to her temple.