A/N: Thank you again to all my readers! I hope you enjoy the finale.

Epilogue Part II

Sigurd sat before his easel, a brush in one hand and his palette in the other, staring at another blank canvas. He knew exactly what he wanted to paint but also wanted to take his sweet time doing it.

His lips curved up into a tender smile. Today was the day he was going to immortalize his wedding night. It had been unusual, their wedding, having made it open for the public to attend. Thousands of witches and wizards from around the world came to witness the event.

Turning back to his easel, he chose the extreme dark to contrast with vibrant colors in the style of renaissance painters. It was one of his favorite styles to paint Hermione with. She was like the light in the darkness that drew him through life and he liked to represent that feeling through his color choices.

Holding the scene he intended to capture in his mind's eye, Sigurd held up his small bit of charcoal to sketch his basic outline. Hermione laying, spread, on his large bed. The heavy green velvet curtains were lashed to the scrolling bedposts. Light filtered in through the sheer curtains, illuminating the breath-taking woman on the bed. Her brunette curls cascaded over his pillows, her hands exploring her own body. Her eyes begging him to come closer, to touch her, to worship her as she longed to do to him.

He closed his eyes as his throat became dry, remembering the hours they had spent making love that night. And every time since. She was still the light in his darkness, leading him to be a better man.

She had given him more than he could have ever hoped for- passion, a family, a home, her love. Each gift more precious than the last.

He set aside the charcoal and took up the brush, hoping to be finished in time for Family Sunday. Although, he would bet Hermione would appreciate a private reveal in this case. A smile grew on his lips as he imagined her reaction.

The last time he gifted her with a nude, she covered his face with her kisses, moving lower and lower, unzipping his trousers, until she was on her knees between his thighs. Once she had freed his cock from the confines of his trousers, she sucked his cock into her mouth. Pouring her attention into pleasuring him. It was one of his fondest memories.

He shifted in his seat trying to get comfortable again but knew until he was finished with the painting, he would be in a severe state of arousal.

**HGHG**

Bast sat quietly observing the boys around him. They gravitated towards him without being fully aware of what they were doing and yet Bast never felt completely a part of their conversations. He was treated with a careful reverence.

They all deferred to him.

Some because of his mother having played a pivotal role in the destruction of Voldemort. Some because they were drawn to the part of him that was Tom Riddle. Some because he was a powerful wizard. And even more because of his kindness. He tried to let it all roll off his shoulders and not let it bother him. Outwardly, he succeeded. Inwardly he was an anxious mess.

"Bast, your sister is standing outside of the common room again."

Bast looked up and smirked, nodding his head in thanks. He stood up and stretched before making his way to Denna.

She was arguing with one of his dormmates in the corridor when he approached. Her blond braids swung menacingly as she quivered with indignation, finger stabbing the bulkier chest of Makas Zabini. Whos eyes were glittering with repressed interest. It was no secret that he loved to tease Denna because she was truly something to behold when angered. Bast rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall waiting for Denna to notice him.

It was also no secret that Zabini was in love with Denna, but it seemed like the only person that didn't know was Denna herself.

With one last screech of frustration, Denna turned her back to Zabini, pointing her now furious glare in his direction. Bast held up his hands. He was Switzerland.

She harrumphed and grabbed his hand pulling Bast back toward the Great Hall, ignoring Zabini's idiotic parting shot. If he ever wanted a chance with Denna in the future, he would have to stop goading her into a fury.

"So…" Bast started as they finally reached the main entrance. He hoped she had cooled off enough so that he figure out what brought her down to the Slytherin den this time.

"Are you okay?" she turned around quickly, so quickly that he almost ran into her. She said it angrily, throwing him completely off balance.

"Am I? What?"

"Are. You. OK?" she said slowly as if he wasn't grabbing the concept of what she was saying.

"Ummm, sure. Are you okay?" Bast asked, feeling as if this was some sort of trap.

Denna sighed and ran her hand down her face, in the same manner, Papa Abraxas did when she said something weird. It was this more than anything that clued him into her feelings.

"What is going on?" He moved closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, lowering his voice as it turned menacing. No one but no one was allowed to hurt his sister!

She steered them into one of the abandoned classrooms right outside of the Great Hall. Once they were alone Denna pulled away and avoided his gaze, adjusting her Ravenclaw tie. "It's Layla again. She is being bullied by the Gryffindors again just because she has these visions, just like Daddy Sigurd. You would think the Hufflepuffs would rally around a little first year and protect her, especially since none of us siblings are in the same house. I do what I can but those Gryffindors are seventh years and they don't take me seriously. She needs you to step in and protect her."

"Who was it this time? I know it wasn't Blythe. He nearly wet himself the last time I confronted him."

"It was Sylvanias Kettleburn," Denna said firmly, knowing that Bast would have a difficult time telling off Sarah's little brother. After all these years, he was still head over heels in love with the new Medi-witch apprentice.

Finally, Bast nodded. "I'll take care of it,"

"See that you do. Oh, and tell Zabini to stop being an arse and leave me alone." Denna said with her nose in the air.

"You tell him yourself," Bast muttered mutinously as he left the room. He went up, taking the stairs two at a time, hoping to catch Kettleburn outside of his common room. He would rather not have to give this dressing down in public.

Things never went that smoothly for him though. Even though Kettleburn was indeed outside of his common room, he was surrounded by the bulk of his housemates.

"Kettleburn, a word," Bast commanded in his low silky dangerous voice. The one he learned from Papa Lucius a long time ago.

The whole hallway fell silent. The boys fidgeted. The girls stared, hoping to catch his eye. But he only had his single arched brow to show that he was done waiting. He wasn't asking. He was telling Sylvanias to come talk.

"What do you want?" Kettleburn sneered. Even now after all the years, and healing since the war Gryffindors still hated Slytherins and vice versa. Except Bast didn't hate anyone. Not really. And he was deeply infatuated with Sarah and would like to be on good terms with her brother. Seems like some wants were just too much to hope for.

"Leave Layla Malfoy alone," Bast said calmly but firmly, twirling his wand in between his fingers. It was well known that he was gifted in magic. More so than even his mother, Hermione Granger.

"What are you going to do if I don't?" Kettleburn sneered. "She is a freak just like the rest of your family."

Students began filing quietly out of the corridor knowing that whatever this was, wasn't going to end well.

"If you don't," Bast drawled. "I will make you and you can ask Blythe how well that turned out for him,"

"Blythe is an idiot."

"And you're not?"

"I can take you,"

"I would like to see you try," Bast said with a snort. Hermione had taught all of them how to duel, knowing that the world wouldn't always be kind to a bunch of Death Eater's children, especially him who had those who wanted to use him as a rallying point and those who had tried very hard, in the beginning, to make sure that a toddler was tossed into Azkaban just because Tom Riddle was in his head.

"What is going on here?" Headmaster Potter asked, giving a nod in the direction of the Pink Lady who had obviously gone for help the moment Bast turned up at Gryffindor Tower. Once upon a time, Bast himself had been bullied, but that was long in the past now that he was widely regarded as the most powerful student at Hogwarts. It was surely out of fear of Hermione's wrath that the Headmaster kept such close watch on his nephew.

"Nothing," Kettleburn said triumphantly. He obviously thought this was a win in his favor. Oh, how wrong he was.

"Mr. Lestrange is there something you want to tell me?" Harry asked.

"Kettleburn has been bullying Layla and I merely came to ask him to leave my sister alone."

Harry turned to Gryffindor. "Is this true?"

Kettleburn remained stubbornly silent.

"Detention Mr. Kettleburn with Professor Black. He was just telling me that he needed some students to scrape the goo off the bottom of the tables in the Transfiguration classroom."

He perked up for a moment. Sirius Black was the coolest teacher they have ever had! It wouldn't be a punishment at all.

"But since he plans to go on a two-month leave for personal reasons, you will have to spend it with his substitute."

"Who's that?" He asked

"Narcissa Snape," Harry said with a twinkle in his eye. Narcissa was a renowned war hero whose deadly exploits at the final battle were loudly proclaimed across every single newspaper after the war. No one in their right mind would mess with the woman now. And that wasn't even considering that the woman was married to the scariest man alive. Severus Snape. Kettleburn gulped, appropriately chastised.

"And don't think you are getting off scot-free, Lestrange," Harry said.

"What did I do?" Bast asked outraged.

"I know what you did to Blythe. If I hadn't come, you would have done the same thing to Kettleburn."

"There is nothing in the handbook that says that I can't turn him into a ferret."

"Yes, there is, in fact. It was implemented specifically in my fourth year. You should ask Draco about that sometime…" Harry was obviously wickedly amused. Bast smirked, intending on doing just that.

"You may go, Mr. Kettleburn but it would behoove you to remember to treat others as you wish to be treated in the future."

"Yes Headmaster," He grumbled as he shuffled away towards dinner.

"What do you say we head down as well?" Harry asked Bast. "How is everything going this year?"

"Things are good. I'm so ready to take my N.E.W.T.s. I'm a little bored, to be honest. I feel like this last year was a waste of time. Time, that I could have spent in an apprenticeship."

"Have you decided what you want to do?"

"I thought I would take a year and do a world tour. See what was out there. Learn new magic in the real world. Take my time. I don't want to work at the Ministry. That would be a disaster. Or any other desk job. I want to practice amazing magic, but I want to do it on my terms. Maybe I will just learn as much as I can about obscure magic like Hecate's portals and try to reconstruct something similar without trapping someone inside the enchantment. It would be a bloody brilliant way to travel. No soot, no windswept hair, no squeezing compression."

"Watch your mouth," Harry warned indulgently.

"It would even be safe for family use," Bast continued without hearing Harry's admonishment. "What a relief that would have been when Imogen was younger. She hated using the floo. Screamed like a Banshee,"

Harry and Bast parted at the doors of the Great Hall. Bast pushed through and scanned the Hufflepuff table searching for Layla. It didn't take long. Her white blond curly hair stuck out like a red flag to a bull. He never had problems finding his sisters in a crowd. Klaus, on the other hand, was small and looked more like their mum.

He dropped his bag beside her, plopping down on the bench with her catching Denna's eyes from the opposite side. Layla didn't seem to mind being semi shunned by the other students. But that is just how she was. Always so happy and serene. The complete opposite of Denna.

"Let me know if Kettleburn gives you any more trouble," Bast said loading mashed potatoes on his plate and then a scoopful on Layla's. For every portion he took, he added the same but smaller to Layla's plate. She had a tendency to forget to eat when she was working on something. And she was knee-deep into her latest drawing.

Imogen and Klaus sniffing buttercups.

Bast smiled. "You are getting really good!"

"Thanks," she said brightly, pausing long enough to pop a few carrots into her mouth.

"So, what did you do to him?" Denna asked loud enough so that the Gryffindor's would hear.

"Nothing," Bast said lowering his voice. "The Headmaster was tipped off and booked it to catch us in the act. The joke is on him. He arrived too early to see what I would have done to Kettleburn if he had waited. Kettleburn needs a good thrashing."

"Tell me about it," Denna mumbled in between bites of dinner.

"Now I know where all the pretty girls are eating," Zabini slid into the seat next to Denna's and reached for a goblet of pumpkin juice.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, Zabini?" Denna asked archly.

"Eating?" he said in a mock-innocent voice.

"Go back to your own table!"

"Make me," Zabini said with a pleased smile.

Bast rolled his eyes and looked at Layla who looked as if she was going to bust out in laughter any moment. "What is so funny?"

"He is going to marry her someday," Layla said just loud enough for them to hear and it shut Denna and Zabini up fast. Both blushed deep red and avoided the others gaze.

"That," Denna said. "Is not bloody likely,"

The hope in Zabini's eyes died in seconds.

"Especially if he lets your bad attitude sway him into leaving you alone," Layla said with a lovely, unassuming smile, reminiscent of their Nana Snape's. And the hope was right back, leaving Zabini smirking for the rest of the meal.

**HGHG**

Harry sat behind his desk in the Headmasters office and steepled his fingers together, letting his lips rest against them. There was no longer denying things anymore. They had a serious situation on their hands and the note laying flat on his desk was not the first warning.

The floo flashed emerald green for several seconds as Hermione Malfoy walked through.

"Well?" she asked sitting primly in the chair opposite. "What was so important that you felt the need to call for this emergency meeting?"

Harry pushed the parchment across the desk and watched as she read it. Indifference was the only emotion he could glean.

"Now we know what happened to Professor Winkler all those years ago," Hermione said deeply amused.

"This is not a funny situation. This could easily turn into the old days were families were murdered, masters were recruited, and people went mysteriously missing!"

"I think that is rather dramatic," Hermione deadpanned. "This probably has more to do with me than it does anything dangerous. I am the one who told Bellatrix that she cannot have any sort of contact with the kids unless I am there. If he fell to her charms all those years ago, she would have told him that it was out of the question because he was Bast's teacher."

"Then why just up and leave?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was a grand gesture on his part to show her that he is serious about her."

"She obviously told him no or we would have found out these last six years."

"Bellatrix does not share those kinds of things with me,"

"Eliza would have,"

"I don't know… She believes that as a grown woman those things should remain as private as they want. Bellatrix has been walking on eggshells around me for years. I doubt she would want to upset the boat, especially that one Sunday we made such a huge deal out of Winkler's disappearance. Remember how quiet she was?"

"Good. Then you go talk to her,"

"Harry! If she doesn't want to tell then it is none of our business."

"You of all people think this isn't any of your business? If something shady is going on we need to know about it!"

"Fine, I will floo over now. Happy?"

"Deliriously…" Harry deadpanned.

Hermione snatched the love note Harry's owl intercepted en route to Bellatrix and stuffed it into her robe pocket before taking a pinch of floo powder and speaking clearly the address of her childhood home.

She stepped out of the grate and brushed off her clothes before following the laughing voices to the dining room where she found the oddest scene imaginable.

Eliza was sitting on the lap of some wizard who had wrapped her hand around the wooden handle of his wand and was attempting to show her how to transfigure a teaspoon into a crup. Winkler was across the table caressing the side of Bellatrix's face as she moaned into the very thorough snogging they were engaged in. The table was littered with empty alcohol bottles and dessert had been pushed, forgotten, out of the way. None of the occupants were even remotely sober.

Hermione coughed in shock, turning away to go home, intent on talking to Bellatrix some other time.

"Hermione?" Bellatrix's surprised soprano floated over the scene, popping the idyllic bubble as surely as if she popped it with a pin. Hermione winced. She was the intruder here. "What are you doing here?"

"Harry and I had some questions about Winkler,"

"What about Cyprus?"

"We wanted to know why he left his teaching post without saying anything,"

"Now hold on there!" Winkler said, slurring his words. "I had told Minnie from the get-go that I wasn't staying the whole year. I warned her before that term ever started. I knew Your son was going to attend and Bella had always been firm that we were separate from the family. That I wouldn't mettle in her affairs. Bella and I have been seeing each other for ten years at least! I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize what we have!"

Hermione blinked owlishly, stunned at hearing this news. "I think I may have done you a disservice Bella," Hermione whispered, feeling guilty. "You should bring your companion to Sunday Dinner. You should not have to keep him separate from us. We are your family."

Bellatrix lit up as if Christmas had come early but tried very hard to keep her voice even. A difficult thing while drunk off her arse. "And I didn't want to jeopardize what we had," pointing between herself and Hermione.

Hermione smiled and excused herself, extending the invitation to the wizard holding her mother too. This was something that she never in a million years expected to walk in on. Things were about to change for Sunday dinners. And that wasn't always a bad thing.

Hermione quickly flooed home to the tinkling sound of a whiskey tumbler being set on the marble side table next to the large chair in which Abraxas had been sitting, clearly waiting for her to come home.

"What did Harry want this time? A kidney?" he snickered to himself, enjoying his joke.

"We found Winkler,"

"Oh? Where?"

"Snogging Bellatrix. Apparently, he had given his notice to Minerva that year. He said that he and Bella had been together for years and at the time, she had told him that if he continued to teach Bast she would leave him!" Hermione sighed remembering how ridiculously long it took them to figure out that Minerva was in the beginning stages of dementia. They should have realized that this is probably what happened sooner.

Abraxas chuckled and waved her over, moaning with pleasure as she settled herself on his lap. He pulled her closer and buried his nose in her hair. He loved these quiet moments, just him and her together. Hermione leaned back and studied how the fire danced around the logs burning in the grate.

They stayed like that for hours, just enjoying each other's company, neither one willing to break the comfortable silence.

**HGHG**

Lucius leaned against the door frame as he waited just outside of Hermione's bathroom, smiling as he listened to her singing slightly off-key to the newest boy band song that had been playing on the muggle radio she insisted on listening to in the kitchen.

Today he was going to surprise her as he was wont to do.

Absently, he fiddled with the book in his pocket. It was a recent acquisition, a little manual that he had been hunting ever since Hermione raised them back from the dead.

My Loves, My Life: A Memoir by Cecily Shaklebolt

The small book was the only one of its kind. A female's point of view of the same spell which brought him back to the land of the living.

Hermione opened the bathroom door and screamed in surprise clutching the towel over her heart. "Oh Lucius, I didn't see you there. You scared the hell out of me,"

Smirking, he folded his arms across his chest, slowly raising one of his brows. "I have something for you,"

"Oh?" she murmured as she moved into her room, letting the towel fall from around her body, using the cloth to squeeze the water out of her hair. His hungry gaze raked over her form, admiring just how fit she had stayed after her pregnancy's. Of course, hers was no longer the tight body of a girl, but the curviness of a woman whose body carried his children. Even with the stretch marks and the slight pouch of her abdomen, she was still gloriously beautiful in his eyes.

He felt himself responding to her. Wanting her. His smile grew as he walked up behind her and pulled her naked, wet body into his arms.

"Lucius!" Hermione protested with a laugh, letting her towel fall to the ground. Lucius buried his face in her neck, leaving behind a trail of sucking kisses and letting his stubble rasp over her tender flesh. "Our family will be arriving soon,"

"Let them wait," he murmured against her skin. Skimming one of his hands up her body, he gently cupped one of her breasts, rolling the already hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Hermione leaned her head back against his chest, baring her neck to his attentions. She moaned wantonly. After all of these years, he was still able to make her a puddle on the ground.

Caressing the skin of her stomach, his other hand slid down over her mons, fingers lightly tracing the outline of her nether lips, not quite giving enough pressure to be satisfying. And yet he continued his sucking, his pulling. Hermione raised her hands and reached back for him, tangling her fingers in his long blond hair.

"Lucius," she begged breathlessly. She could feel his mouth curl into a smirk against her throat. Tugging her backward, Lucius molded her body to his, thrusting the evidence of his desire against her lower back.

Finally, his fingers delved between her glistening folds and he found her sensitive nub. Clever fast fingertips circled her clit, his pace finally matching her need.

He began walking them forward until her thighs met the edge of the mattress. Hermione arched back into him, rubbing her bum against his erection. He released a breathy chuckle, "So insatiable,"

"Yes," Hermione praised. Her mind was so far gone, only the feeling of the way he expertly strummed her body, dragging her over the edge, pushing her to greater heights remained.

Colors burst behind her eyelids as she careened off the precipice, shattering in his arms. He pulled his hands away and turned her, hugging her naked body close, cupping her jaw, and tilting it just so. Lips met smirking lips as he leaned in to take a taste.

A sample willingly given.

She kissed him back with abandon, caressing his invading tongue with her own. Reaching between their bodies, Hermione pushed his robes out of the way, fingers deftly undoing his belt. The belt buckle's weight pulled his trousers to the floor and he stepped out of them, shrugging off his own robes. They fell to the floor with a thump, but it was ignored for the moment as Lucius and Hermione let themselves continue to be distracted by each other.

Hermione ran her hands over the planes and valleys of his body, admiring the thick sinuous muscles. And he was all hers.

She looked up at him from under her lashes, letting her own smirk grow. Appreciation gleaming from their expressive depths.

"You are so beautiful," Hermione murmured appreciatively. His smile grew predatory. His hands glided over her back, over her bum, to the backs of her thighs. In one swift movement, he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. Hermione shrieked and laughed as he crawled over to her. He took her hands in his larger ones and held them down to the bed, leaning in for another sweet kiss.

Hermione wrapped her legs around his hips, helping him line up their bodies so that they could finally be connected.

They both groaned as he slowly pushed into her wet quim.

His pace was agonizingly slow, but she met him thrust for thrust, staring into his needy eyes. He was unguarded, letting her see the depth of his emotion for her, the depth of his love.

Lucius let his eyes slide closed as he shook with the force of his release, resting his forehead against hers, his panting breath caressing her cheek.

He pulled out of her and rolled until he was laying next to her, spent, with a stupid satisfied smile on his face.

Hermione rolled to her side, tracing his chest with her fingers. "So, what do you have for me?"

"A book," Lucius said tiredly, gesturing to his discarded robes. "help yourself."

Hermione climbed over him to rifle through his pockets and sat on her haunches as she pulled the slim tome from the pile of robes on the floor.

"My Love, My life?" Hermione read. Cracking open the book she quickly scanned the first few pages. Her breath caught as it finally sunk in what she was looking at. "Oh, Lucius,"

He smiled as he watched her completely forget everything to begin devouring the rare account. "The family is probably here,"

"They can wait," Hermione echoed his earlier claim.

Lucius chuckled and reached out for a lock of her wild curls as she leaned against the bed to read. He murmured, "You aren't the only one,"

"I never thought I was," She sniffed, rolling her eyes.

**HGHG**

Draco took another sip of whiskey as Winkler threaded his fingers through Aunt Bella's. He had to admit that the wizard was a step up from her previous husband, but it was something that he really just didn't care to see. He wondered, and not for the first time, where Hermione was. She was never late on Sundays.

Lucius strode into the room, making his way directly to the dry bar, more relaxed than he had any right to have been. Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Lucius poured three fingers of whiskey into a tumbler and made his way across the room to stand next to him.

"Hideous isn't it," Lucius whispered to him gesturing with his eyes the couple on the settee. "Such public display…"

"And where have you been?" Draco asked tightly, taking another sip.

"I was giving Hermione a gift," Lucius said as a grand smile transformed his face.

"Master?" Gilkey the house elf appeared at Draco's elbow and gave a small half-bow.

"Yes, Gilkey?"

"Mistress asked me to tell you that she needs to see you in the library."

"Thank you, Gilkey," Draco muttered. The elf bowed again and left.

Draco set his glass on the tray and made his excuses, walking quickly to the library.

"Everything okay?" he asked as he pushed through the closed double doors.

Hermione was there, on the table next to the fireplace, wearing nothing but a smile, a small thin book inches from her splayed fingers.

"What is this? Not that I am complaining," Draco said as he pulled the library doors shut and locked them, laying a few more privacy wards on top of that. "You usually don't miss Sunday with Bella and Eliza, especially for this. Although," he paused letting his robes fall to the floor and he started undoing the long row of buttons.

"Lucius gave me a new book,"

"Yeah?" his shirt was off and tossed in the general direction of his robes as he walked closer to the table.

"Did you know that just because spell brought a dead house back to life doesn't mean that the bound individuals will experience love. There is no guarantee of happiness. It is merely to ensure the continuation of a deadline."

"That is… interesting," he said as his trousers hit the floor.

"I already knew how lucky I was when you walked back into my life, but this just puts things into proper perspective." She tapped the cover of the memoir. "I don't tell you all enough. I don't show you enough how much I love you. How much I cherish you. You are a brilliant father and an even better husband. And I couldn't bare wasting another minute before telling you. Showing you."

He stood in front of her just as naked as she and he stepped between her thighs, that she had parted for him. Reaching out for her, his finger traced the outline of her generous lips and continued moving forward until their bodies met.

"You had me a lot earlier than when you pulled me out of my death. Dying for you was the best decision of my entire existence and there is not one day that goes by that I don't thank the deities for letting me have a second chance with you."

"Draco," She murmured as tears gathered on her lashes. She cupped his face and ran her thumbs over his cheeks, studying his face. He was as familiar to her as her own reflection. "Thank you for loving me,"

"Thanking me for loving you is like thanking me for having blond hair. It just is," He rolled his eyes, pleased that she called for him, pleased over her words. Happy. He was just happy.

He laid his hands on her hips and pulled her to the edge of the table. Hermione gasped at the sudden movement. Slowly, he kneeled, keeping his steely gaze locked on hers. His tongue flicked out of his mouth, tasting her center.

Hermione laid her palms on the table and arched her back, throwing her head back in bliss. His tongue circled her clit, dipped into her waiting heat. His arms circled her thighs and he pulled her closer to his worshiping mouth.

She panted as the tight coil of tension wound ever tighter in her belly. She went stiff, struggling to breathe, struggling not to cream all over his face after only a handful of skillful licks.

"Let go," Draco muttered, humor lacing his voice.

Hermione shook her head. Refusing.

Draco chuckled and took the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips and sucked, forcing her over the edge.

"Ahhh," she gasped as her orgasm crashing over her in waves. Her body shuddered and clenched and Draco rose, taking himself in hand, and guiding himself into her still clenching heat.

Juices coated his cock and he admired their joined bodies. Biting his bottom lip, he snapped his hips, hitting her in the precise way she liked. Stroking that spot within her body that set her on fire. Every. Fucking. Time.

The table screeched as it inched across the floor, moving with each thrust, rocking rhythmically in between.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, nibbling on his shoulder, pulling him closer. She licked her way up the straining tendons of his neck, wrapping her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Just like that," she whispered in his ear.

Draco's eyes rolled back and closed, moaning.

"I love the way you move inside me," she continued, knowing he had a fondness for dirty talk. "how thick you are. The way you know exactly how to make me come for you. I need you."

Draco's thrusts grew erratic and she could feel him swelling inside her, getting closer and closer to orgasm.

"Come for me," Hermione whispered as she gently bit his shoulder.

"Fuck," he choked out, stilling as he pumped his seed into her.

She wrapped his hair around her fingers, ran her nails against his scalp, murmured her love and devotion into his ear as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I love that book," he panted. Hermione chuckled continuing to drop kisses on his sweating body as his hands caressed the lines of her body.

**HGHG**

When Hermione and Draco finally rejoined the family, the got a slew of knowing looks from the adults and little more than recognition from the frolicking children. She couldn't help the blush that colored her cheeks. Yes, she was a married adult with a healthy intimate life, but it was quite another thing for everyone to know what she had been doing for the last hour they sat and waited for her.

"Sorry to keep you all waiting," Hermione mumbled, embarrassed.

"Not at all," Eliza snorted. "We were just filling in the rest of the family about our guests and why they have come today, on family day.

"And what a thrilling tale it was," Snape said sarcastically from the wingback chair on the opposite side of the room. Lucius smirked and hid it behind his whiskey.

Bella looked down uncertainly at her hands, obviously waiting for the censure. But it never came.

Abraxas immediately pulled Winkler into a conversation, talking about the merits of teaching a unit of mild dark arts in seventh year Defense classes. It was usually a heavily charged argument, but it happened to be an opinion that everyone in the room shared. How could you defend against something you were forbidden to learn? Snape opinioned that it was like showing sixth years how to brew Amortentia and much, much less dangerous. Amortentia in the hands of hormone-riddled teens was an experiment in madness. No one could disagree with that.

Bella was desperately trying to hide her emotions and choke back the tears that threatened to spill. She had found someone to spend the rest of her life with, a good man, and her family brought him into the fold as if he had every right to be there. She looked up at Hermione's smile as she followed the conversation and knew forgiveness was the greatest, most selfless gift in the world.

**HGHG**

That night, after everyone left and the children were all in bed, Sigurd came bearing a gift. Hermione had wondered why he hadn't unveiled a painting as he did every Sunday but as he lifted the silk away, she knew why.

The Hermione in the painting looked beguiling, seductive, as she beckoned to her lover.

It was the most erotic thing she had ever seen.

Glancing up at Sigurd, she saw the evidence of his need in the lines of his taunt face. And she studied him, admiring how after all these years, he kept to his Scandinavian roots, keeping his hair braided in the style of the warriors of his people. His short beard was groomed meticulously, his robes tailored close to show off his cut form.

He was the seductive one.

Gently, he laid the painting against the wall to finish drying and pulled Hermione into his arms. He took her willing kiss, demanding more. More access. More passion. More everything. And she gave it. Taking just as much as she gave.

Hermione would never get tired of being in the arms of the Malfoy men.