THE MALFOY MARRIAGE MEMOIR
Chapter 1
Holding On To A Broken Dream
"Oh, fuck, yes! Right there!'
He groaned above her, and it didn't take long for the both of them to come undone, and soon after, he was slumped over her, trailing lazy fingers through her ringlets before rolling off of her in one swift motion, collapsing on the queen size beside her, unconsciously snaking an arm around her sweaty waist to pull her closer to him and spoon her to his front.
"This doesn't change anything, you know," she whispered, caressing the hand that lay upon her ribcage, resting torpidly against the underside of her breast.
He said nothing in return, and simply pressed his head forward and inhaled her post-sex scent, humming through her curls and kissing her neck in an absent-minded fashion.
"I mean it," she said, when her previous statement elicited no reply from him.
He said nothing but slid his hand upwards to pinch the sore peaks he'd lavished with attention just a while before, while pushing his leg between hers, commanding her to forget her line of thought as she moaned in a befuddled haze.
This hadn't been what she'd had in mind when Draco had returned home that night and gone off again to drop Leo at his beloved Granny Narcissa's place. He'd returned just as quickly as he'd left and presented her with thick strips of satin that had sat rather proudly on his hands.
They'd been put to good use, she noted, and still hung limply around her wrists and forehead from when she'd pushed them off her eyes. If she knew that all it took for her husband to go sex-crazy on her was insulting his sexual prowess, she'd have mentioned the mechanical love making sooner, but she knew it was just his bruised ego doing the work for now.
Nonetheless, it felt good to have him better invested in what they did under the covers - so to speak - and she certainly wasn't complaining. It had been a while since she'd felt so wanted, and, heavens, did it feel good.
It still felt good as she rocked her hips in rhythm to his and threw her head back to rest on his chest with reckless abandon as he prepared her for another round.
"So hot, love, and all for me," he murmured in her ears, while palming her center, and she almost came undone at that itself, because Godric knew it had been ages since she'd last been worshipped like this.
"Say you like this," he groaned, as they began to ride together towards their climax.
"I - ah – I like - oh," she whimpered, biting her lip at the ecstasy coursing through her veins.
"Who else can make you feel this way, Hermione?"
"No one," she bit out and met back each of his thrusts with equal vigour, each one closer to sending her over the edge. "No one but you."
"Good," he smirked, licking at the shell of her earlobe, and that sweet sensation was all it took to send her riding down the blissful waves of release, and he followed soon after.
"Merlin, that was amazing," he sighed contentedly in the aftermath, rubbing his nose against her cheek. "God, I love you."
A solitary tear slid down her cheek.
"Why?"
He chuckled. "Why? You're my wife."
She sighed, caressing his fingertips. "Not good enough," she whispered, but he was already asleep.
-X-X-X-
Draco coughed as a cloud of dust hit him in the face, and wheezed in disgust, waving his wand about to settle the sandstorm brewing in his attic.
It was a Sunday, which meant his Mother would be bringing Leo back by around 10, so he had about thirty minutes to hunt for his old broom to give Leo his first proper riding lesson.
He had, so far, been unsuccessful to say the least, and had been reunited with a couple of his old sweatpants and Hermione's worn out tennis rackets, but there was still no sign of the pesky little broomstick.
Speaking of Hermione...he sighed. His wife had been in a horrible mood this morning, not very unlike most other mornings, and he'd chosen to stay away, considering he didn't particularly fancy having a knife thrown at him before he'd had at least five cups of coffee. And to think he'd gone to bed assuming that their passionate romp in the sheets would lead to a much more pleasant witch to be around come morning.
He sighed again. No matter what he did, he just couldn't seem to do anything right. And he couldn't even find a blasted broomstick. He could have Accio-ed it but he didn't especially love the idea of a layer of dust- that was as thick as Hermione said his skin was - coating his body from head to toe.
He grabbed at the first thing he could find behind the collection of his old Chocolate Frog cards that a childish part of him still refused to part with, and came in contact with a thick, worn-out, leather bound book which he pulled out for closer inspection, eyes widening when he finally realised what it was that his fingers had gripped at the edges.
He dropped it at his feet in a second of panic, and stared in mute fascination as it flew open to a random page that was crammed untidily with his scrawls.
He knelt down gingerly, and hesitantly brought up his old journal to his bent knee, bringing it into the light of the faint Lumos he had cast earlier.
23rd July, 2005
I can't believe I went through with it. I did it. And she said yes.
Yes.
A clear, warm and resounding yes.
"Will you, Hermione Jean Granger, do me the honour of becoming my wife?"
"Yes."
It was that simple. She'd cried and clamped me into one her famous Griffindor hugs, and let me go for a split second before attacking my lips with hers and pushing me onto the kitchen table, not caring if she spilt red wine onto the carpet.
I didn't care much either, and all thoughts of 1000 galleons worth of carpets flew out of my brain when it finally dawned upon me that I, Draco Malfoy, would be spending the rest of my life with Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, and the love of my life, and that she would bear my children and grow old with me and make me the luckiest man on Earth.
Heck, I already was the luckiest man on Earth, and I couldn't help but wonder how despite four years of togetherness, she still managed to take my -
Draco slammed the diary shut, and realised that he had been holding in his breath ever since he'd started reading.
He let it out in one slow puff, and shuddered. He was nowhere near ready to replay how much in love they'd been; it hurt too much.
He finally caught sight of the dammed broomstick and made to leave, locking the door behind him, and still didn't realise, until he was back in his room, that he'd brought his journal down with him, and that his finger was still lodged between the pages.
He thumbed through the leaves with the air of a man who had given up, and was startled out of this activity by Hermione calling out to let him know that Leo had arrived.
He leapt up from his place on the bed and hastily crammed the diary in between the sheets on his side of the bed, before going out to greet his mother and his son.
-X-X-X-
Draco hummed contentedly as he stepped out of the bathroom, a towel draped around his waist, while he rubbed another over his wet hair. He began whistling unconsciously, and put on his comfy tracks leisurely, shucking off the towel around him. He sat on his bed and palmed at his scalp one last time before throwing that towel onto the other one on the bed beside him.
He heard Hermione clear her throat from the doorway, and glanced up to see that she was looking at the towels he'd left on the bed. He immediately snatched them back and muttered a quick drying spell on both the towels and the bed sheet.
She sighed and stepped into the room, walking forward till she was standing right before him. He looked up and she placed both her hands on his bare shoulders, still warm from the bath, squeezing at them softly.
'What's the matter?' he asked.
She shook her head. 'Nothing. I put Leo to bed.'
'Good,' he replied, looking down again, fixating on the little tear in her pants at her left knee.
'He – he really enjoyed today, you know. I could tell - first flying lesson and all. He's only three, but already mad about his toy broomstick and about learning how to fly with Daddy.' Her voice caught.
He glanced up again, and noticed her blinking furiously.
'And – I just,' she continued, remorsefully. 'I'm sorry for the other night. I really am. I, well - I shouldn't have said what I did.'
He nodded, then moved to rest his hands on her waist as her grip on his shoulder tightened, head drooping so that the tips of her hair ticked his face. His fingers hooked into the loops of her jeans and he dragged her even closer, resting his forehead against her stomach, pressing a little kiss to her belly and inhaling the blank smell of her plaid shirt.
She smiled and moved her hands up till they were wound in his hair, holding him in place and gently massaging his scalp, as his arms moved around her to circle her hips in an embrace, while they both thought about how they hadn't just held each other in this way in a very, very long time.
-X-X-X-
A/n - Thank you to all those who read and reviewed the previous chapter! I'm so pleased you guys like the idea! I hope this chapter was adequate for the time being. A bit short, yes, but the next ones will be longer.
Do leave a review!