Authors Note: This chapter is definitely rated R or N as in the new ratings system. If you're underage, please don't read it, you have been warned! As always thanks go to my wonderful beta for editing and providing constructive criticism, as well as you, my reviewers. There are only a few more chapters to go of this story; you'll be pleased to hear.
Chapter Thirteen
With gentle hands, Hermione lifted the tiny form of the sleeping baby out of the wooden cradle and placed her on her lap. Beside her, Aurora stared down at the small form, eyes wide with interest.
"Do you like her, Aurora?" Ginny asked from her reclining position in the bed beside the cradle.
"She's so little, why?" came the hesitant response as Aurora stared at the baby.
"She'll get bigger; everyone is little at first," Hermione smiled, gazing down into the face of the tiny child in her arms. Then turning to Ginny, she asked, "Have St. Selistina's given you the all clear yet?"
St. Selistina's was the best wizarding gynaecological organisation throughout Europe and she knew from both professional and personal experience that their reputation in this field was well-deserved.
Ginny grimaced. "Melissa, the healer whose been looking after me, visited this morning and said that everything seemed fine. You know that lot; they'll keep visiting until I'm sick of the sight of them."
"Well, it's always best to be cautious in these matters. Have they any idea what triggered your labour?" Hermione cuddled the five-week premature baby closer to her as she spoke, seating herself on the end of Ginny's bed.
She looked down into the baby's face and smiled. It was difficult to see who the child resembled; her features were so small. The hair on her head though, was straight and dark like Harry's.
"Nope, just one of those things. Merlin though, I'll never forget the feeling of panic when the pains set in. Ah well, we've both come out of it okay, so I'm not worrying. Melissa said that she was coming along nicely; her birth weight has gone up by a pound already. The strengthening potions she has to take are really doing their stuff."
"I'm sure they are. If she'd been born in the Muggle world, she would have gone into an incubator until her birth weight had gone up. It's times like this that I'm thankful for magic." Hermione stroked a finger over the baby's velvety cheek as she spoke and Ginny nodded fervently.
"That's what Harry said as well. It's not uncommon though for a baby to be born prematurely as you know. Muggles are probably not as well-equipped as us to deal with such things."
Aurora moved closer, eyes still riveted on the sleeping child. "When will she wake up?" she asked, stretching out a tentative hand and touching the dark hair.
"Whenever she gets hungry," Ginny smiled. "Then you'll be able to see her cry; she has a very loud voice you know."
Hermione gazed into the face of the infant and felt an unexplainable yearning take hold of her. This feeling had gripped her from the first moment that she had set eyes on the newborn four days ago. "So, decided on a name yet?" she asked in an effort to stop herself dwelling on feelings she could not explain.
"Yes, Rose. Harry likes it; apparently it was his maternal grandmother's name. I don't mind. A lot of these old wizarding names are a real mouthful and it'll be nice to have something simple and straightforward for a change."
"And her middle name?" Aurora chipped in with interest.
Ginny shrugged. "We haven't decided yet. Anyway, enough about me, how are you, Aurora? It feels like ages since I last saw you."
"I'm okay," the child replied absently. "Mummy, can I pick her up?"
"No, darling, not today. She's still too little yet. When she's a bit bigger then you can, is that okay?" Hermione bit her lip at the disappointed look that crossed her daughter's face, knowing how excited she had been to see the baby.
"We have to be careful with her because she's so small," Ginny said, also wincing at the look of disappointment Aurora wore. "When she's grown a bit, then you can hold her as much as you like. Now come here and give me a cuddle!"
The child scowled but went across to a still pale Ginny who hugged her tightly before handing her a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "There you go. You'd better finish them off before Uncle Harry gets back, or he'll eat them all."
Grinning now, Aurora settled herself on the bed and opened the box of sweets.
Turning to Hermione, Ginny said, "That healer said that I have to stay in bed another three days. I'm already bored out of my skull." Then, her eyes raking over the other woman curiously, she asked, "And you? How's married life suiting you?"
"Oh, okay I suppose. Things have been easier since Narcissa left for the States though; no more speculative glances over the breakfast table. You know, she even questioned the house-elves about our sleeping arrangements. Talk about interfering."
"Oh dear, and there's me thinking you were missing her!" Ginny laughed brightly, eyes shining.
"About as much as a hole in the head," Hermione grimaced, glancing at Aurora, who was concentrating on swallowing a particularly nasty tasting bean and not paying them any attention. "Don't get me wrong, she wasn't horrible or anything, just very nosy." She thought back to that embarrassing conversation she and the older woman had had regarding her and Draco's sleeping habits, and even now, three weeks later, cringed inwardly at the memory.
"Well, she wants the best for her son. It's understandable that she's anxious," the redhead smiled wickedly.
"There's being anxious, and downright meddling. She even offered to have Aurora sleep with her, so that we could have some time alone together." Hermione shuddered at the recollection.
Ginny chuckled, then sighed wistfully. "Personally, I don't see why you're so determined not to let him anywhere near you. Yeah, okay, he's a conniving git, but even you have to admit he's easy on the eyes, Hermione. That silky blond hair just begs for a woman to run her fingers through it, and as for his body… it's all sinewy muscle! If I were you, I'd shag him rotten, and when you get tired of him, divorce him. As you said before, Madam over there will have his name and that's what matters. If you can have a bit of fun along the way, why not? I would if I were free!"
"Ginny! You really are the limit! What would Harry say if he heard you?" Hermione laughed, glancing again at Aurora, who was foraging in the box for more oddly coloured beans.
The redhead shrugged and grinned broadly. "He'd have me admitted to St Mungo's quicker than you can blink, but he's a bloke; he wouldn't understand. Hell, even Mum thinks Malfoy's good–looking, but she'd cut her right arm off before she'd admit it."
"She was all for us marrying and gave me a good talking to about it," Hermione remembered with a smile.
"Well, let's put it this way," Ginny stated, leaning back against her pillows. "Malfoy's not the type to go without sleeping with a woman for long, so if you don't do the honours, you can bet your last knut that some other woman will and do you really want him cheating on you like that? Imagine the gossip, if nothing else."
Hermione breathed in and out very slowly to give herself time to think. This thought had been hovering at the edge of her own consciousness for awhile now, whatever she might say to the contrary. "We agreed before the wedding took placed that it would be a marriage in name only," she replied in what she hoped was a calm voice. "Any liaisons that either of us decided to have would be kept discrete."
"I know that but the scandal would be incredible if anyone found out, as you well know," her friend responded dryly. "Anyway," her eyes narrowed in speculation as she watched Hermione with the baby, "by the look on your face, I'd say you're getting a bit broody. Now he could help you with that particular problem."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Hermione replied, not looking up. She felt the colour creeping into her face, and wondered if Ginny was right. Was she becoming broody? She couldn't see why she would, but when had emotion ever listened to reason?
"Oh, come now, Hermione. I've known you for long enough, you've visited me twice a day since Rose was born and can never put her down. That's the mark of a brooding woman if you ask me."
"Your mother and your sisters-in-laws can't put her down either, would you say they're broody as well?" Hermione retorted, breathing in the baby's clean scent and trying to clamp down on the feeling of longing that was threatening to engulf her.
Ginny wrinkled her brow in thought. "No, not all of them, but Fleur was looking a bit wistful yesterday as well. It's a certain look that comes into a woman's eyes; you only notice it when you become a mother."
"You have become wise in the last four days! You should write a book on the subject." Hermione stood up. "Anyway, I have a baby of my own, thank you very much. I don't need another one."
At this, Ginny let out a snort of laughter. "Aurora really wouldn't appreciate you calling her a baby, now would you, darling?"
Aurora swallowed her bean, grimaced and looked up. "I'm not a baby! I'm big for one thing and babies are tiny." She nodded at Rose to emphasise her point.
Hermione smiled ruefully, hoping the child had bot been paying any attention to their conversation. "No, but you'll always be my baby whether you like it or not."
"Well I'm not a baby! I'm going to be five next month! People who're five aren't babies!"
"My point exactly," agreed Ginny. "A five-year-old is one thing, but having a little newborn who is dependent on you for everything is completely different. For a start, they can't run away when you want to give them a cuddle and when they smile at you…" She sighed in contentment.
"Rose hasn't smiled at you yet; she's far too young! Anyway, all that nappy changing and those night-time feeds, no thanks." Hermione shook her head, but the other woman only laughed.
"Deny it all you want, but it's as plain as day; you're broody, and the only remedy for that is to have a little one of your own."
A slight movement made Hermione look down to see that the baby had woken up and was looking at her through large green eyes. "Ah, bless, she cooed. "As I said yesterday, she definitely scowls like Harry, it's so sweet!"
"Yep, let's just hope that she's inherited my brains though. That's one department my dear husband is lacking in," the new mother stated with a mock-serious frown which made Hermione laugh.
Aurora jumped off the bed and came over to her mother and the baby. "Why is her mouth open like that?" she asked, studying the small face screwed up in apparent anger.
"She's hungry," Ginny replied. Then to Hermione she added, "It's been a while since her last feed. The healer said to feed her whenever she wanted and not to start a feeding pattern until she was older."
"What will she eat? She hasn't got any teeth," Aurora commented.
"She'll drink milk. That's all babies can have when they're very small." Ginny held out her arms for the whimpering infant and reluctantly, Hermione handed her over.
She watched as Ginny removed the light shawl covering the tiny form and sighed in nostalgia. "We'd better go and let you rest. Have you got everything you need?"
"Yep. I'll get Dinga to get anything I can't summon, so stop worrying."
Dinga was the Potters' new house–elf, and Hermione knew the tiny creature was more than capable of looking after Ginny and a baby when Harry was out of the house. The elf had been selected by Molly Weasley herself, so how could it not?
"Mummy, can we have a baby as well?" Aurora suddenly piped up, her eyes on Rose, who was crying heartily now, mouth wide open and fists flailing in temper.
"Why?" Hermione asked, turning to her in surprise.
"They're quite nice and you can hold them. Anyway, I'll be its big sister then and can tell it what to do."
"Your Mummy says that babies are hard work," Ginny smirked, unbuttoning her nightdress.
"No, they're not; all they do is sleep," Aurora protested, turning to a flustered Hermione. "Mummy, if we had a baby, it could sleep in my woom with Tiger. Then it wouldn't disturb you, and me and Tiger could look after it."
"No, Aurora," Hermione replied, a leaden feeling she could not explain taking root inside her.
"But why not? If I asked Daddy he'd say yes," the child argued, eyes glittering with determination.
"Well you're not going to ask Daddy, so it's not a problem," Hermione stated sternly while Ginny grinned. "Now come on, we need to let Auntie Ginny and the baby rest."
"Like hell she's not," the redhead mouthed, but Hermione pretended not to notice.
"Just remember, no getting out of bed until the Healer tells you, okay?" she said, giving Ginny a glare, which the other woman ignored.
"Stop worrying about me and start thinking of yourself," Ginny advised, putting the baby to her breast. "Bye, darling." She waved at Aurora, who smiled in return.
Their goodbyes said, Hermione and Aurora Flooed back to Malfoy Manor, each preoccupied with their own thoughts.
XoXoXoXo
The dining room of the large exclusive Surrey hotel echoed with chatter and laughter as the diners tucked into the third course of the evening. It was the Annual Pathon and Francis dinner hosted by the Ministry of Magic, and everyone of any note in the wizarding world had been invited to the gathering.
Six long tables were packed with witches and wizards conversing amicably as they ate their way through the excellent food. Many saw this as an opportunity to network and forge new business contacts, and Hermione knew the Ministry relied on this dinner to persuade wealthy witches and wizards to part with gold for Ministry-run schemes and ideas, in return for positions on various committees and so on.
As a major participant in the war, a close friend of Harry Potter, and later the youngest Hanwell's Healer to have a department of her own, she had been to more of these sorts of dinners than she cared to remember, and had it been left to her, she would not have come tonight. She scowled as she rearranged the food on her plate and tried to block out the voices to her right without success. Draco was talking and laughing with a tall, curvaceous woman Hermione did not know, but who seemed to be monopolising all his attention.
She glared at the seat on her other side which was currently empty. The other diners near her were chatting to each other and she was hesitant to enter into their conversations. Suddenly, the empty chair to her left was pulled out, and a bespectacled wizard sat down.
"So sorry I'm late. I've only just finished work," he said, busy arranging his napkin.
Hermione breathed an inward sigh of relief, maybe now she would have someone to talk to at this blasted dinner! She gave him a polite smile.
"Hermione Granger?" he asked, looking at her, and when she nodded, he went on. "You probably won't remember me, but we met when you finished your training at St Mungo's on your Graduation Day, what, over five years ago now? I'm Brandon Clayton; I was head of the faculty of Trainee Healers at the time."
"Of course, how could I have forgotten?" In truth, she only had a vague recollection of this man she'd hardly ever seen other than in the occasional lecture, and when he had presented her with her Healers' Certificate on the day she had become a fully-trained Healer.
Brandon laughed jovially and took a sip of wine. "It's perfectly understandable, my dear. We've not met for all these years after all. That's why I didn't recognise you at first."
"So tell me, how are you? We were sorry to lose you, I can tell you, and right after you'd qualified as well. You were the brightest healer I'd seen in a while now. I trust that Hanwell's is treating you well?" he asked.
Deciding to answer his last question rather than his first, Hermione smiled. "Oh yes, it's a nice place; I really enjoy my job," she said, feeling slightly awkward.
"So tell me, that last article of yours…"
The two were soon chatting about advances in healing potions and various medical techniques that had been introduced in the last few years, and the dinner became more bearable for Hermione. She kept her head turned resolutely away from Draco and the woman with whom he was so shamelessly flirting, and spent the rest of the meal in conversation with Brandon. It was near the end of the meal when Brandon said, "Do you remember Adam Hamilton?"
Hermione felt a slight flush creep onto her cheeks, and took a hasty sip of wine to recover herself. How could she not remember the tall, dark-eyed young man she had dated during her training? Adam had been a year ahead of her in the trainee programme, and like her, had been serious and dedicated to his profession. Their time together had been enjoyable, but then Adam had graduated, and that had been that. She knew that he was in charge of his own ward at St Mungo's now, although she'd not seen him since leaving.
"Yes, of course, how is he?" she asked with interest, wincing as Draco's companion giggled at a joke he had just told.
"You can find out for yourself in a moment; he's here tonight," Brandon smiled. "I don't know if you know, but he was recently commended on his study of children with Cramp Limb Disease by the journal of mediwizardry, and plans to do some further research into the field. He's really got a way with children, and shortly should be a leading Paediatric healer."
Soon the dinner was over and the guests were moving through to the large hotel lounge for coffee and to mingle. Hermione knew this was the opportunity that business people like Draco had been waiting for, and sure enough, as they rose from the table, he touched her elbow, lightly saying, "Will you be okay for a bit? There're a few people I'd like a quick word with..."
She nodded, surprised that he had bothered to ask, and watched him disappear into the crowd with mixed feelings, while wondering if one of the people with whom he wanted to 'network' was his exotic dinner companion. She was relieved that the speeches had been made before dinner as she followed Brandon into the well-lit room and over to where a few figures stood talking by one of the long windows facing the neatly laid out gardens.
"Adam! I've a surprise for you," Brandon said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder as they joined the small group.
Adam Hamilton broke off what he was saying and turned, eyes widening as they fell on Hermione, who stood beside Brandon looking wary.
"Hermione Granger? Is it really you?" he asked, staring at her, eyes moving from her neatly-pinned hair, over the simple sapphire necklace and earrings, down the strapless blue sheath dress that hugged her figure, and to her matching high-heeled sandals.
Smiling broadly, Hermione stepped forward and held out her hand. "Adam, it's wonderful to see you after so long."
His face too, broke into a smile, and she felt heat suffuse her cheeks. He was tall and slim, possessing a live grace to match Draco's own. His eyes and hair were dark, and she noticed that there were a few more lines around his mouth that hadn't been there when they'd last met.
"This is an unexpected pleasure," he grinned, taking her arm. "Can I get you coffee?"
She shook her head. "That meal was so filling; I couldn't eat or drink another thing."
"I must admit I was surprised at how lavish it was," Adam agreed. "But Hermione, how are you? So much has happened to both of us since we last met."
"Yes, it's scary how time seems to speed up the older you get," she agreed, noticing that Brandon and the group of people with whom Adam had been conversing were moving away.
"We can't really talk here," he said, glancing around them. Groups of people were standing about and conversing in loud voices. The elf-made wine had loosened tongues, and the noise level in the large room was rising as people made the best of the opportunity to socialise and forge contacts. She couldn't see Draco anywhere and squashed the suspicion that he was probably with some woman. Let him do what he liked; she couldn't care less.
"Come, it'll be quieter in the conservatory," Adam continued, moving away from the window.
"I wasn't aware there was a conservatory here," she said, following him out onto the terrace and around the side of the building. Soon they had come to another door, and he pushed it open. The room into which they stepped had a glass roof, and plants of all varieties were housed in large urns and pots. Cane sofas and chairs were dotted about the room, and she saw that a few other people had also taken refuge there too. Adam led the way over to a sofa hidden behind a large potted plant, and they sat down.
"So tell me about yourself, Hermione. What have you been doing these past few years?" he asked, leaning back and observing her with interest.
"Oh, all sorts. When I first started at Hanwell's, I had to work in all the departments and a few months later, settled into the department of Surgical Magic. I had to take a course in Muggle surgical techniques, and after that, began to combine them with wizarding techniques. It was hard at first, the hours were horrendous, sometimes I was dead on my feet, but it was worth every minute. I also did research when I could find the time, and a few months ago, was made Head of Department. Hanwell's is quite different to St Mungo's; not so much bureaucracy and stuffiness. If you have talent, they'll develop it." She smiled proudly.
"Oh, they're quite modern. They'd have to be to be the first hospital to openly integrate magical and Muggle medicine. It's a shame that my own interest lies in paediatrics, or I would have transferred as you did."
They chatted for some time about their respective careers, and Hermione began to relax and unwind in his undemanding company. It was nice to talk to someone who understood her profession, but was not a colleague and with whom she was therefore not expected to discuss actual cases. She remembered their old easy relationship and a part of her was sorry that she and Adam had agreed to go their separate ways as they had.
As though he was reading her thoughts, he sighed. "I've often thought about you, you know. Every time I came across your name in some journal I wondered how you were getting on. I still can't believe that you were married and have a child. I mean, when did you find the time amongst all that training Hanwell's was making you do? Then there was the war!"
"Oh, you can find time for anything when you need to," she shrugged. "As for my daughter, she's almost five now. After my husband died, my parents and friends helped me look after her, and work helped me to forget." She always felt uncomfortable talking about her fictitious marriage, and would liked to have changed the subject but Adam was going on.
"I hope you don't mind me asking, but why did you marry Malfoy?" he asked, turning to face her in the dim room. "From what I can recall, you never really got on during your Hogwarts days, so it was a surprise to everyone when it was announced in the Prophet."
"Oh, lots of reasons," she smiled mirthlessly. "We've known one another since the age of eleven, and when we met again, we found that we'd both grown up. Also, he didn't mind that I had a child and they took to each other." She hoped this explanation didn't sound as flat to him as it did to her.
"I'm happy for you, Hermione," he said with a smile. "If anyone deserves happiness, it's you. You know, I hope we can keep in touch; I'd like to be friends if that's okay. You're one of the most forward thinking of our kind I know, and it would be lovely to meet up sometimes to chat and bounce ideas off each other."
She smiled. "I don't see why not. To be honest, it was nice talking shop with someone not from my own hospital for a change. It gives you a different insight into things."
"You're telling me. I had been in two minds about this dinner, but Brandon persuaded me to come as I'd been invited, and now I'm glad I did."
"I had no intention of coming this evening at all, but Draco insisted it was an excellent networking and business opportunity. He was adamant he couldn't come alone and as we had each been sent separate invites, I agreed." She tailed off as bile rose in her throat. She wondered where Draco was now, but more especially, with whom.
In a spontaneous movement, Adam gave her a quick hug. Hermione caught off guard by this action, stiffened and then relaxed, and returned his friendly hug. Why shouldn't she hug him? She was doing nothing she shouldn't be after all, and even if she was, it was no one's business but her own. She leaned against him, content to rest her head on his shoulder, and now glad that she had come even though she had been forced to watch Draco make a spectacle of himself.
"So how about you?" she asked, looking up at him. "Married yet?"
He laughed. "Not yet, but I hope to be soon. She's a Muggle, and we met a year or so ago now. She does know about the wizarding world, but for obvious reasons I couldn't bring her tonight. Anyway, she's still very nervous around magical folk, so I'm hesitant to pop the question just yet."
"I hope all goes well for you both," she smiled. "The poor girl must have been pretty surprised when you told her you were a wizard."
"You bet. It really unnerved her at first. I thought she'd want nothing to do with me after I told her, but we're still together."
"If you care for someone, then you can overcome such a barrier. It'll just take her a bit of time to get used to it, that's all."
"I suppose," he sighed, one arm still around her shoulders, his expression thoughtful. "Hermione, tell me to get lost if you think I'm presuming, but could you meet her maybe? I'm sure Suzy would like you, and as you too come from a Muggle background, it may be easier for her to talk to you about such things than me. After all, you have more in common with her than I do, and there's no one else I know who has such an understanding of the Muggle world."
She nodded, understanding the situation only too well. By the sound of it, Adam's fiancée was still mistrustful of the wizarding world, and maybe she could help her adjust. Adam, having been brought up in the wizarding world, would not be able to empathise as she could.
"Of course. I remember when I first got my Hogwarts letter, I thought I was going mad. Even now my parents aren't entirely comfortable with me doing magic in front of them. It must be one heck of a shock to find out that your boyfriend is a wizard; a lot of people would have turned and run."
"Oh believe me, for awhile I thought she would, but luckily, it didn't come to that. She's just nervous, and meeting my family doesn't seem to have helped much."
The door of the conservatory opened behind them, but neither looked up, too engrossed in their own conversation.
"How about lunch some time during the week? We can take things from there. I think a Muggle restaurant would be best. No magical folk to upset things if you see what I mean," she said, smiling. "Owl me and we'll arrange a time."
Cool fingers wrapped themselves around Hermione's upper arm in a vice-like grip, and she yelped in shock, turning to face her captor. Draco stood looking down at her, his expression cold as he looked from one surprised face to the other.
"I've been looking for you everywhere," he clipped out, pulling her roughly to her feet. "It's getting late and high time we left." He glared from her to Adam as he spoke, and the other man too, got up.
Hermione swallowed nervously. It didn't take a genius to guess that Draco was in a towering rage, but she couldn't understand why. Maybe his networking hadn't gone as planned, or his dinner companion had disappeared, but whatever the reason, he was like a bomb which may explode at any second.
She decided that the best thing to do was get him away from there. His expression suggested that he was capable of murder and it was better all around if he let loose in the privacy of Malfoy Manor rather than here where everyone who was anyone in the wizarding world would be witness to it.
"Of course," she agreed, trying not to wince as his fingers bit into her arm. "Adam, if you'll excuse us."
Adam was staring at Draco, brow creased in perplexity. Clearly he too had scented danger, for he was moving towards the door of the conservatory as he said, "Yes of course. It was lovely meeting you, Hermione. I'll owl you about lunch."
At this, Draco let out a muttered oath, and releasing Hermione's arm, wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulders so that their bodies were pressed together in a parody of an embrace. "Come on," he snarled, pulling her towards the hotel's Apparition chamber as though she were an errant child.
"Draco, stop this at once," she hissed angrily, trying but failing to pull free of his imprisoning arm. "What's wrong with you?"
He ignored her but carried on moving, pulling her easily with him.
"I demand you release me, this instant!" she glowered, but to no effect.
"Then you can demand to your heart's content, my dear, but it won't make any difference," came the curt response.
They had reached the small and mercifully empty cloak room which doubled as an Apparition chamber, and he pulled her inside. "Now, I trust you'll Apparate straight home?" he asked, snatching up her silk shawl from a peg and throwing it over her shoulders.
She had half a mind to deliver a sarcastic retort, but one look at his set face stopped her. She nodded, and without saying another word, Disapparated to appear a moment later in Malfoy Manor.
She moved from the Apparition chamber into the hall, and a second later, Draco was behind her. Wordlessly, they mounted the stairs to Aurora's room. Both were silent as they kissed the sleeping child good night, and with a curt nod, Draco dismissed the house-elf who had been sitting by the head of the bed. They turned and left the dimly lit room, Draco's eyes boring into Hermione's back as she made her way to her own room.
Unsurprisingly, he followed her into the room, the lamps of which lit up as she pushed open the door. She crossed to the dressing table, and kicking off her sandals, dropped her silk wrap onto the stool.
"Who is he?" he barked out, glaring at her as she began to remove her jewellery.
"Who is who?" she asked, taken aback at the glare that was being directed at her while wondering who he was talking about, one of his business associates maybe.
"Him! That jumped up upstart you were curled up with in the conservatory. Who is he?"
Her expression hardened as she realised that he was referring to adam. She felt indignant colour stain her cheeks, and glared at Draco. "Don't call him that, and anyway, why do you want to know?"
"Answer my question," he flung back. "Who is he?"
She hesitated, and then shrugged. What did it matter if he knew? "He's someone I used to know during my training at St Mungo's. We met tonight purely by chance."
His brows rose until they threatened to disappear into his hairline. "Now that was convenient," he drawled acidly.
"And what do you mean by that?" she was stung into retorting.
"I wonder how many others saw you curled up together like a pair of love birds," he said, eyes narrowed. "Have you no decency?"
Her own temper, which had smouldered in the background since they'd returned, now erupted into life. "Decency?" she snarled. "How dare you of all people talk to me of decency? You don't know the meaning of the word, flirting with that woman like that, and in public as well." She was almost shouting now. "You have the gall to accuse me of being indecent when all I was doing was chatting to an old friend while you… You were flirting and carrying on shamelessly with that woman!"
"I was not carrying on with her; I was merely making polite conversation. If you'd not been sulking because none of your friends were attending the dinner, I wouldn't have had to spend the time talking to her."
She let out a snort which would have made Ron proud. "You were all over her. It was disgusting to watch. What people must have thought…?"
"Before you start pointing fingers, I might remind you that I overheard you and that 'acquaintance' making plans to meet. Even when he saw me, the man carried on as though it were a lunch date with friends that he was inviting you to." His eyes glittered with anger as he bit out the words.
She opened her mouth to explain, but then decided against it. Why should she explain anything to him? Instead she shrugged in what she hoped was a bored manor. "So? It's not as though our marriage is real; we agreed on that. I can't be expected to live like a nun. What goes on between Adam and myself is no business of yours. Now, if you don't mind, I want to go to bed." She waved a hand at the door but he ignored it.
"Anything that affects you is my business," he hissed, advancing on her. She resisted the temptation to back away, but instead raised her chin defiantly.
"No, it's not. My personal life has nothing whatsoever to do with you as well you know, so do us both a favour and stop playing the injured party. It doesn't suit you."
He moved so quickly, she barely had time to gasp. Next moment, his fingers were digging painfully into her shoulders and he was looking down into her face, his expression hard. "You think so? Well, we'll see about that." Then bending his head, he captured her mouth in a fierce and bruising kiss, arms clamping round her like steel bands so that she stumbled against him.
Hermione's eyes widened and she tried to pull away, but to no avail. He was much stronger than she, and her struggles were achieving nothing. Panic was starting to take hold of her as he bent her backwards, his mouth demanding as he parted her lips with his tongue. Then when she thought that the onslaught would never stop, the kiss changed and became gentle and persuasive, catching her off guard so she ceased her struggle to get away.
Pressing her against him, he raised a hand and began to take the pins from her hair, leaving it to fall in thick waves onto her shoulders. Soon, all the pins had been discarded, and he slid his fingers through the silky strands to cup the back of her head, while raising his own so he could look down at her.
"Did he kiss you?" he asked in a hoarse voice, and she shook her head wordlessly, her mind seemingly to have come to a standstill.
"Good." Then bending once more, he resumed the kiss, his lips caressing and teasing hers, making her tingle all over. She groaned inwardly as she felt herself start to respond to his kisses, and was unaware of her arms creeping around him. The man was probably the best kisser she had ever known, his tongue coaxing hers to engage in a passionate dance of which she had not been aware that it was capable. She recognised dimly that there had been one other time when he had kissed her in this way, and that had been on the night of Aurora's conception.
She blinked as the thought slid into her mind, knowing that she should end the kiss here and now if she was to keep her distance. Next moment however, he had nipped lightly at her lower lip and the resolution slid from her daised mind.
"Hermione," he breathed between kisses, and tilting her head back, started kissing and nibbling at her neck and throat. She felt herself sway as her senses leapt to life, and again tried to regain some measure of control over herself, but Draco had found the sensitive spot on her neck about only which he seemed to know, and common sense slid out of her grasp as he latched on to it. She felt his fingers on the back of her dress undoing the fastenings that held it up, and knew that she should stop him, but what he was doing to her felt too good. Her knees hit the back of the bed and she collapsed onto it, knowing dimly that he must have backed her towards it.
Deftly, he pulled the dress down until it exposed her breasts and stomach and she knew that for her at least, the point of no return was near. He pushed her back until she was lying on her back looking up at him and leaned over her, his hair brushing her face.
"Hermione, tell me you don't want this," he said in a husky voice, his mouth less than an inch from hers, while one finger traced the contours of her breasts and stomach in a tantalising caress.
"I….I" she gasped, trying to clear the fog from her brain. Unfortunately, thinking was proving to be very difficult and she blinked up at him, her normally logical brain feeling like cotton wool as she paused, trying to form a coherent thought.
He laughed softly and bent to kiss her again, while sliding his thumb under the satin of her bra and caressing the underside of her breast in light strokes. "Tell me you want me to stop," he said again, lifting his head and staring into her glazed eyes. "Go on, say it. Tell me you want me to stop and I will."
She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but once again, her tongue would not cooperate. The adrenaline induced by their row, coupled with his kisses and caressing fingers seemed to have accelerated her own arousal to the point that thinking and logic had gone out of the window. All she knew was that her body, which had gone so long without knowing the intimacies of love, was now making up for lost time and crying out to be fulfilled.
Her skin seemed to be on fire, and every touch from his skilful fingers was stoking the need within her. She groaned with frustration when, sliding his hands beneath her, he unhooked her bra and pulled it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor, before kissing each nipple fleetingly, and for not nearly long enough.
"Well?" he asked, raising his head and looking at her. He was breathing heavily, but there was a steely glint of determination in his eyes. "Go on, do you want me to carry on, yes or no."
She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the yearning that was coursing through her and think clearly, but it was proving very difficult. She wanted to say no, to stop and send him away; it was the sensible thing to do, and would ensure that her life and sanity remained on an even keel, but her body was having none of it. It had been starved of this kind of affection for too long; she could worry about the consequences afterwards. Anyway, as Ginny had said, she should take what was rightfully hers by law, for if she didn't, some other woman would. The image of the dark-skinned beauty Draco had been flirting with sprang into her mind with surprising clarity, and she scowled.
"Well?" he prompted again, nuzzling the valley between her breasts and making her gasp as his jaw grazed the sensitive skin.
"Yes," she whispered in a hoarse voice, trying to pull him close, but he grasped her wrist and stopped her.
"Yes what, Hermione?" he continued, giving her stomach a quick lick. "Let's be clear about this, do you want me to make love to you?"
She bit her lip in annoyance. "Yes," she said again, voice scratchy. How much confirmation did the man need for Merlin's sake? Wasn't the way she was behaving proof enough?
"Oh no, my dear, that won't do at all, say it. Say that you want me to make love to you." Taking a nipple between finger and thumb, he pinched gently, making her whimper. The git, he knew exactly what he was doing to her and was enjoying watching her squirm.
"Yes," she snapped, the frustration evident in her voice. "What more do you want?"
"Say it. Say that you want me to make love to you. Misunderstandings cost me five years last time; I'm not making that mistake again, so say it!" He gave her nipple another pinch as he spoke.
Damn him, she closed her mouth determinedly. She wasn't that desperate that she needed to beg, thank you very much. A moment later however, when he divested her of her dress and panties and began to caress the tops of her thighs with skilled fingers, she doubted this.
"Fine," she relented as he caressed the sensitised bundle of nerves between her legs before withdrawing his hand. "I want you to make love to me, happy?" The tiny part of her that wasn't consumed with desire and arousal winced at the obvious need that laced her voice.
"Oh yes!" he smirked, pulling her now naked body against his and starting to kiss her deeply. When he had undressed, she had no idea, and didn't care as he kissed and nibbled at one taut nipple, then the other. Sliding up her body, he caught her mouth in a passionate kiss that left nothing to the imagination, and she kissed him back, enjoying the feel of his hard muscular body under her hands as she let them roam over him.
Sliding his hand down her flat stomach, he caressed her inner thighs before slipping a finger into her. He added a second, then a third, and she felt him stretch her in readiness for what was to come while massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs with his thumb. She groaned and felt herself become light-headed as he continued to stimulate her in a way she had forgotten was possible.
Bending, he took a nipple between his teeth, licking and sucking on the sensitive flesh while pinching the other nipple so that she gripped the sheet as pleasure lanced through her. She wasn't sure if she cried out as she came apart. She finally opened her eyes to see him bending over her wearing a satisfied smirk.
"Okay?" he asked, and she nodded, still feeling dazed. He caught her mouth in another heated kiss and moved over her. His gaze holding hers, he entered her slowly. When he was buried fully inside her, he held still, allowing her body to adjust to the intrusion before starting to move within her.
His eyes never left her face as he began to increase his pace, while kissing her and murmuring endearments she couldn't catch. She caught her breath as she wrapped her legs around his waste, urging him deeper, her body once again craving the release that only he seemed to be able to give it with such ease. She felt herself tighten around him and cried out as for the second time that evening, waves of pleasure hit her, and she saw pinpricks of light dancing before her eyes.
Draco's breathing was harsh, and with a grunt, he too went over the edge, convulsing within her until he was spent. Collapsing on her, his muscles relaxed, and he pressed his face into her shoulder. Sliding his arms around her, he turned them so they were lying on their sides facing each other, limbs entangled and bodies still joined. There was silence in the room as they both caught their breath.
Hermione lay back, feeling contented and fulfilled knowing that she had enjoyed every second of their lovemaking. She yawned widely, feeling drowsiness rolling over her and smiled to herself. She felt Draco slide out of her as he pulled the silk sheet over them both and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. Tomorrow she would deal with the aftermath of her impulsiveness, but for now, she felt far too good to even think about it.
"'Night, Hermione," Draco said sleepily before kissing her swollen mouth lingeringly.
"'Night," she responded tiredly, closing her eyes and letting sleep overtake her.
XoXoXoXo
The house was quiet as Hermione went downstairs wondering where Draco and Aurora were. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the hall, and was surprised to see that it was almost 11. She felt well-rested and had taken a longer shower than usual, her mind languid as she tried to think objectively about her actions of the night before. She marvelled again that she had slept until ten AM, something she'd not done since Aurora's birth, and was relieved that it was the weekend. If it had been a weekday, she would have been seriously late for work.
"Mistress?"
Turning, Hermione looked down at the house-elf standing before her smiling.
"Master says that he and Miss Aurora are on the east terrace, and to come out there when you're ready. What would Mistress like for breakfast?"
"Um, nothing thanks," Hermione replied, and the elf's ears drooped.
"Master says that Mistress has to eat breakfast so Ami must make something or Master will be angry," the elf gabbled, twisting the tea towel it wore between agitated fingers.
Sighing in exasperation at the elf's cringing manner, Hermione bit her lip. She had tried in vain to get the house-elves to call her by her first name, but her pleas had fallen on deaf ears. The creatures were so set in their ways they refused to change. Also, it seemed that Draco's word was law for them, no matter what she did or said, and she had so far not been able to override any order he had given. She thought back to her brief campaign to free house-elves during her fourth and fifth years and smiled at the futility of it. The Malfoys' elves would probably die of shock if she was to offer them clothes.
Deciding she didn't feel in the mood for an argument with the creature, she shrugged. "Well in that case, coffee and rolls would be nice."
It nodded, and with a crack, vanished, leaving her alone. Swiftly, she opened the door of the breakfast room and crossed to the doors leading out onto a sun-drenched terrace bordering a sloping green lawn. A light breeze swayed the branches of the trees, the leaves of which were starting to turn gold in the early September sunshine. Stepping out, she saw Draco and Aurora seated in folding chairs with quills, ink, and parchment set out in front of them.
"Mummy! There you are," her daughter greeted cheerfully, smiling up at her.
Hermione bent and kissed her, then drew up a chair beside her and sat down.
"Morning," Draco smiled, eyes skimming lazily over her. "Sleep well?"
"Yes, thanks," she responded, determinedly meeting his gaze with a cool look of her own which only seemed to amuse him.
Then turning to Aurora, she asked in a bright voice, "What are you doing?"
"We're witing," came the prompt response. "Daddy thinks it's time I learned."
"I agree," Hermione said, picking up the parchment on which were scrawled the letters of the alphabet in Aurora's round, unformed hand.
At that moment, the house-elf to whom she had been talking appeared with a large tray containing enough food for five people, which it set on the table before her, and then vanished.
"Can I have a roll, Mummy?" Aurora asked, eyeing the basket of freshly-baked rolls hopefully.
"Where do you put all that food, angel?" Draco laughed. "You had breakfast not so long ago."
Hermione buttered a roll and handed it to the child before taking one herself. She felt hungry, another first for her in the morning, and bit into the crusty roll with relish.
"It's nice to see that you have an appetite today," Draco drawled. "Coffee?" Not waiting for a response, he poured her a steaming cup, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar, which surprised her.
"Don't look so shocked, my dear. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't know how my wife took her coffee?" He leaned over and handed her the cup, his fingers brushing deliberately over hers.
"It's time we gave some thought to Madam's schooling," he continued casually, adding cream to his own coffee. "She'll be five soon, and is getting a little old for my Aunt's nursery, don't you think?" He ruffled Aurora's curls as he spoke.
Hermione swallowed her mouthful and turned to look at him. "I had enrolled her in a Muggle school not too far from us, but term doesn't start for another two weeks."
"Do I have to go there?" Aurora complained. "It was howid and I had to wear a uniform and they couldn't fly there either."
"It wasn't horrid, and they couldn't fly because they were Muggles. Kingswood is a good school," her mother replied, taking a sip of her coffee and admitting reluctantly that it was just as she liked it.
"I'm sure it is, but still it's impractical to send her there now," Draco persisted. "I've been giving the matter some thought, and think that a tutor would be the best thing for her, especially as we're out all day."
She sighed. She knew that wizarding families who could afford it employed tutors to teach their children until they went to Hogwarts. Some like the Weasley's were taught by their parents, but this tended to be due to lack of funds more than anything else. While she could see the reasoning behind this form of tuition, she had hoped to send Aurora to a Muggle school, to learn to integrate with other children and develop her social skills, things that could not be achieved if she were taught alone.
"Well, I'm not so sure," she started tentatively. "I can see the merits of having one-on-one tuition, but her social skills wouldn't be developed, and it's important to interact with children of her own age as well."
Draco set down his cup and frowned. "No school can give her the same education as a tutor could. As for her social skills, she wouldn't be isolated; she has friends in the wizarding world who she'd play with. None of us lacked the skills when we went to Hogwarts; you're worrying too much."
Aurora was watching them intently, having finished her roll. She wore a thoughtful expression that normally preceded the announcement of some odd idea or plan and Hermione wondered what she'd come out with.
"Well, if we had a baby like Auntie Ginny and Uncle Hawwy, I wouldn't be alone, and so my skills would be okay." She grinned broadly.
Hermione almost choked on her coffee, and hoped colour wasn't flooding into her cheeks. "I told you before, no," she said with a frown.
Aurora hadn't mentioned the subject of the baby since she'd seen Rose a few days ago and Hermione had hoped that she'd given up on it, but obviously not.
"What's all this about?" Draco asked in perplexity.
"I wanted Mummy to get us a baby like Auntie Ginny's but she said no," Aurora explained in a rush before Hermione could open her mouth. "Then I said I'd ask you, but she said no to that as well. But I want a baby, Daddy! I can play with it, and Mummy won't have to think I'd be on my own."
"Yes, that's true, angel, but you need better reasons than that to have a baby. Mind you," his eyes moved to Hermione with a gleam, "these things do happen."
Knowing exactly what he was referring to, she stared coolly back. "No, don't even go there. I took precautions."
"What?" Aurora asked, then reverted back to her former subject. "So what do you think, Daddy? Can we have a baby as well? I told Mummy it could sleep in my woom so me and Tiger can look after it. Please, Daddy, please?"
"Babies aren't dolls that you play with when you want to, darling," Hermione smiled in spite of herself, putting an arm around her shoulders.
"Evewyone at school has babies at home, only I don't. Why can't we get one?"
"Because they're not easy to find," Draco answered, the corners of his mouth twitching.
She ignored him, and turning to her mother, said, "But Auntie Ginny said that you were getting bwoody and that Daddy could help you get a baby if you wanted and-"
"Aurora! That's enough! Go and get that book with the moving letters that we got last week and we can read it," Hermione interrupted hurriedly, face flaming.
She had half a mind to make her own escape and go with Aurora, but Draco, sensing her intentions, leapt from his chair and pulled her down into hers while perching on the arm.
"Ami's making gingerbread men, Princess," he tempted, looking at Aurora. "Why don't you go and ask her if you can have some? I bet they've just come out of the oven!" He licked his lips and grinned.
Aurora, distracted, scrambled from her chair and scampered into the house, her eyes shining at this unexpected treat, babies forgotten for the time being.
"Now," Draco resumed, turning to a highly discomforted Hermione. "What's this about you becoming broody?"
"It's Aurora talking nonsense and you know it." She pulled her arm from his grasp and made to stand, but once again he stopped her.
"You were always a bad liar," he said, wrapping an arm about her shoulders and bending, kissing her cheek. "So come on, tell me. If you don't, Aurora will."
She wished that she and Ginny had been a bit more circumspect in their conversation, but Aurora had been busy with the Bertie Bott beans. Even if she did hear something, she rarely repeated it. Today however, was the exception, and Hermione wanted to groan. Aurora couldn't have picked a better time if she had tried.
She raised her chin haughtily, but he only laughed, his arm tightening around her. "So come on then. What was it that you were saying?"
Knowing that he wouldn't give up until his curiosity had been satisfied, she said, "It's just a conversation Ginny and I were having, that's all."
"A conversation in which she said that you were getting broody?" he suggested mildly.
"Oh, you know Ginny. She seems to think that just because she's had a baby, the rest of the world should do the same." An image of Rose's tiny helpless form rose up in her mind, and she bit her lip.
"Hmm, very shallow of her," he agreed. "But that doesn't explain why she thinks that you're becoming broody."
"I told you, she's looking at the world through tinted glasses and seems to think that me and every other woman she knows is broody and should have a child," she dismissed.
"I see." There was a pause, then he continued, "Do you think she's right? After all, she is your closest female friend, and is better qualified than most to make such an assumption."
"No, I don't!" she replied vehemently, but he only smiled. "As I said, she's a bit off balance at the moment, and so is imagining things that aren't there."
"Of course," he agreed silkily. "You know, it's no crime to want a child. For all we know, you may be pregnant right now. "
This time she managed to wriggle out of his grasp and quickly stood up. "I told you, I'm not. I took precautions when we got married."
She thought she saw a look of disappointment cloud his eyes for a moment, then it was gone to be replaced with a thoughtful frown. "Precautions? Why? For someone who insisted that ours was to be a 'marriage of convenience', you were certainly well prepared! It almost makes me think that you expected us to sleep together."
"Of course not. I just couldn't trust you that's all and thought it best to be prepared," she retorted, deciding not to tell him that her main reason for taking the contraceptive potion was to help regulate her own system which had not been functioning as it should in recent months. That it had carried out the purpose for which had it had been meant, was a welcome bonus to her.
His expression was unreadable as he said, "I see! Well, you know what the solution is if you are becoming broody."
Deciding not to answer this, she turned away. "I'd better see what Aurora's doing," she threw over her shoulder as she hurried into the house, her cheeks still warm.
She frowned, trying to make sense of their conversation, but was unable to come up with a reason as to why he had been so interested in her conversation with Ginny. His whole manner had been different, more relaxed and well…happy, that was until he had learned that she had taken steps to prevent any consequences from the night before. Men, she decided, were an entity apart, where logic and reasoning, attributes she valued highly, played no part. One thing she did know was that last night had changed something between them. Exactly what, she couldn't fathom, but something was definitely different.
In truth, she had no regrets about the night before, and wondered how he was feeling about it. She only wished that it would have no impact on their day to day relationship, and smiled at the futility of such a hope. She would think about the incomprehensibility of it all later on, and with an effort, pushed the matter from her mind. Her immediate concern was Aurora, who was probably overindulging on gingerbread men in the kitchen, and would make herself sick if not stopped.