Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my imagination. I was inspired by another romance novel i read and J.K. Rowlings wonderful world. Enjoy! and Please leave reviews.

Chapter 50

"Wrapped so Pretty"

Earlier that evening while Draco was away enjoying himself at the party, Hermione took a long walk up on the mountain and daydreamed about their future. She considered places they might want to visit together once their baby was born. She rubbed her hand across the dress she was wearing, soothing the tiny kicks of her little one. She was all baby now, so large that she didn't think there could possibly be any room left for her to grow.

She didn't need to think twice on the fact that this would be their home. She had grown to love the house, and could see so much potential for their estate, with a little help from his mother. When she went back to work she could arrange for her schedule to fit a little better with her life this time, that would give her time to work on her garden. She could envision images of a beautifully blonde angel with ripples of flowing curls sorting through a rows of silken long roses and tulips. Perhaps during the holidays they could invite over her friends and family that she missed so dearly.

Once back home she pulled out several root clippings, enchanted rose from Narcissa's garden. Mum had given them to her to try on her own. Hermione unwrapped the tiny cuttings on her kitchen counter and dipped them into a special powder as she was told. And as rapid as fire the plant began to sprout roots, she used several teacups from the cupboard, and filled them with a rich soil. Then, using her wand she made a pencil size hole where she dropped the sprouting roots in.

She made nine more this way, until she simply ran out of teacups. That afternoon, when Draco had not yet returned from the celebration party, she took the teacups from the window's shelf and set her collection of herbs back into their proper places.

When she awakened the following Sunday morning to the sound of the shower, she realized that Draco had returned home some time after she had fallen asleep last night, and she was disappointed that he had slipped in and out of bed without waking her, but she dismissed it all due to the fact that maybe she'd overworked herself yesterday with her roses and simply didn't hear him come in. She had gotten into the habit of keeping him company while he showered during the day, but the bathroom door remained firmly shut, and it wasn't until she decide to start their breakfast that she finally met up with him in the kitchen.

"Good morning party animal," she spoke softly with a smile and waited for him to take her into his arms like always. Instead, he muttered something back and slipped passed her, aiming for the cupboard tops that held their plates and bowls.

"How was your party?" She asked.

"rubbish."

"oh." she replied. That explained his bad mood.

He carried his cereal bowl over to the sink and splashed a box of his Lucky's into the bowl, as he turned he pointed a finger out of their bay window into the direction of the lawn. "I don't like coming home and finding my property as if gnomes ripped the place apart."

She gave a playful laugh and came up to kiss him briskly on the cheek. "No silly, I was planting some roses yesterday while you were away. Are they budding yet?"

"I don't know, and frankly Hermione I don't care what they're doing. It doesn't matter, you should have talked to me before you took it on yourself to digging holes every where."

The tender lover she spent yesterday daydreaming hadn't come home with this dragonhead, uneasiness crept through her. She'd begun to think of this as her home, too. She drew a deep breath and repressed her hurt as she struggled to speak. " I didn't think you'd mind."

"Well I did, —do. I do mind Hermione."

"All right. We can pick out something you like. I'll be happy to plant them for you."

A look of absolute horror crossed his face, as if she just bashed him in the head with an enormous pumpkin. "I don't pick flowers Hermione! Not now, not ever, and neither do you, so leave it alone. Try working on your research or something." He picked up his bowl and spoon and walked out. She debated whether she was going to tell him to go to hell, or cut him some slack. Despite the hurt, she decided on the later and followed him into the dining room, where he sat at the very end of their glass dining table.

She could always tell him to go to hell later. . .

She lingered in the doorway. Hermione had not been in this room since their last argument. Something about the room always seemed to capture an ominous feeling with her now, and that feeling was returning as she passed its threshold.

Long and divined, the piece was capable of sitting twenty-eight, plus two heads for both ends. Perhaps a few holidays would lift the rooms spirit some day. Hermione could easily imagine the table filled with family and friends, mounds of food and holiday desserts.

Draco was sitting clear across the room, at the head of table, facing the door where she stood. He lifted a spoonful of cereal and began chewing.

She approached his side, pulled out one of the chairs, and took a seat upon its soft cushion, and studied the chiseled artwork beneath the glass tabletop.

She started to speak, then stopped. At last she spoke up. "When I was little, and had really bad days at school. . . . which was . . . pretty often before I found out . . . well, before I learn that I was a witch. My mum would sometimes make me chicken soup for lunch. And my dad . . .well my dad, he would usually give me these little animal crackers. . and I would float them. . . like a boat, in my. . .in my bowl. . ." her voice faded into a shy laugh. "I can make some for our lunch this evening, chicken noodle soup." she smiled, but he didn't look up, he didn't even notice. "I-I don't think I have the slightest of where to find animal crackers."

He didn't say anything back to her, he just chewed and swallowed.

"Would you like that?"

"I don't know. I might not be here, so don't go putting yourself through any trouble."

"Where will you be I can have-"

"-I don't know! You'll see me when you see me. Don't try to tie me down Hermione. I won't have it." With that he finished what was left of his cereal and left.

She sat there, in that chair, trying to control her breathing and her nerves. She felt detached and blank, she told herself not to over dramatize what had just happened. He was just upset about something. She also began to second guess the idea of ever having him attend the party. Could something have happened there? Is that why he's so sour? Despite his change, Hermione refuse allow dark thoughts of what may have happened enter her mind. She loved him, and she also knew he loved her, she saw the proof in their love making, and in the times they shared together now.

She made herself eat a slice of buttered toast, and although she tried, bits and pieces of unwanted questions came to her. What if the very thing she feared had finally happened? What if he finally stopped wanting her, stopped seeing her as even a challenge for him, and lost interest in having her in his life? Just two days ago, she'd been so certain he loved her, but now she felt like the room was closing in around her . . . .

She realized she was sulking, in unneccesary self-pity and she got up, but instead of going outside to view her roses, she found herself wandering through the house. She walked into the study, this was the room he'd arrived in one night so drunk, that she left him sleeping on the couch. further in the room stood a large cherry wood desk and the fireplace of course. She came to a second door in the rear of the room, it was unlock, so she entered.

The room was practically empty. A few book shelf from his years a school, old, one torn, his book of monster was sleeping quietly, an brown leather belt securely tighten around it. She chuckled remembering there first class with Hagrid as their teacher. She leaned over and blew the dust from a tiny object.

"Mistress?"

The tiny voice of an house elf could be heard beyond the door.

"Mistress Malfoy are you here?"

Hermione popped her head out. The house elf smiled at her and leaped forward. "Master Malfoy has received a letter." said the elf holding up a light brown envelope, sealed with emblem she did not recognize.

"Thank you." She smiled, as she took the letter and stroked the elf kindly along his fuzzy ears. "I'll see that Mr. Malfoy gets this the moment he returns."

The elf exited the room and again Hermione's curiosity for the delivery got the best of her.

B.S., well she didn't know anyone with those initials. But wait, B.S. The attorney at their wedding was Ballimore something. Every pore in her body told her to put the envelope into his draw, that she had no right to snoop. She slip her wand beneath its fold and to her surprise, broke the seal.

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

Due to the urgency of this matter, I have to stress the need for you to respond immediately. While I was away on vacation, I ran across the most extraordinary witch. Then, suddenly it occurred to me, how I could pulled the whole thing off. Nothing like a white sand beach to unlock the brain cells; I'm just sorry it took so long. Anyway, I met with the young lady several times during my vacation concerning your current issues with Mrs. Granger. I do believe we have a winner here, she works as a columnist for Ms. Skeeter's crew. She's a new cast, a bit amateur, when compared to Rita, but she has potential and a heart similar to my own. She has agreed to cast the report. But if we're going to act on it we should do it now, strike while the cauldron's burning.

I didn't want to make a personal appearance, for obvious reasons. So I sent this letter the moment I arrived, simply send back word of mouth by one of your most trusted house elves' and I shall rush you the report that will explain everything.

Signed

Ballimore Sutcliffe