"And then McLaggen walks in, of all people, you can imagine how that went—you would think he would've grown up some since Hogwarts but the guy still makes Percy look humble."
The whole group burst out laughing, and Hermione drained the bottom of her glass before commenting, "When you're pompous enough for Hannah Abbott to say something unkind about you, you know there's a problem."
"Not Hannah Abbott much longer, though, is she?" Pansy sent a grin at the blonde. "Ron won't shut up about the wedding, honestly."
She and Ron had been partners since they'd graduated Auror training the same cycle three years previously, and while it was initially…rocky…they'd ended up becoming pretty close, in no small part due to their mutual friends.
"You were the same before our wedding—this is your penance," Ginny teased her, earning a scowl from her wife.
"It's true," Hermione confirms. "I remember when—" she was interrupted by the chime of her phone, and gave an apologetic smile before accepting the call.
"Oi, lover boy, you know better than to call during girls night," Ginny chirped before she could get a word in.
"Hi, baby, everything okay?" she asked, attempting to contain her laughter.
"Everything is amazing. I have the best life—I can't believe I'm married to you, honest, baby, you're so amazing and beautiful and brilliant and I just really love you and I had to call to tell you."
Hermione snorted. "I love you too, Draco. How much have you had to drink?"
"A few. Well, then the Weasel bet he could handle more liquor than me, so a few after the first few, and then a few with Blaise, so a few and a few and a few." A pause, so she could only hear the noise of the bar in the background, before her husband sighed dreamily. "Hermione?"
"Yes, Draco?"
"I can't wait until you can't drink."
Her eyebrows shot up, and it took a moment before she had the wherewithal to respond. "Ex-excuse me? Did you just say what I think you said?"
"I gotta start from the beginning—so, you know my mates' group chat, the one with Theo and Blaise and Potter and Marcus and the Weasel? Well when we were planning our night, Potter said he couldn't come, and obviously that's rubbish, so when we got here Theo and I called him to yell at him to get his arse over here, but he said no, because Luna's pregnant with their second and they have a deal that he doesn't drink when she's pregnant—and she doesn't either, obviously, because they're not ingrates—and so then Theo said about how much Potter loves her, and so I thought about how much I love you too and I can't wait until you can't drink too because we're having our own tiny ones, and we'll have the smartest prettiest kids because you're the smartest prettiest person that's ever lived and I'm a close second. We're gonna have the best kids ever, Granger, oh my god, they're gonna dominate Hogwarts."
Hermione couldn't help the smile that spread across her face, the leap of her heart at his babbling. "They'll be pretty perfect, won't they?"
"Yeah. Just like you." Another happy sigh from his end. "Hermione?"
"Yes, Draco?"
"I really can't wait till you can't drink. I can't wait to meet them."
"Me either, babe. I'm gonna get back to the girls, you tell Blaise if he doesn't get some water in you, I'll hex him, okay?"
"Okay, baby. I'll tell him I need allllll the water or my super hot super scary wife is gonna blast him to smithereens. And Hermione?"
She groaned, but responded patiently. "Yes, Malfoy?"
"I love you. Like, so much. Like—I wish I could marry you again. I can't believe you married me."
"I love you too, you drunken fool, now go back to the boys, okay? I'll see you at home."
"Are you sure I can't just come to girls' night? I missssssss you. I'll braid hair and talk about monthlies and whatever else is required."
"I think your mates would be awful put out if you left them so soon but I appreciate your dedication. I'll see you soon, Draco, don't worry."
"Okay, baby. I love you. I can't wait to see you. Thanks for marrying me."
He hung up without further ado, and she turned back to where her friends sat with knowing smirks.
"How toasted are they?" Ginny inquired deviously.
"Very. I don't think I've heard him that drunk since Theo and Daphne's wedding."
Pansy and Hannah both cringed, remembering the occasion. "That one was…well, I was rather surprised his nose bled actual blood and not tequila that night."
"Oh, merlin," Hannah said, scrunching her nose. "You all need to look at this—Ron's just sent a photo of them."
The women crowded around her phone immediately, gales of laughter erupting from them at the sight: Marcus and Ron's cheeks pressed together with wide smiles and drink stains on their shirts, Theo looking painfully sober and waving his keys for the camera, Blaise attempting to tug Draco into the picture while the latter pressed his lips to his phone, where the image of Hermione that served as his background shone against his pallid face.
/
\
/
"You're home!" The second she stepped through the door Draco launched himself at her.
"Good merlin, Draco, were you sitting on the floor?"
His lip stuck out in a pout, and he pulled back to nod before returning his cheek to rest on the top of her head. "I couldn't wait to see you. I wanted to be with you the second you arrived."
"Well, you certainly succeeded," she chuckled, before detangling one arm from him to drop her purse on the counter. "What on earth were you boys drinking?"
"Firewhiskeyyyyyy" he purred. "What do you say we both have another glass before we head to bed—or the couch—or the kitchen table, I know that's your favorite."
Hermione flushed, batting him away from her neck to lock the door behind her. "I think—" but before she could even get out the words to let him down easily, she yawned widely, rubbing at her eyes.
Draco straightened instantly, albeit clumsily. "Nevermind, you're exhausted! We need to get you to bed, love—don't even think of attempting to seduce me, you need some rest," he declared, before promptly tripping over the rug.
"Is that right?" She watched him clamber back to his feet with a happy, tired smile on her face. This is the life, she thought to herself.
They'd been married three years now—just two years out of Hogwarts, not announcing they were together to even their closest friends until they were engaged and had decided for themselves what their future was going to be. The two most career oriented people they knew getting married so young—everyone was shocked, but the two of them just…knew. Knew it was right, for them.
Three years, and sometimes she still couldn't believe this was her life—that she was lucky enough to have this man she loved more than anything, that he wanted a future with her too, that they were so happy—so in love, even in the midst of a screaming match debating apothecary ethics and who put too much dish soap in the washer.
And it would only get better from here.
"Come on, baby, let's go to bed," he said again, wrapping an arm around her waist as though to help her to their room, despite the fact that he was leaning some of his weight on her.
Twenty minutes later, as they lay in bed, he mumbled, "I hope I die before you."
"Bloody hell, Draco, you really need to work on your pillowtalk."
"First of all, you know my pillowtalk is nothing less than stellar. But I mean it—I mean, duh, I don't want to leave without you and all that but also—think about it: I die, and you inherit the whole Malfoy name, manor, Gringotts vault…all my racist relatives would be so pissed. Wouldn't it be grand?"
"There are few things that would amuse me more," she admitted, reaching a hand to stroke his hair softly. "Although wouldn't our children inherit all of that?"
"Technically it always goes to the wife first; because historically she wouldn't have had any other source of income or anything, especially if the kids were still young—but also, if I die before we have kids, it would go to you even if it weren't tradition."
She stayed silent, biting her lip, partially because thinking about Draco dying was excruciating, and partially because even if Draco died tomorrow, it wouldn't be before—
Now is not the time, she thought to herself, pulling herself closer to his chest and falling asleep to the familiar cadence of his breathing.
/
\
/
She woke to the smell of coffee, pulling the comforter around her shoulders and padding into the kitchen, where Draco sat looking haggard. He looked up and gave a half hearted smile as she sat beside him, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Morning, love. You feeling okay? You slept in awfully late."
His voice was laced with concern, and she felt a pang of guilt as she reassured him. "No, I'm fine, just a few too many hours working this week, is all. How are you feeling, though? By the time you got home your pores were leaking firewhisky," she teased.
"My head is killing me, " he confessed. "Remind me next time that Theo is a bad influence."
She snorted. "I seriously doubt your DD was to blame. Do you remember when you called me?"
"No," he grimaced. "I do remember proposing we drink more when you got home, though—thank you for stopping me."
"Well, after hearing you go on about your super hot super scary wife annihilating Blaise I thought you'd had enough."
He nodded in affirmation before crooking an eyebrow at her. "Come to think of it, you were terribly coherent when you got home. Hannah forget to buy red wine and you couldn't bear to get more than tipsy on white?"
She elbowed him but didn't meet his eye. "No, I didn't drink, actually," she said nervously.
"What?" he demanded, flabbergasted. "Is the world coming to an end? I've never seen you turn down wine in your life."
"Yes, well…merlin, I have no idea how to do this properly, Draco. It's quite funny, actually, because just last night you were going on about how you couldn't wait till I couldn't drink, when all the while—"
"I said what?"
"Yes, well—you said it because of Luna, actually. Because Harry couldn't come out because he doesn't drink while she can't. Because she's pregnant." She makes eye contact with Draco carefully. "I didn't drink last night because I can't."
"Because you're pregnant?" he asks, so softly, as though the moment is so delicate that merely speaking the question too loud will make it untrue."
"Yeah." She gives him a watery smile. "Three months."
"Bloody hell," he whispered, staring at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. "We get to meet them soon."
/
\
/
Twelve years later, an aged Minerva McGonagall groaned when into the Great Hall stepped both a Potter and a Granger-Malfoy, a mischevious pair-Lily Molly, after a mother whose blood was the price of her son's life, and a mother whose blood ran not in his veins but cared for him in every way that counted; and Regulus Harry, after a man strong enough to do the right thing though few would ever know, and a man who had faced one hardship after another but never put anything but love into the world despite the lack of it he received for so many years (a man he only knew as his godfather, Uncle Harry).
Minerva gave up all pretense of propriety when, moments later, both children were sorted into Ravenclaw.
/
From his place down the table, Professor Longbottom, too, paled at knowing the trouble the two children would cause.
Each of them stopped on their way to the table to give Lily's oldest brother Teddy a hug at the Hufflepuff table (James Sirius merely stuck his tongue out at them from his place at Gryffindor).
/
Cities away, Draco rocked their younger daughter in his arms as she sniffled, heartbroken at her big brother leaving her. Hermione chattered away about the adventures Reg would be having, the adventures her and Daddy did have during their own time at Hogwarts—the adventures of her own little Narcissa would have when she eventually went off to school. Her voice was excited and encouraging, but Draco saw the tears threatening to spill over.
"He was just born, really, I don't understand how he's already eleven," she proclaimed when they sat at the table after Cissa had fallen asleep, while they both downed another cup of coffee.
"I hate that it's what's best for him," Draco frowned. "If a crackpot like Dumbledore were still headmaster I could rationalize us keeping them to homeschool, but Minerva has their best interests at heart. And he's going to just love it—a whole place, just for learning?"
"Most Reg thing there ever was," she agreed. "When do you think we'll get her first howler about them?"
"Five galleons says within the month."
"Are you kidding? You're on. He and Lily will both be in Ravenclaw for sure—with them together, we'll get one before the week is up."
/
Hermione laughed gleefully when Reg's letter came the next day, informing her both he and Lily were, in fact in Ravenclaw.
Three hours later, just after the first Ravenclaw-Hufflepull Herbology lesson, a red envelope addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Granger-Malfoy arrived and promptly began shrieking with the voice of Neville Longbottom.
Hermione accepted her galleons graciously, watching with a broad smile and a happy heart as Draco pulled their daughter into his chest gently.
This is the life.