Chapter 6: Harry's Turn
"Nice. Power move," Blaise said, nodding thoughtfully to Ginny around a scone, "a girl proposing is proper hot."
"It is a power move," Pansy said slowly, tapping her nail along the edge of her teacup as she chose her words, "but we are supposed to be here advising Draco about how he can propose."
"Then wait until Hermione does." Ginny told Draco with a shrug, "Or wait until she saves your arse and then proposes."
"Appreciated." Draco drawled.
"Well, it is a rather exciting suggestion," Harry said, squeezing his wife's hand in support as he boyishly pushed his glasses up his nose, "but I think I have a more realistic idea."
"Harry James Potter, Hermione spent 9 years of her life saving your arse and you don't think it's a realistic idea she could-" Ginny began, rounding on the dark haired boy who quickly raised up his hands in defeat,
"That's not what I meant! I just mean that if Malfoy really is going to propose," Harry gestured over to Draco with a toss of his wrist, "He should get the full spectrum of suggestions. Mine will just be, er—on the more accessible side of the spectrum."
"Is it out of the country?" Draco asked, beginning to count off on his fingers.
"No." Harry replied.
"Does it involve you describing my girlfriend in her underwear?" Draco shot Blaise another glare to which the boy grinned back unabashedly.
"Ah, no." Harry grimaced, his glasses slipping down as he scrunched his nose. He did not want to think of his surrogate sister that way.
"Does it involve me waiting for Granger to rescue me from a ring of underground ex-Death Eaters?" Draco counted off the third question on his fingers.
"It does not."
"Then pass me another scone and hurry up." Draco said with a sigh, hand outstretched as Ginny scooted the plate towards him.
"Right, then." Harry said, sitting up in his seat, "Let's see."
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The holiday season was always Hermione's favorite time of the year, even long before she discovered she was a witch and spent literally magical holidays at Hogwarts or the Burrow. There was just something comforting to her about the longer nights, colder temperatures, and snowy weather that made her sad every time winter warmed to spring. So she soaked up as much cold weather and holiday cheer as she could before the decorations and lights got taken down and she had to put away her coats and heavy robes until next year.
And that's exactly what she was doing this evening, Draco having taken her out to a lovely dinner at one of the new restaurants in Diagon Alley called The Winding Wand. It was tastefully decorated for the holidays; wreaths and candles floating in front of windows, holly hung above individual tables, and enchanted snow fell from the swirling ceiling to match the weather outside, disappearing before it reached their heads. Hermione loved it.
It had been Draco's idea for them to try out the newest wizarding establishment, and although she knew he was painfully indifferent to the holidays, she was delighted at his choice. It was only a week or so until Christmas, when she and Draco would spend the morning at his mother's grave and then visit the Burrow for dinner, and she knew he wanted some time alone for the two of them before the holiday chaos took over. His hand had only briefly left hers during dinner when they had needed both hands to eat, the majority of the evening consisting of fingers brushing knuckles and nails tapping palms. When dinner had ended, Draco helped her back into her heavy winter robes, holding them up for her as she slipped her arms into the sleeves.
"Wait, Granger." He said, his hands holding onto her upper arms stopped her from walking back towards the fireplace in order to Floo home. Hermione looked over her shoulder questioningly at him as he nodded towards the windows where real snow was still falling softly outside, "Fancy a walk?"
Hermione broke out into a grin, looping her arm through his as they walked outside into the wizarding neighborhood, his hand finding hers once again.
In the years since the war's end, Diagon Alley had rebounded from its destruction and abandonment, now flourishing as new shops opened up each year. Even stores like Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour had been reopened under new management, although they kept the name in honor of it's deceased founder. The falling snow gently building along the cobblestones in slopes completed the cozy image of the festive neighborhood as busy light spilled out from the varied shops they passed.
"Only a few more months until what—our seventh anniversary reunion with the team at the Leaky Cauldron?" Draco asked, pausing in front of it and nudging Hermione as he gestured with his chin over at the old tavern on their right.
"Oh, that's right." Hermione's eyebrows rose in realization, "Has it really been that long?"
"It has." Draco murmured, running a long finger across the back of her hand absently. Draco and Hermione had a long-running tradition with their old Order teammates; on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts—the night Harry killed Voldemort and effectively won the Second Wizarding War—they would all gather at the Leaky Cauldron and get piss drunk off Ogden's and Dragon Scale. At the end of the night Tom the barkeep would 'forget' large chunks of their bill, and they'd tip him graciously before stumbling into the night chanting drinking songs.
'Team' was a loose term to call the group they assembled each year, since Order leadership was constantly reassigning, augmenting, and disassembling teams to fit various mission requirements. But as Numbers One and Two, Hermione and Draco considered their team to be the comrades they found themselves most-often paired with in various combinations; Lavender Brown, Adrian Pucey, George Weasley, Hestia Carrow and Flora Carrow, Seamus Finnigan, Terry Boot, Hannah Abbott, Theo Nott, and Justin Finch-Fletchley.
And before the night was done they'd take turns doing Firewhiskey shots in honor of the teammates they'd lost; Astoria Greengrass, Hephestius Arch, Fred Weasley, Colin Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Anthony Goldstein, Susan Bones, Severus Snape, and Harry Potter.
Harry Potter was included because as George put it, "I mean, the bloke definitely died for a bit there, yea?"
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Blaise nearly spit out his tea across the table, catching it in his cup instead as Pansy grimaced at the maneuver, "Do you lot really drink to Potter's death?"
For the first time since he sat down in the cafe Draco smiled, albeit wryly, "We do. The Weasel-twin's right, anyway." His eyes flicked over to Harry, "Who told you?"
"Hermione." Harry shrugged indifferently, "Seems therapeutic for you guys, and after all, I'm alive now aren't I?"
"To Potter's death!" Blaise toasted, raising his cup before draining it, Pansy blanching at the obvious ingestion of backwash.
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"Remember that first year after you had returned and could properly celebrate with us?" Hermione asked, slyly looking up at Draco. He turned green at the mere mention of the night.
"Oh Salazar, what was that, the fourth anniversary? I can't even look at a label of Gamp's without wanting to vomit." Draco made a face. Gamp's Old Gregarious was a specialty beer brewed by Tom from the Leaky Cauldron and named after Ulick Gamp, the first Minister of Magic. The beer was known for being particularly disgusting, and the team had made Draco finish a glass of it to make up for missing the past three reunions—two because he had been taken into custody pending is war crimes, and one because he had disappeared off the face of the earth and by Merlin, they were going to make him pay for it.
"That was my favorite year." Hermione grinned before tugging Draco back into motion, passing the Leaky Cauldron. Two shops down, Draco paused again.
"Potage's Cauldron Shop." He mused, looking up at the cauldron-shaped sign hanging above them, "Do you remember that year I walked in on you buying my Christmas present?"
"Well, you liked what I got you, didn't you?" Hermione defended herself as her face heated in remembered embarrassment.
"Only because in the end I picked it out." Draco smirked. For their first Christmas together, Hermione had wanted to get Draco something special, and decided on a new cauldron for brewing his potions. But she couldn't decide which cauldron would be best and was in the shop for several hours hemming and hawing over options.
Hermione had done laps around the cauldron shop, taking stock of the wares. Not the self-stirring kind, Draco liked to be in control of the stirring. The gold pot was nice but wouldn't really match the rest of his lab. White brass might be a good choice but is it really as durable as solid silver? Those new collapsible cauldrons would have been an option if Draco hadn't ranted about their inanity the other day when she subtly tried to press him about his brewing preferences.
And so she had debated with herself for several hours in the store, eventually commandeering all of the shop keepers in Potage's to assist her in deciding. That's how Draco had found her when he meandered into the shop that evening looking to pick up a new cauldron himself, having been considering one since Hermione had mentioned it the other day. Hermione was standing in the middle of the room, a hand on her hip in thought as the various shopkeepers held cauldrons up to her, lecturing about things like volume and history.
"Writing a research paper, are you Granger?" Draco's voice made her jump suddenly, looking between him and the assembled shop keeps. She instantly ran through a list of excuses in her head, jaw moving wordlessly.
"Solid pewter, silver finish. Size 5." Draco pointed to a cauldron one of the shop keeps was holding, interrupting Hermione's panic. He turned to walk back out the door before pausing, "Oh and throw in leather wrapping on the handle, emerald dye."
And then with a tinkling of enchanted bells over the door, he had left Hermione only to scrub at her cheeks and sigh, "What he said. Do you all gift wrap?"
"It's a good pot." Draco mused, looking down at Hermione through the falling snow, "It's held up through a few mishaps."
"And that was the year you got me those enchanted bookshelves." Hermione said, smiling fondly in remembrance.
"They were a necessity really, after we moved in together." Draco huffed, "I was getting tired of picking my way through a book maze when I wanted to get to the kitchen."
"Remember, you tried to keep the bookshelves a surprise until the very end of the evening and I was so mad because I thought all you had given me were socks?" Hermione raised an eyebrow up at him as they began walking again.
"Ok, but the socks," Draco said, gesturing emphatically with both hands, obviously having made this argument multiple times before, "Were spelled to read your body temperature and keep your toes perfectly cool or warm. If that's not the most perfect use of magic you've ever heard of, I'll go throw away my wand right now."
"Mmmm, maybe tracking down dangerous criminals for the Ministry is the wrong calling for you." Hermione teased as she tugged him along, "You obviously have a passion for magical socks—oh hey, Florean Fortescue's!"
It was Hermione's turn to pull Draco to a halt in front of the rebuilt and newly opened Ice Cream Parlour, "Aww, they finally got it up and running again."
"Remember our first date here?" Draco prompted, squeezing her arm.
"Ok, was that our first date, was getting coffee at the Ministry after you kissed me on the stairwell our first date, was me bringing take away to your cell during the trials our first date, or was spending that night-watch shift together at Stradikoff during the war our first date?" Hermione prompted.
"I believe," Draco said pointedly, "That I only specifically asked you to accompany me for one of those."
As they watched through the wide front windows of the ice cream parlour a wizarding family ordered a round of sticky toffee pudding ice cream for their three young kids and a group of Ravenclaw students poured over a stack of textbooks as their butterbeer ice creams melted. One of the employees boredly wiped down counters with a flick of their wand as two boys in the back shared a banana split, laughing and jostling each other for spoonfuls.
"You're intolerable." Draco added softly after a pause, elbowing her.
"You're inaccurate." Hermione replied tenderly, jabbing him back.
Inside the store, the three little kids jumped up and down as their parents passed out cones.
"And I happen to remember that after our first date-" Draco continued, resuming their walk.
"-Alleged first date." Hermione interrupted, receiving a glare.
"Afterwards, you pulled me into Flourish and Blotts where we spent twice as long looking at books." He tilted his head towards the bookshop as they passed, "Even though I don't think you bought any."
"I refuse to take offense to that." Hermione sniffed, nose in the air as Draco chuckled and placed a kiss at her temple. They continued their relaxed stroll through the snow until Draco slowed to admire the storefront widow at Twilfitt and Tattings, displaying the latest in wizarding fashion.
"Now that's a set of dress robes." Draco let out an appreciative whistle, "Imported fabric, looks like Italian."
Hermione looked up at the male mannequin wearing a sharply-cut, dark blue suit that had a faint silvery fleur-de-lis print on it and privately wondered what about it looked Italian. Try as she might to keep up with fashion and look somewhat decent for Ministry work, Hermione was never good at it in the effortless way that Draco seemed to be instinctively drawn to style. Between his confidence and his inheritance, Hermione was pretty sure Draco could pull off just about any outfit. As much as she, Harry, and Ron had made fun of him for his preoccupation with clothes at school, Hermione couldn't deny that dating a man who had an eye for fashion had some major positives . . . most of them to do with ogling.
"It would look handsome on you." Hermione mused, patting Draco's arm with her free hand.
"Everything looks handsome on me." He replied reflexively and Hermione rolled her eyes, "But perhaps it is time for a new suit. The last time we were here was for Potter and the She-Weasel's wedding."
Back then, Hermione had hissed at Draco with an indignant hand on her hip, "Malfoy. I do not need a bespoke dress for this wedding! I have plenty of dressed already in my closet to choose from!"
"Look." Draco had said sharply under his breath, holding onto Hermione's upper arm in the corner of the tailor's shop where he had dragged her. Muslin was pinned to half his body—measurements for a new suit—and every motion he made sent little puffs of chalk dust into the air, "If I am going to have to sit through hours of a wedding, followed by hours of a dinner, before hours of a reception, surrounded by the entire Weasel family and all of your Gryffin-bore friends, I—" He waved his arm at the bland muslin pinned to his side, "am going to look damn good, and you are going to wear a fantastic dress. Clear?"
"But—but the cost!" Hermione continued, not ready to give up the fight just yet.
"How many times do I have to tell you; bollocks to that, I'm fucking rich. Now can we please get back to the sartorialist?" He sighed, relaxing his grip, "I will have a much easier time surviving this wedding if you look stunning. Better than the bride, even."
Hermione still had hesitated and he gave her arm a small squeeze as the tailor and several assistants pretended not to be listening, "Please, Granger? Let me do this for you."
That had done her in, and Hermione had allowed herself to be magically measured and poked and wrapped up for almost and hour while Draco finished getting fitted for his suit. It hadn't been imported Italian fabric but he had looked exceedingly handsome at the wedding and she, as promised, had ended up in a fabulous dress and robes.
Although neither of them looked half as good as Ginny had, red hair curled and loose, standing at the altar in a trailing white dress—but they put up a good fight.
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"I'd like the record to show that I beg to differ." Draco interjected, holding up a slim finger as Ginny planted a kiss on Harry cheek.
"Noted." Harry responded before continuing.
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"You know now that I think of it, you should wear that dress on Christmas. And every day leading up to Christmas." Draco commented, receiving a snot from Hermione.
"Come on . . ." They resumed their walk through the neighborhood and although it was later in the evening and the snow had picked up a bit, they were undeterred. They strolled in careful silence past Weasley's Wizard Weezes, choosing not to stop in front of that shop. Hermione only patronized it when George was working and she doubted that Draco had ever set foot inside. His last run-in with Ron had been barely civil, and she figured neither of them was too keen for a repeat.
The next store they passed caught her eye and Hermione was happy to be dragged from her thoughts by the sight of the apothecary, "You know Malfoy, you gave me flack earlier for dragging you into Flourish and Blotts, but how often have you pulled me into Slug and Jiggers for 'one pinch of so-and-so'?"
"I don't remotely sound like that." Draco sniffed, "And at least I buy ingredients when I go here, you just go to Flourish and Blotts to look at the books."
"Because, I have other books I need to finish before getting new ones! And I totally buy new books or else you wouldn't need to have enchanted a pair of bookshelves in order to navigate our flat." She countered.
A smile twitched at the corner of Draco's lips, "Agree to disagree."
He lead them back along the street and into the newest section of Diagon Alley. The neighborhood had expanded rapidly since the war, with new streets winding this way and that. They strolled nowhere in particular past freshly painted storefronts and newly-hung signs; Madame Lovelace's Charm Shop, Jinx's Counter-Curses and Anti-Jinxes, Enduring Enchantments Ltd., Burt and Bish's Muggle Goods. This new section of town was much busier than the older shops, with students home on holiday running around and wizarding families checking out the newly opened establishments.
Despite the sights, Hermione found her gaze wandering over to Draco. As he turned to look at the front window of a store selling plants and herbs for brewing she traced his profile with her eyes, making a note for possibly the thousandth time of the slope of his nose and high planes of his cheekbones, the faint scar on his jaw where he had barely dodged an errant spell from a Death Eater's wand. The snow falling on his platinum-blonde hair made the edges around him fuzzy and Hermione felt a heady rush of sudden affection for the man walking next to her as she tucked herself in closer next to him. He curled his fingers around the hand she had hooked through his arm and gave them a squeeze in response.
"What are you thinking about?" Draco murmured quietly through the snow falling between them.
"You." Hermione answered honestly and he looked over in faint amusement, warmth sparking in his grey eyes.
"What do you see for us in the future?" He asked after a few more steps, looking back out at the new shops around them tugging his coat collar up against a swirl of snow.
"Kids." She said firmly, after a moment of consideration and gestured to the shops around them, "We may have helped win the war, but we can still contribute good to this world. Raise our children right to make sure the next generation doesn't repeat the cycle of prejudiced hate and can move forward to finally accepting all magical beings—while also protecting muggles."
"How exceedingly Gryffindor." Draco replied dryly and then added lightly, "How many should we have?"
"Two or three I think. Maybe more? Six?" She teased, tugging on his arm playfully.
"You mean you don't want an only child like we were? You bloody traitor." Draco accused.
"Well if we have magical children, I'd like for at least one of them to end up Gryffindor. I'm hedging my bets." Hermione shrugged.
"Impossible. Malfoy's have been sorted into Slytherin for generations." The blonde sniffed and Hermione raised her eyebrows at him,
"You mean Malfoy-Granger's."
"What?" Draco frowned, looking down at her as he stopped walking. They were on the outskirts of Diagon Alley now, halfway between where the new shops ended and partially-completed construction of apartments began.
"Our children. I think we should hyphenate." Hermione reiterated, amused by the crease that appeared between Draco's eyebrows. Imagine how much deeper it would be if they did end up raising a child together. A tiny Malfoy-Granger human. She was suddenly struck with the desire to see Draco as a father and to have a child of her own—not just a thought or hope or a wish for a brighter future, but an actual flesh-and-blood family-
"And would you take my last name if we married?" He asked, pulling her from her thoughts as a wipe of snow curled around them, fanning his bangs upwards.
"Probably not. I quite like the sound of 'Hermione Granger'. And then you could still use 'Granger' as a pet name, right Malfoy?" She reached up and pinched one of his cheeks in teasing, an excuse to touch him as his skin warmed her fingers. He rolled his eyes but caught her hand against his cheek, unlinking their arms.
"Well then, Hermione Granger. Would you like to stay Hermione Granger?" Draco said slowly, producing a small black box from his pocket and getting down on one knee in the snow before her. Hermione's eyes widened and her fingers flew to her lips as he opened the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring with a simple silver setting and sparkling cut, "I had it made a few months ago, I've just been waiting to hear how much you loathe taking my last name or passing it on to our future progeny for me to-"
"Malfoy." Hermione said, reaching out to touch his hand around the box, "Shut up or I'll say no."
And suddenly she was in Draco's arms and his warm cheek was pressed against hers, the two of them laughing in the snow as evening slipped into night. Hermione held on tightly to Draco as she admired the simple yet stunning new ring on her finger, reflecting the lights of the nearby Diagon Alley shops. Draco pressed a kiss against her temple, the two of them standing in their own little world as another gust of snow swirled around their entwined forms.
Hermione loved the holidays.
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A/N: I can't tell if this chapter or the next one is my faovirte. 6 down, 2 to go!
Thanks to everyone for the follows and reviews! Be back next week! Ta-ta!