Signed, Sealed, Delivered

by PrincessoftheWood

What happens when Hermione Granger is told she is unrelatable and needs to become relatable to the public to gain the title and career she's dreamt of since graduating from Hogwarts? What will happen when becoming relatable means going after the one dream she never thought would come true? This story comes from a plunny from my amazing beta, the incomparable, Acantha Rayne OakMoon.

8. Conversations, Quidditch & Cassie

Hermione stirred on Sunday morning to the feeling of a heat-radiating little person clinging to her side. There was another feeling too, of being watched. She opened her eyes slowly, judging the light of the room to determine the time. Maybe 7am; dawn was still brewing. Glancing down at the little heat generator, who was clinging to her side like a limpet, she couldn't help but choke down a laugh. Of course, the first time I spend the night would be with Scorp and not his father.

"Morning sleepy head," Draco said, slightly amused by her wilder-than-usual bed-head curls, carrying a tray of steaming coffee and eggs benedict.

Hermione smiled at the thought of Draco bringing her breakfast in bed before she remembered that they were barely speaking and let her eyes drop from Draco's amused face to the tray.

"Happy Mother's Day. I thought 'Breakfast in Bed' might be in order."

Hermione frowned. Wasn't it currently October? How long had she been asleep exactly? Mother's Day was months ago. She'd had Molly's family clock upgraded to antique spoons with gold filigree writing to indicate each family member written on the handles. Molly had cried. So had Hermione, but more at the bone-crushing hug than the emotion. She still hadn't gotten used to those.

"Mother's Day was in March. It's October," she announced, as if she was talking to a five-year old.

"I know that, Hermione. I'm not an idiot, despite some… alarming evidence to the contrary. It's just that, well… you weren't a mother in March and now… well, now you clearly are." He answered in a voice that was filled with regret for not really admitting this sooner. His words slightly staggered with the emotion of finally being able to speak to her. Moving towards the bed, he placed the tray on a bench at the end and took a seat near the foot-board, not wanting to crowd her if she didn't want him close.

Hermione looked down at the still sleeping child who was curled around her, her son, their son… 'Oh Merlin, I have a son with Draco Malfoy', the enormity of reality hit her at that moment… nothing else mattered now except for this little family that she was helping to make complete. Her smile resurfaced.

"Draco, I-"

"Hermione, we-"

They spoke at the same time, then laughed, quietly, not wanting to wake Scorpius.

"You go." Hermione offered, magnanimously.

"We need to talk… about where we go from here. I know how much I hurt you and that I overreacted but I was panicking and angry that I couldn't find you, couldn't reach you. It… it scared me."

Hermione closed her eyes at his confession and took a breath, feeling the warmth of being cared for to the extent that his emotions were so intensely out of control. A dream memory resurfaced from last night and a poignant phrase came to mind… 'we only hurt the ones we love'. It was a backwards way of living but it was true; people lash out at those they love because they know the love will remain. Whether Draco did this consciously or not was unknown but she assumed he didn't know that's what he was doing.

"Oh Draco," Hermione responded quietly. It was more of a reaction to her realization than to the man himself but he didn't need to know that. "I overreacted too. We'd been growing closer irregardless of the contract and of course you were worried. With Scorpius's tantrum too - I'm assuming it lived up to Malfoy proportions of temper and angst - I imagine you'd had quite a day and were just unloading on the nearest and most culpable individual. That just happened to be me. I should've been more understanding and realized that you weren't aware that when I'm tired and need time away, I tend to just cut myself off, lock the floo and ignore everyone until I feel more myself and ready to deal with the world."

Draco nodded his agreement but didn't respond verbally, so she continued, as being a rambler extraordinaire demanded she must.

"I think it's probably a remnant of the war. Complete lack of privacy in that damn tent means I have a tendency to take advantage of the convenience I am now afforded to shelter myself. I was hungover, tired and recovering from a night out with, well… Slytherins. No offense but bloody hell, those girls know how to drink."

Draco nodded at her observance about his friends. Pansy could drink for England and Daphne wasn't far behind. He doubted the Gryffindor ladies were stragglers though. Somehow, he couldn't imagine alcohol affecting Lovegood.

"I think I understand where you're coming from. I know you're not short of people who care about you and like to know that you're safe. The difference between them and me is that they know you a lot better than I do. They know that you lock yourself away to recover from a hangover; they also know that when you can't be reached, it's probably for some unselfish reason like saving the world by flying out of Gringott's on the back of a dragon."

Hermione laughed. "You were listening to the story last night?"

Draco nodded and looked down and his son, still fast asleep. "Thank you… for being kind about my involvement. I'm dreading the day Scorp knows the truth. I can't bear the thought of seeing hatred in his eyes for me once he knows what I did. He's such a good boy, I don't want him to be corrupted by the legacy of being a Malfoy."

Hermione sighed and reached a hand across the covers, which he took and held, squeezing.

"He won't be, I promise. When the time comes, we'll explain it together. That you were a very scared child who was raised with certain beliefs that meant you fought for the wrong thing and was pulled into a war that should've been fought by adults, not teenagers. And I will make sure he knows that in the end, you were brave enough to lie for us and not identify Harry at the Manor. I won't let him hate you, Draco but I don't think he ever could. I know I couldn't."

With tears in his eyes, he squeezed her hand tighter.

"But what happened to you, here; and how I was at school and…"

"Listen to me, Draco Malfoy, and listen well," Hermione spoke in a low but very determined voice, her hand squeezing tightly around his as she looked him straight in the eyes, "You are forgiven. Always and completely forgiven. I will not start this marriage with echoes of the past haunting us. Both of us will have off days and times when we can't help but relive the trauma of what has gone before but I will not allow it to dictate our lives.We both found the strength and fortitude to survive Tom bloody Riddle and the specter of his tyranny has no place in this house anymore. Do you understand me?"

"But-"

"No. No buts, no what ifs. He was a despotic, loveless arsehole who very nearly destroyed our entire world. He doesn't get a say anymore. My personal demons circle more around Bellatrix than Riddle anyway so I can be objective about him. If it's all the same to you, I still plan to avoid the drawing room when I'm Lady of the Manor."

Draco nodded at the sentiment but couldn't help snorting at the thought of Hermione as Lady of Malfoy Manor. He thought he should quantify the snort before she took offense. It wouldn't be good to be in her bad books so soon after this tentative make up.

"Lady Hermione Malfoy," he announced with exaggerated awe. "It has a nice ring to it, huh?"

Hermione smiled and carefully leaned forward, using their still joined hands to pull him closer. She was hoping for a kiss but got an awkwardly positioned hug instead. She couldn't help but use the proximity to inject a little levity to the situation though.

"Signed, sealed, delivered," she whispered.

"I'm yours," Draco responded without thought and enjoyed the small giggle he heard and the feeling of her lips brushing against the skin just below his ear.

"How about that breakfast, now?" Hermione asked once they were untangled. "Heavy conversation requires caffeine and sustenance to recover and I have a crazy few days to prepare for."

Draco picked up the tray and they moved over to the small sitting area on the other side of Scorpius's room, so they wouldn't wake the sleeping boy.

"Oh yeah, Nev mentioned you were gonna be at Hogwarts for a couple of days. You must be excited to relive your million and one visits to the library." Hermione didn't have to look at him to know he was smirking, she could tell from his tone. It was only mildly irritating and not nearly enough to mess with their new peace.

"I wasn't there that oft-." She looked at him then. "Hang on, you said Nev. As in Neville? How, in the name of Merlin, are you on such friendly first name terms with Neville Longbottom?"

Draco nodded, smirk still solidly in place "Yes, the one and only Neville Longbottom. Mother started getting plants and flowers for her gardens from him not long after he took up the teaching post at Hogwarts. He even helps her transplant them occasionally. He supplied and arranged the flowers when Astoria and I got married; on Mother's recommendation too. We hired him to decorate the entire Manor with his floral creations for the wedding and reception. After that, he became my go-to florist for everything. I'm sure you remember that Stori was fond of orange roses for some reason? Neville cross-bred two genuses of magical roses to create them for us and always made sure to have them on hand for me to give to her, especially when she was pregnant with Scorp. We became friends over time and he used to join us when Potter and Weasley made me go out with the other Auror trainees. He even joins us for the odd quidditch match when he can get time off. He's one hell of a chaser, should've played for Gryffindor."

Draco settled the tray on the coffee table between the two chairs they'd chosen to occupy. Hermione hummed, nodding slowly. His expression had morphed into reminiscence - probably of Neville 'chasing'.

"He's Scorpius's godfather, too," Draco added, handing Hermione her coffee mug.

"Thanks," She took the mug from his hand and took a sip, noting that it was perfect and she wondered if Draco had made breakfast or if Brix had, "I can't believe you and Neville are friends; it certainly explains why Scorp called him Uncle Neville last night when I was telling him the story. I'm surprised you didn't pick Theo as Scorpius's godfather though."

Draco grinned, "Theo's so business driven, he doesn't have much time for kids. He loves Scorp; he and Daph send presents for Christmas and Birthday. I suppose all that lack of time will have to change now though, he told me Daphne was pregnant yesterday."

"Oh, I know. I'm so excited for them. Daphne is going to look so radiant when she starts to show. I remember when Gin was pregnant, her skin glowed the entire time."

"We chose Neville because he'd become a really good friend. He helped my parents when they had a bit of a rocky time in their marriage a few years after the war, too. He found a couples therapist for them; some contact he has from St Mungo's. If I'm being honest, I don't know what I'd have done without him. Scorpius loves him too. Actually, I was wondering what you'd think of me asking him to stand with me at our wedding."

Hermione nodded, distractedly getting lost in her thoughts, remembering when Narcissa had confided in her that she and Lucius had begun couples counseling; she was proud of her future parents-in-law for getting the help they needed.

Herrmione let her thoughts linger on Lucius and Narcissa, ruminating on what their marital problems might be; she'd never ask but she was curious. Draco also seemed quite lost in his own head while they ate their breakfast quietly. Hermione kept glancing between the sleeping child and his father across from her fondly, feeling the love she imagined they'd whispered to each other last night, bubbling in her chest. She wondered if their foundation was as strong as the Malfoys, to withstand anything. When she had finished eating, she sat back in her seat and nursed the remains of her coffee.

Draco cleared his throat and sat back in his chair as well, "Neville mentioned you're giving the annual sex-ed class this year. Should be interesting. Wish I could be a billywig on the wall to watch."

Hermione looked at him and rolled her eyes before voicing her confirmation, "Yes, I'm the only one in the department who has healer training. With the influx of spattergroit patients lately, the healers at St. Mungo's are swamped and asked me to cover for them. Minerva has given me floo access to her office at Hogwarts early this afternoon for the Gryffindor vs Slytherin Quidditch match, then I'll be staying until lunchtime on Tuesday. That gives me enough time to cover years four to seven, and to assist Madame Pomfrey with Quidditch injuries. There's bound to be some with a Gryffindor/Slytherin derby match."

Draco looked at her, his eyes narrowed slightly, "Are you telling me that the Headmistress moved a Quidditch match from Saturday to Sunday specifically for you to be able to attend?"

Hermione nodded, blushing slightly. "Mm-hmm, we're good friends and I haven't gotten to a game in quite some time."

"You don't even like Quidditch!" Draco huffed.

Hermione smirked, "I don't have to like it to love watching Gryffindor trounce Slytherin, as per usual."

"As per usual," Draco mimicked her, pouting sulkily. Hermione laughed joyfully at his childishness.

"Oh, stop pouting," she giggled, "or I won't invite you and Scorpius to attend with me."

Draco's face changed instantly to downright elations, with a side of adoration, looking up at her with wide loving eyes and a sappy smile. He was unable to respond though as before he got the chance, his arms were filled with a sudden influx of Scorpius-shaped mass.

"Goooood mawwwning, Mummy! And good mawwwning, Daddy!" Scorpius smiled brightly at the two adults, hugging his father. Hermione smiled back at the toddler as Draco chuckled indulgently at his son.

"Good morning, Scorp," Draco said, "Are you hungry?"

"Hungwy!" Scorpius confirmed. "Mummy stayed the night, Daddy. Mummy sleeped in my bed."

"She did, son. Was it fun to have a sleepover with Mummy?"

The little blond boy nodded, enthusiastically. "She telled me stowies again. Fwying dwagons and powtwaits with passages, and fighting baddies."

"I know, little man. Mummy and her friends were very, very brave. They saved the whole world."

Scorp screwed up his face in confusion.

"How?"

Draco glanced at Hermione for permission to disclose certain things and when she nodded he looked back at his son.

"Well, did you hear mummy tell you about the burning room and how she saved me on her broom?"

"Yep." Scorp nodded. "I was neawly asweep but I was twying to listen hawd."

"The thing is Scorp, if she hadn't saved me that night, you wouldn't be here and you… my precious little man are my entire world." He looked over at Hermione then. "You and Mummy."

Hermione's eyes welled as Scorpius yelled, "Mummy a hewo!"

"Yes, Scorp. Mummy is a hero. She's my hero."

Brix popped in at that moment with an extra plate of eggs benedict, sans the hollandaise sauce, having sensed her young master awake. It was a point of annoyance for the kitchen elves that 'Master Scorpius will not endure sauces'.

"Good morning, Masters and Mistress." Brix smiled at the trio.

"Good morning, Brix." Hermione replied, "Did you have a good night?"

Brix nodded, before offering Hermione more coffee, which she knew Hermione could never decline and handing her a handkerchief to wipe away the emotional tears.

An hour later, the three of them were showered and dressed and walking around the gardens. Draco had decided to show Hermione some of Neville's handiwork and Scorpius was happily sitting on her shoulders, naming each bloom of Astoria's roses. They only bloomed so late in the year because of the long-term temperature control charms that Neville had placed on the soil. It was an impressive display.

"Do you mind if I borrow your owl when we get back to the house? I could do with popping over to see Severus before I head to Hogwarts. I'm a bit nervous and hoping for some teaching tips on how to deal with unruly teenagers."

"There's no need to use Mac. Severus is in the lab. He got here a couple of hours after you last night. Mostly to raid our stores (and father's stash of best Scotch) and use our platinum cauldron. He stayed last night too and was ordering coffee from Brix before 6."

"Oh, fantastic; he'll be well caffeinated and approachable by now then. We should head back up to the house soon. I don't want to miss him."

"Oh, he'll be here all day; nose bent over those cauldrons. You know what he's going to say, don't you? Take points, give detention and billow your robes like you're wearing a lethifold."

Hernione snorted with laughter. She couldn't help it. Draco had a bit of a point but she hoped Severus would be a little more constructive in his advice.

After heading back to the Manor, Draco had Brix take Scorpius to the playroom for a while and led Hermione to the door of the lab. Knocking on any door when Severus was on the other side, always took Hermione back to her school days and psychosomatic dread gurgled and twisted in her stomach. Draco looked cool as a cucumber but then, Severus was always more lenient with the Slytherins.

"Come in," came the unmistakable baritone of her former professor.

Hermione took a deep breath, told herself he was a friend now and that she was being ridiculous - which led to a rather humorous memory of the Defense lesson on 'riddikulus' which had her holding back giggles as Neville's boggart appeared as Severus wearing Ausgusta's vulture hat and bright red handbag - and opened the door.

"Ah, Hermione. What brings you to this shadowy little corner of the world? And looking so amused?" Severus asked, curious.

"Oh, I was just being silly. I still have to remind myself that you can't take points from Gryffindor anymore simply for knocking on your door. It's an ingrained fear."

Severus smirked. "Glad to see I made such a lasting impression. What can I do for you?"

"Actually," she began as she took a seat at one the stools lined up against the lab counter, "I want your advice. I've been volunteered to give the health talk at Hogwarts and the last time I had to deal with that many teenagers, I was one. I was hoping you could provide some insight into how to, I don't know, get through to them."

"I see. Well, the first thing I can tell you is that calling it a 'health talk' will immediately set you off on the wrong foot. The kids know what the class is about and part of the draw for their attention is to hear teachers talking about sex. Advertise that from the start and you might keep the attention of one or two. Overall though, it's a lost cause, Hermione. They will listen to what they want to listen to; giggle and wolf-whistle at the perceived naughty bits and generally think they know better than the adults. It is the way it has always been."

"So what you're saying is, I should attempt to treat them like the adults they are not?"

Severus nodded, sagely.

"We weren't all like that, you know?" Hermione protested, vehemently misremembering that the students around her had been like that throughout the whole of Minerva's health talk. "I, for one, listened carefully and attentively to Minerva's lecture, took notes and even asked what I thought was a very good question."

Hermione watched him roll his eyes. He had a point, she was an inquisitive little thing back in her youth. As an adult she could see how annoying the perpetualness of her curiosity would be now, specifically to professors like Severus who just wanted to get on with their work, without being interrupted all the time. She cringed at her past obnoxiousness.

"You were an exceptional student. Barely like a teenager at all. You were specifically the exception that proves the rule though, not discounts it. I daresay if they had all been like you, my constant headache would have only persisted from having to look up obscure passages in centuries old books to prove you wrong, just find out you'd already checked it out of the library three years earlier and were absolutely correct."

Hermione blushed under the rare praise. "I like getting compliments from you. It's sort of like entering the twilight zone. Please do not attempt to adjust your tv set…" She laughed.

Severus joined in with a short chuckle. "Did I or did I not just tell you that you gave me a constant headache? How is that a compliment?"

Hermione smirked. "You're not nearly as fearsome as you think you are, you know? Now, do you have any real advice or not?"

Severus put a finger up in her direction to halt the conversation for a moment and returned his attention to a cauldron that had just started steaming. He gave three and a quarter anti-clockwise turns before adding what looked like flobberworm mucus. After waiting for maybe ten seconds, he stirred the same amount of times in the alternate direction and whispered an incantation over the bubbling concoction.

Hermione waited until he put a stasis charm on the cauldron before peering over it nosily and asking in her swottiest voice, "Wart Remover?"

"Insufferable know-it-all!" He commented, dryly, falling into character easily and adding a mock level of disgust to his voice for good measure. They played these games regularly, though it was usually via owls.

"Your favorite by all accounts, and besides… I learned from the best. Present company included."

Severus coughed a little to hide his discomfort at being complimented; if questioned on it, he could at least blame the fumes from the Wart Remover. Remembering the potion gave him an idea for a change of subject though…

"Incidentally, have you had your first yet? You're… what? 32, now?"

"My first what?"

"Wart, of course. The muggle rumors about witches being overrun with warts is true. But it's more of… an honor than the plight they are described as in muggle fiction."

"Really? Erm... no, I haven't. When do they usually happen, or erm... grow?" Hermione asked timidly, praying she didn't sprout one for her wedding day. The photos would be horrendous.

"They usually start in a witch's 30s and are persistent throughout their life. Vanity being what it is these days, most witches keep them disillusioned or remove them completely. Hence the potion. A wizard's equivalent is the long gray beard and early-onset wrinkles."

"Hmmm…" Hermione thought as she took in this new information. If warts are a mark of honor, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. If it was on the end of her nose or something, she could always just nab some of Severus's potion. "Say, would you mind if I commandeer a dose or two of this potion when you're done? I really wouldn't trust another brewer when warts might affect my wedding day."

Severus narrowed his eyes, shrewdly.

"Fine, I will give you your damn advice. Flattering Slytherins is an underhanded tactic and I thought better of you." He scowled.

"That wasn't an attempt at manipulation, merely the truth. But, once again, I learn from the best. That goes double for how to be sneaky considering half of my friends are now Slytherins. It's a good skill to have in my arsenal. I'm considering developing something for Gerorge's shop… Snake Drops; a green sugar syrup that gives the recipient the resourcefulness and ambition of a Slytherin for a few hours. What do you think?"

"Intriguing idea. I might develop the antidote. Lion Bites. A toffee or fudge that would make the chewer reckless and ridiculously self-sacrificing for a few hours."

Hermione reverted to childhood tactics and stuck her tongue out at the black-clad wizard before her in retribution. Severus rolled his eyes. "You will not control your endless streams of hormonally charged cretins like that. Although, a few of the lads might have more interesting ideas for your tongue. The Gryffindor ones will even tell you about it."

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. "That will land them in detention. I won't stand for shenanigans even if they can blame their hormones; it doesn't cost anything to be respectful."

"You are quite right, as usual. Unfortunately for you, teenage boys rarely think of respect when there are well-proportioned, erm… assets to stare at and drool over."

Hermione blushed and looked down at her… assets. "Thank you, Severus. You're just full of compliments today, aren't you? Did someone spike your morning pumpkin juice with veritaserum?"

"Very funny," he scowled.

"Yes! I thought so. Don't worry, I'll keep it to myself that you've had such thoughts about me. Draco wouldn't be too pleased. He's rather possessive, you know?"

Severus rolled his eyes again but wisely kept his mouth shut for several minutes to avoid stuttering out something more inappropriate. He enjoyed their banter most of the time but they were skating into the realms of flirtation which was a place, he knew, neither of them really wanted to be. Unfortunately, once that door opened, it was sometimes difficult to close.

"Now, as for this advice you seem to believe me capable of bestowing, the only things I can really suggest are to minimize your shape as much as possible, speak only in facts, not opinions and limit maintaining eye-contact to when you wish to be… intimidating. Channel Minerva and that untouchable aura she seems to emit. I would also suggest, if you have one, a witch's hat. It will add to your authority."

Hermione nodded along with his suggestions and made a mental note to stop by her flat and collect the one conical hat she owned, before floo'ing to Hogwarts. It had been a graduation gift from the Weasleys and was a deep burgundy velvet with pages from 'Hogwarts: A History' printed on satin which made up the lining. She'd been gifted matching robes from the staff too, with the book-print lining, which were presented by Minerva at the graduation ceremony for collecting the highest number of 'Outstanding' results in over half a century.

The conversation wrapped up quickly after Severus had dispensed his advice as he was eager to return to brewing and Hermione needed to say goodbye to Scorpius and Draco. A task she was not looking forward to, especially as she would be absent for story time for the next two nights in a row.

Explaining to Scorpius that she wouldn't be present for the next two sleeps had caused tears and very clingy hugs where the boy refused to let go so she couldn't leave. Draco wished he could be so emotive in expressing his wishes for her to stay but remained silent and let her comfort their son. A promise that her manuscript could stay at the Manor for Draco to finish the stories at bedtime quieted the tears and Draco rejoiced that he could finally read her take on the end of the saga that had graced every monthly edition of the Quibbler for the last five years. It had only been last night, as he was listening to Hermione read to Scorpius that it became obvious she was the anonymous author of The Great Tale of Hogwarts; not that he should've been surprised.

Hermione also promised she would floo over at least once for a cuddle and Draco wondered if he would get cuddles too. He missed getting close to his fiance, his… beloved. He felt like a sap for thinking in those terms but he knew it was just the truth of how his feelings had escalated.

"I'll see you Tuesday night, Scorp," Hermione said, trying to hide her smile. They were keeping it a surprise that she'd see him later at Hogwarts for Quidditch. "That's only two sleeps away, okay?"

The little boy nodded with a pout.

Once she floo'ed home, Hermione set about packing a bag for her two-day trip to Hogwarts, including her burgundy-and-bookprint- hat and robes. Staying at the Manor last night had not been part of her plans but at least the air was somewhat cleared with Draco. She felt as if they understood each other's reactions a little more now and could move forward. They had a wedding to plan, although most of the planning was out of their hands thanks to the input of Narcissa and Molly.

Hermione couldn't help but be curious how their styles would end up exploding over her wedding day. Narcissa was the more traditional of the two, of course; pureblood refinement, haute couture and solemnity of vows. Molly was much more homely; warm, matronly and defined by love. She hoped the best of both would endure.

She was still contemplating 'The Clash of Matriarchs: 2011 Edition' when she stepped out of Minerva's floo, decked out in a scarlet cloak and knee-high boots, a Gryffindor scarf tied around her neck; it was good to remember house loyalties. It would also remind Draco he'd agreed to marry a Gryffindor. Maybe she could get Scorpius interested in supporting the lions too.

"Hermione, lovely to see you." Minerva greeted as she pulled the younger witch into a hug. "Come in, come in, have a seat. Would you like tea?"

Hermione gave Minerva a side-hug and nodded about the tea, adding that she looked well and it was great to see the Headmistress too.

"I hope you're looking forward to teaching for a few days. You'd have been such a natural fit for…"

"Stop trying to sell me on teaching, Minerva. I made my decision a long time ago that I could do more good in creating regulations and advising on curriculum than I would teaching."

"Ah, Miss Granger. Wonderful to see you again," Albus Dumbledore's portrait commented, breaking the not-really-there tension. It was no secret that Minerva wanted Hermione as Head of Gryffindor and as the Transfiguration Professor; to follow in her own footsteps.

"You too, Headmaster. I have missed those twinkly eyes of yours." Hermione replied politely as she took a seat and accepted tea.

"You're too kind, Miss Granger. I do, so miss the twinkling though. The artist never got my eyes right, you know?"

"Hermione, please, sir. It's been a long time since I was a student here and constantly being referred to as 'Miss Granger' will definitely put me back in that mindset."

"I understand completely, Miss G- erm, Hermione. And I think it's time you call me Albus. You're a teacher now. Even if only on a temporary basis."

Hermione nodded. "I've been rather nervous about these classes actually. I even went to Severus for advice."

"Severus?" Minerva asked, looking surprised and a little hurt. "And what did he have to say for himself?"

Minerva could only imagine what teaching advice Severus might bestow. He'd always disliked children and loathed teaching for his entire tenure as a Professor. The only thing that kept him mildly satisfied was the Slytherin Headship and taking points from Gryffindor. In her expert opinion, honed over years of experience, it was his little revenge for the myriad of injustices he'd received as a child from certain members of her own house. Members she still wished she could reprimand more thoroughly for the acts they bestowed on the misunderstood boy she was now discussing.

"Oh, pretty much exactly what I expected. That hormones replace respect in any situation that involves a conversation with teenagers and the topic of sex."

She supposed that was to be expected both in Severus's response and the truth of the matter. Teenagers, excluding those like Hermione herself and maybe even Harry Potter, very rarely had nuances to provoke the academically minded. Minerva allowed her face to show the resigned fondness that she held for Severus and she and Hermione rolled their eyes, chuckling at Severus being, well, Severus.

Albus chose to remain silent. His youthful indiscretions with Grindelwald notwithstanding, he had led a mostly sexless existence. There had been a fling decades ago with Slughorn but that hardly counted either. It was when Horace had first arrived at the school and was trying to 'collect' Albus in a way that wasn't teaching.

"He did mention something else though, that intrigued me…" Hermione commented once she had calmed herself enough to speak.

"Oh?" Minerva asked, her interest piqued. Dumbledore pretended he was starting to doze off.

"Yes. He said that warts were something I should start to expect now that I'm in my 30s. Is that true? I can't imagine anything worse showing up on my wedding photos than a wart. Not that I'm particularly vain you understand but warts are so… stereotypical of witches in the muggle world. I might as well turn my skin bright green and ride a… well, I suppose I could ride a broom if I really had to but still… eugh!"

Minerva smiled indulgently. "That was quite the little tirade, Hermione. I have missed your temper. I'm familiar with muggle depictions of witches and whilst the broom association is due to Morgana Le Fey showing off on her 70th birthday, I believe, the bright green skin is an invention of muggle writers. Unless one has cause to contract Viridian Fever, of course. Nasty little bug, that one."

Hermione shuddered at the memory of reading about Viridian Fever from a passage in one of her healing textbooks - the patient was infected by a mutated pheromone from the Welsh Green Dragon that is only emitted during mating season and that pheromone proceeds to attack every sweat gland in the human body which is incapable of handling the temperature it causes. Everything the sweat glands then produce is a vibrant green which stains the skin as the body attempts to cope with overheating. Charlie had experienced 'The Fever' twice, according to Molly.

"The warts though?" the younger witch asked. Minerva had been annoyingly vague. Channeling Dumbledore, obviously; who was now pretending to snore.

"The information Severus supplied you with regarding witch warts was, I daresay, accurate. I could go into details about how they happen and why but given my understanding of how your mind operates, I assume you would prefer to read about it thoroughly." Minerva commented, waving her wand and wordlessly summoning two books from her shelves. "This first one, The Triple Goddess, is mostly set out in the three phases of womanhood -maiden, mother and crone - and talks in circles about Rites of Passage. There is some good information about what to do with witch warts if you remove them though. They are apparently very useful in fertility and love potions. If you don't wish to use them yourself, you can get a canny knut for them with any apothecary."

Hermione frowned at the idea of selling bits of herself but the Wizarding World being what it was, these practices were power for the cause. Although, if I did sell my warts, I could probably get a fair few galleons, the apothecaries would sell them under my name as 'the War Heroine Hermione Granger's' warts after all.

"This second book," Minerva continued, "... is simply called 'Witch', or at least W. I. T. C. H, which stands for Woman In Total Control of Herself. It was deemed a self-help book in the 1980s when women's liberation finally began to seep into the wizarding world. I think you'll enjoy it as it's written with a strongly feminist voice. It also endorses keeping your warts. There's even an exercise in it which encourages you to look in a mirror and expound on all of your good traits; telling you to love yourself 'warts and all'."

Hermione couldn't help but snort. 'Warts and all' indeed. She was curious if Minerva had any but didn't like to ask. She accepted the books gratefully and added them to her bag, pleased that she had night time reading for the next few days already arranged.

"Thank you, Minerva. I shall have a read through whilst I'm here. Hopefully, I'll be done before I leave and you can have them back."

"Oh, don't worry about that, dear. I know you would never harm a book and my trust in your ability to return anything that you've borrowed, including that time turner in third year, has never been tested."

Hermione smiled and checked her watch. Time was surely getting on. Quidditch would be starting soon. 11am the watch face showed. Maybe get settled in her room and have a bite of lunch before Draco and Scorpius showed up at 12.30.

"Erm… thank you, Minerva. I was wondering if I could freshen up before lunch? Godric knows how long the Quidditch will last and I'm feeling a little floo-fuzzy."

"Oh, of course. How rude of me." Minerva said, finding her way around the desk and leading Hermione to the office door.

They exited the office with Hermione sarcastically calling back "bye Albus," to the still 'dozing' ex-Headmaster. His lip twitched but he said nothing.

"I've put you in one of the guest suites on the second floor of the Astronomy Tower." Minerva explained, directing her ex-student, still wishing Hermione could be considered her protegé. "There's a beautiful view of the grounds from the windows. You'll probably hear a couple of classes taking place as the skies are forecast to be clear this week but I'm sure it will bring back fond memories for you."

"Sounds lovely." Hermione replied as they reached the entrance portrait on the second floor.

"Here we are… Matilda, wake up." Minerva addressed the portrait.

An elderly witch - who looked a lot like pictures of Hermione's great-grandma with her wild gray hair, piercing blue eyes and endless bangles and chains - squawked awake in her frame and nodded to the Headmistress.

"Good morning, Matilda. This is Hermione Granger. She'll be teaching here for a few days and would like to set a password."

"Wand…" Matilda commanded and Minerva frowned, telling Hermione to hold her wand to Matilda's outstretched hand.

"Just say the password you wish to use whilst you're here and mark a cross with your wand tip over her hand."

Hermione nodded and thought about what password she would easily remember. With the myriad of Stevie Wonder lyrics churning through her brain recently, especially with Draco's adoption of her little routine with Jamie, she wondered if that might be the easiest thing to remember. Signed, sealed, delivered. No, too obvious.

"Stevie Wonder," she blurted before she could think better of it and swiped an 'X' across Matilda's canvas palm. The witch in question curled her palm into a fist before kissing her own knuckles.

"Access granted." Matilda said with solemn authority, quite juxtaposed with her hippy appearance but quite in line with her shrewd eyes. She was like a cross between Luna and Minerva. Very odd.

"I shall leave you to it, Hermione. Lunch starts at 12. I understand Mr Malfoy and his son are floo'ing to my office, at 12.30?"

"They are. Please let them know that I shall meet them in the Great Hall. I'm sure Draco remembers the way."

They both had a little laugh and Minerva took her leave.

When she arrived at the Great Hall for lunch - through the Professor's Entrance, if you please - the only available seat at the Head Table was beside Romilda Vane, who had become the Potions Mistress about five years ago and Head of Gryffindor just last year. Still a little vexed at the witch's role in getting Ron poisoned, Hermione decided to grab a toasted, cheese and tomato sandwich and venture up to the fourth floor to visit the library. There was still twenty minutes before Draco and Scorpius arrived and despite Draco's teasing, she did want to re-walk her five-hundred thousand max visits to the library from childhood.

Eating her sandwich out of a serviette on the way, she was finished well before she reached the intricately carved double doors of her favorite Hogwarts haunt and before entering she magically disappeared the greasy napkin with a wand flourish.

Not having much time, she chose not to fall down the rabbit role of picking up a book, that was where lateness lay. She simply walked between the stacks and ran her fingers lovingly along the endless spines that attempted to entice her into their words of knowledge and understanding. Hermione resisted until she found her favorite spot in the back of the library; a large comfortable bay window that looked out over the Black Lake and surrounding shoreline. Smiling at the familiar old view, she took a seat and watched the students who were already making their way to the pitch for the game.

It was all too easy to slip into recent-history and imagine Ron was about to come bounding into the library - getting reprimanded by Madam Pince to slow down - and demanding Hermione 'put the bloody book down and come and watch Harry beat Malfoy to the snitch'. What a difference thirteen years made? Now she would be accompanying Malfoy, as his bloody fiancee, probably secretly cheering for Slytherin, because love trumps house loyalty, and then teaching 'a health class' to the students for two days. Adulting felt so odd sometimes.

Checking the time, she saw there was just under five minutes until 12:30 so she uncurled herself from the window seat and made her way out of the library, silently promising to return tomorrow or Tuesday morning. As she made her way back to the Entrance Hall from the fourth floor, she was almost toppled over on the first floor by a tall boy with turquoise hair and a willowy blonde girl running down the hall.

"Watch out!" Hermione called a bit exasperated.

"Sorry, Aunt Mione! We just wanted to see you before the match!" Teddy Lupin grinned up at her, unabashedly. Beside him Victoire Weasley smiled serenely at her aunt.

"Teddy, Victoire, you should know better than to run in the halls." Hermione admonished the two, but they seemed to ignore her, looking behind her. Turning, Hermione smiled. Draco was holding a squirming Scorpius and grinning at her. It made her heart flutter that they were approaching her with happiness. That Draco Malfoy was walking up to her - at Hogwarts, no less - with not only a lack of ill-intent but an actual desire to see her. Probably more than that too.

She turned back to the two pre-teens who were looking at her now, seeming to vibrate with questions. She hoped to waylay them. A test run for tomorrow.

"Teddy, Victoire… you remember Draco and Scorpius? From the Burrow a few weeks ago?" She asked.

Teddy nodded and crossed the distance quickly to shake Draco's hand like a proper little gentleman. Draco did his duty admirably, putting Scorpius down (who instantly ran to Mummy) and shaking Teddy's hand.

"Aunt Mione, is that your boyyyyyyfriend?" Victoire smirked, drawing out the word in a teasing tone.

"No, I'm Aunt Mione's boyfriend!" Teddy frowned, gripping Draco's hand tighter as if in threat as Hermione picked up Scorpius.

"Mummy!" The boy greeted with a smile and a sloppy kiss but otherwise watched the exchange between the others.

"But then, who will be my boyfriend, Teddy?" Victoire asked, turning to him with a small frown.

Teddy seemed to freeze for a moment before blushing, "I guess Cousin Draco can be Aunt Mione's boyfriend, if you want me to be your boyfriend."

Victoire smiled brightly and nodded, "I like that arrangement much better."

Hermione chuckled softly, shaking her head as Draco walked up beside her, rolling his eyes at the youthful antics. She kissed Draco's cheek and told everyone, but mostly Draco and Scorpius that she'd be carrying the boy to the Pitch, but "Daddy will have to hold you during the match." Scorpius agreed and hugged her around the neck.

"Well, now that that's settled, how about we head to the Pitch for the match now, eh?" Draco asked with a laugh. The kids all nodded.

"And yes, Victoire, Draco is my boyfriend," Hermione announced as if to the whole of Hogwarts, circa 1996. She held a smug grin as she looked at him and so did he.

Teddy and Victoire led the way down the last shifting staircase, through the Entrance Hall and out onto the grounds of Hogwarts, making their way towards the Quidditch Pitch on the other side of the grounds. Teddy and Victoire talked most of the way, mostly about school-related topics - classes, how the year was going better than the year before. They seemed excited to be able to take electives this year, having chosen the same electives, so they could see each other during the day. With Teddy in Hufflepuff and Victoire in Ravenclaw, their houses didn't have many classes together this year.

Draco was confused by this, asking why they didn't see each other much and remembering aloud that when they had grown up at Hogwarts, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had most classes together and Slytherin had the majority of classes with Gryffindor. The two students explained that the Headmistress had started switching which houses had classes together every year 'to promote interhouse relations'.

Hermione walked up the narrow stairs beside the stands surrounding the Quidditch pitch toward the Professor's box where guests were allowed to sit and where she would be watching her first Gryffindor vs Slytherin match in almost six years; she didn't get back here nearly as much as she'd like to just as an alumni and her job never seemed to coincide with Quidditch. Not that she was broken-hearted about that. She put on a decent show for her friends of having at least a passing interest in the sport but it never really inspired the excitement in her that it did in others.

Scorpius was holding her hand tightly but slightly skewiff on the stairs as Draco held his other hand but from behind the two of them. The domesticity of it must have glowed as she was sure she heard a few 'aww's' directed at them. Not the reaction she would've expected but at least she was being 'relatable'. Of course, the crowd couldn't feel the heat of Draco's gaze on her arse. She and Draco were so focused on getting Scorpius up the stairs that they didn't notice a student taking their picture.

They reached the Professor's box mostly undeterred, Teddy and Victoire left them where a pathway deviated to the Gryffindor stands, to join their friends. Hermione had Draco pick Scorpius up so they could get settled in their seats between the Headmistress and Neville a bit easier. Upon reaching said seats though, Scorpius refused to be held by Draco and only wanted to be held by 'Unkle Neville'. Chuckling, Draco handed the boy over to Neville, who happily propped the boy up on his shoulders.

"Afternoon, Hermione, Draco," Neville grinned at them.

"Hey, Nev," Draco smacked him on the back, grinning back smugly. It was a prideful feeling to be out with his family for their first public outing in the Wizarding World.

"Hi Neville," Hermione smiled at him. "How are the greenhouses treating you?"

"Oh great, great. I have some really promising students. One of them is playing today, actually… Cassandra Wood," Neville pointed to where the teams were making their way onto the pitch. "She's the Slytherin seeker but her aptitude for Herbology is something else. Cultivated a venomous tentacula from a seed in the third year."

"That's great Neville. Any relation to Oliver Wood?" Hermione asked, taking Draco's hand without even thinking about it. Draco looked around at the other professors; almost every eye was focused on the hand-holding. The famous Malfoy smugness returned.

Neville shook his head. "Everyone assumed so for a little while but she soon set everyone straight that she was the first muggleborn ever sorted into Slytherin." Neville chuckled, reliving memories.

"A muggleborn, in Slytherin? Really? Is everyone… erm… nice to her?" Hermione asked on instinct.

"There were a few rocky months but she soon put everyone in their place. She rivals your marks in classes, Hermione and she made friends with one particular lad… erm Jonas Warrington… they became thick as thieves… sort of like how you were with Harry and Ron actually. It took until the middle of her second year to be truly accepted but I think the amount of emeralds she put in the Slytherin Hourglass helped. She's a prefect now, and set to be Quidditch Captain next year."

Hermione shook her head, disbelieving that a muggleborn had finally been accepted into Slytherin. The times, they were a-changing, apparently. She stamped down the little bit of envy that rose up and quashed the little voice that said 'I'd have made a good Slytherin'.

"So, anyone up for a bit of a wager, then? This is the first Slytherin vs Gryffindor match I've been to since school." Draco smirked. "I need to relive my youthful indiscretions."

Hermione rolled her eyes, thinking there were far worse indiscretions he partook in than underage gambling, but left it alone. Neville chuckled at Draco's banter and agreed, "I'm game. I'll put ten galleons on Gryffindor winning. Cassie's good but her brother, Alexander, is better. They're twins."

Minerva looked over and smirked, "I'll wager ten on Gryffindor as well. I haven't bet on the Quidditch since Severus was sitting beside me. Harry was so very good to my purse strings."

Hermione looked at her old Head of House in shock, until the other professors all started making their own wagers with Draco. Most put their money on Gryffindor winning, but Draco, Romilda Vane (much to Hermione's quite obvious displeasure), Professor Vector and Professor Sinistra all bet on Slytherin winning. Hermione reluctantly agreed to bet on Gryffindor.

Smirking, she added, "I'll also put five on Slytherin and five on Gryffindor in Scorpius' name."

Draco and a few others laughed at that and agreed that it was an acceptable bet as it was 'never too early for a child to earn some pocket money'.

The Match began at 1 o'clock on the dot. The teams looked so young and Hermione grinned, remembering being that young and being terrified that Harry was going to get himself killed during his matches. Which he almost did, all too often. Almost swallowing the snitch in his very first game was the tip of the bloody iceberg for that boy. Rogue bludgers and broken arms, then removal of bloody bones; falling off brooms and dementors in the sky. Stupidly dangerous sport; though Hermione admitted most of it was hardly Harry's fault.

The Slytherin team got the drop on Gryffindor quickly and seemed to dominate the match with their strategies; the captain seemed very proud of his team from the sidelines, where he was cradling his arm which looked to be growing back. "He lost his arm in practice last month. Bludger's charm was overpowered." Minerva informed the group. "Poppy was reminded of growing Potter's arm bones back in '93."

Looking around the pitch, Hermione was surprised to find Viktor Krum on the ground, with a whistle around his neck, his face as serious as ever, back straight and eyes surveying, taking notes as he watched Madame Hooch referee the match. She pointed him out to Draco who also seemed shocked to see his childhood hero. Neville didn't seem surprised, and explained that Viktor was in training with Madame Hooch to take over her position on the faculty as the snake-eyed witch wanted to travel.

This surprised Hermione even further and she grinned, mentioning that she would have to catch up with him as she hadn't heard from him in a while. Though she was happy Viktor was around, she was ecstatic that Draco didn't seem to be making a big fuss over her wanting to spend time with the Bulgarian while she was at Hogwarts for the next few days. Unlike some men she knew who would have voiced their displeasure and ranted, Draco trusted her. It was a warm feeling.

A green blur streaked past their spectator box about forty minutes into the game, followed about five seconds later by a red blur. They were neck and neck within a minute and racing into the cloth-covered structures of the stands. Hermione was reminded strongly of Harry and Draco racing for the snitch in second year and smiled at the reminiscence.

"Cassie and Alex Wood are both in hot pursuit of the snitch," came the commentator's voice. "Also both in line for captain of their respective teams next year. Miss Wood is closing in. Her Lightning Bolt 360, named for the incomparable Harry Potter, is the latest stick from Fire in the Sky and available at Quality Quidditch Supplies' now for just shy of 750 galleons. A bargain really with it's ability to turn in a 360 degree circle in under three seconds!"

"Bletchly… concentrate on the match," Hermione heard Krum's accent loud and slightly miffed but also a little amused.

"Sorry sir, paid sponsorship. Gotta earn my galleons."

The crowd laughed.

"Bletchly sounds like a Slytherin." Draco commented as the Wood siblings separated , clearly believing the snitch went somewhere the other didn't see. Clearly the little golden bugger had disappeared again.

"He is," Nevillie replied. "6th year. Slytherin's answer to Lee Jordan and ten times more entrepreneurial than even the Weasley twins ever were. He started a sweet shop in the alcove under the stairs in the Entrance Hall. Get's Hufflepuffs to do all the shifts , of course."

"I might speak to my father about reaching out to him for an apprenticeship at Malfoy Enterprises. We need more people who know how to take the initiative."

"Should I tell him to expect your owl?"

"Definitely."

"Daddy! Daddy! Snitch! Snitch." Scorpius shouted, breaking the conversation up.

Sure enough the golden snitch was fluttering in front of the spectator box, seemingly showing off for it's audience.

"Want it, want it! Mine!" Scorpius yelled some more, diving from Neville's lap toward his prize.

Hermione moved first. Quick as a flash, she dived forward, catching Scorpius's ankle as he attempted to ascend the railings and reach the snitch. She pulled him down and into her body, hugging him tightly as he squirmed to get away and return to his quest.

"Don't do that sweetheart. You made mummy's heart jump into her throat. The snitch is part of the game. The people on brooms have to try and get it."

Draco had joined them by the time Hermione stood up, still holding Scorpius to her as if petrified to let go. "You okay, son?"

"I want a bwoom. Get snitch." Scorpius demanded, unaware of the risen heart rates around him as he reached for his father.

Hermione held a hand to her chest after passing the boy to Draco and breathed deeply.

"Are you ok?" Draco asked Hermione, shifting Scorpius to his hip and shushing him.

"I've never been so scared in my life…" Hermione commented. "And that's saying something. I couldn't have pulled my wand in time. I just… reacted."

"He's fine, Hermione. I promise. Listen to him."

"Snitch! Snitch! Snitch!" The boy chanted. The snitch was annoyingly still hovering around in front of the box taunting him.

Cassie Wood flew by just as Scorp was chanting and almost stopped in mid air, right between the golden annoyance and the box. Hearing the child's words she looked around and spotted the fluttery menace within grasp. She simply reached out and grabbed it before flying into the box as Bletchly announced "Slytherin wins!"

The girl dismounted next to Draco and Scorpius as the stands went wild with either cheers or groans, leaned forward and said 'thanks kid' before giving Scorp a kiss and offering the snitch to him. Scorpius's face lit up and he practically snatched it out of her hand.

"What do you say, Scorpius?" Draco asked, adding a feigned strictness to his voice.

"Fank you, Miss… erm…" He turned to look at Draco. "Who is she, daddy?"

"This is Miss Wood, Scorpius. She just won the game for Slytherin by catching that snitch." Draco smirked, smugly.

Hermione huffed out a sigh, "Congratulations, Miss. Wood. This is Draco Malfoy, you've just met," Hermione gestured toward her almost-fiance with a smile, "And his daredevil son, Scorpius. I'm..."

"Yes, Hermione Granger, I know who you are. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger," the blonde seeker interrupted before waving at Scorpius and Draco, then held her hand out to shake Hermione's. "All of you really."

Draco chuckled whilst Hermione sighed, "You help one fated bloody chosen one and no one ever forgets about it."

"You'll always be a hero, love, you might as well embrace it," Draco murmured into her ear, leaning in a little. He felt the shiver that she couldn't repress and attempted, abysmally, to suppress his smirk.

"Awww," Miss Wood reacted, "You two are so sweet. How long have you been together? Are you officially courting? Are you getting married?"

"Are you familiar with courting rituals, Miss Wood? I didn't realize muggleborns were aware of such customs. There aren't any books regarding them in the Hogwarts Library; at least there never used to be." He turned to Hermione, "Have you passed some new class about Wizarding Culture and not told me?"

Hermione shook her head just as Miss Wood commented to Draco's query, "Mr Malfoy, the Library has sadly not been updated but when I said I was muggleborn it was a slight exaggeration. My brother and I are distant cousins of Oliver Wood. He had a squib great-uncle and we are that uncle's great grandchildren and the first since the generation before him to have magic. Hence the muggleborn-moniker. I suppose there was just enough magical history for me to sneak into Slytherin. Between Oliver and my friend Jonas Warrington, we've picked up on a few customs."

Hermione was about to comment on this when Romilda Vane - though Hermione supposed she should call her Professor Vane now - butt into their conversation, "Draco, we have to divvy up the winnings between me, you, Sinistra and Vector," the younger witch commented, practically petting Draco's arm. Hermione glared at the little harlot's hand on her betrothed and then glanced at Draco; he seemed rather uncomfortable.

"Please, remove yourself from my person, Miss Vane, and apologize to Miss Wood and Hermione for interrupting our conversation," Draco said coolly, as he handed Scorpius over to Hermione. "You should know better. Your sister would be unimpressed by your conduct."

Draco reminded Hermione so much of his father - from years ago, of course - in that moment that she almost shuddered at the memory that came forth of his demeanor at the bookstore before second year. It surprised her that she was a little turned on by the comparison; although maybe it was just that Draco had dissuaded Romilda and not that he had acted all… intimidating. She suppressed another shudder. No definitely the latter.

Romilda reluctantly removed her hand from his arm and took a slight step back, giving the student and Hermione a fake smile, "Sorry for interrupting."

"I'll settle up with everyone in a few minutes," Draco announced to everyone remaining in the box.

When he turned his attention back to his family and Miss Wood, the Slytherin Seeker was nodding at Vane, a grim line set against each witch's lips. Apparently the Head of Gryffindor was Wood's least favorite professor. He watched as the girl turned back to Hermione who was pointedly ignoring Vane all together. Jealousy was a beautiful thing on Hermione; especially when the witch had barely touched his arm. Wood's face beamed at meeting and conversing with 'war heroine' Hermione Granger, and the witches picked their conversation back up where they'd left off.

With Hermione holding Scorp, Draco decided now was as good a time as any to sort out wins and losses from the bet and took the pouch of galleons out of his pocket. As the one to suggest wagers in the first place, he had become the unofficial bookie. Professors Vector and Sinistra smiled as Draco handed them their cut before handing Romilda hers and pocketing the rest. He'd collect off Hermione when she returned from Hogwarts; hopefully in something other than galleons.

"Your son looks very like you, Mr Malfoy," the Headmistress commented, looking over at Hermione holding Scorpius.

Draco smiled at them too. "Call me 'Draco', please Headmistress. The infernal 'Mr Malfoy' always makes me think of my father and whilst I may have inherited the hair and the cheekbones, we're not as alike as people like to think."

Minerva smiled, returning her attention to the blond wizard who had become so much more than she could have predicted from the darkness of his beginnings. "I agree with you… Draco. And I think reciprocation might be in order, considering we are peers now in the face of running schools. I do not envy you the toddler tantrums, though I presume you would not wish to be surrounded by teenagers, either."

"You're right. Once was enough. I considered teaching at Hogwarts years ago though. Around second year, I thought it might be fun to take over from Severus, or maybe Madam Hooch when one of them retired. Seventh year though, ensured I could never live at Hogwarts. Too many memories, you understand."

"I do, indeed. It was a hard adjustment to make when the school reopened. You have realized your dream in another way though, Draco. A pre-Hogwarts school was a fantastic idea and I am glad it came to fruition for you."

"Thank you, Headm- erm, Minerva. I'm glad you approve."

"I really do. You've made remarkable progress and I must say… I'm rather proud of you."

Draco fought a blush. An odd sort of feeling bubbled up in him. Pride from others was rarely something associated with him in such a benevolent way. Draco felt… appreciated.

"I'm, erm… not sure what to say, erm… Minerva. You've caught me a little off guard."

The Headmistress smiled, indulgently. "Well, I noticed how close you and Hermione have become and Victoire Weasley seems to believe the two of you are, well, something of an item. Would that be a true representation of how the land lies between the two of you?"

Draco nodded, once again blushing and having no idea why, or how to stop it. "Yes, for a little while now. Scorpius has taken to her like Bowtruckles on Beech, even started calling her 'mummy' recently. It's amazing. She's… amazing."

"I quite agree. I was wondering, how would you feel about living that 'Hogwarts Professor' dream for a couple of days? Professor Vane needs to leave the school for a few days to attend to a family matter so I am in need of a Potions Master. I was going to ask Severus but I'd rather not put up with the grumbling, if you'd be willing…?"

Draco smiled. He wouldn't have to be parted from Hermione; but what about… "Erm… my son…?"

"You are welcome to keep him with you, if you choose to stay but you and Hermione will have rather full days and though I'm sure the elves could keep him entertained, he might enjoy the company of relatives more than this drafty old castle."

"You're sure you want me to do this? The last time I was here…"

"Was a long time ago. You've grown up now. I have every faith in you. Run along now and inform Hermione of the romantic days at Hogwarts ahead of you both."

Draco rolled his eyes but thanked the Headmistress and headed back to the others.

"Oh and Draco…?" Minerva called over.

Draco turned back.

"You have your mother's cheekbones."

He laughed and returned to the other side of the box.

Vane and Wood had both left but Hermione was sitting on one of the benches - Scorpius asleep with his head on her shoulder - talking to Neville.

"You must be proud of your old house team?" Neville asked as Draco approached.

He nodded, stroking a hand over Scorpius's ruffled platinum locks.

"He just snuggled up and dropped off a few minutes ago. I'm guessing all the excitement tuckered him out." Hermione commented, softly.

"How would you feel about us having a… erm… romantic couple of days here at Hogwarts," Draco asked his witch.

Neville excused himself, explaining 'this sounds private' and making his way back to the greenhouses.

"Teaching and romance hardly go hand in hand, Draco. I'm going to be busy with classes. And what about Scorpius? We can hardly…"

"I'm going to send Scorp off to my parents place until Wednesday. Minerva asked me if I could cover potions for a couple of days whilst Vane is out of town. Some family thing."

"Oh!" She responded, a little underwhelmed in Draco's opinion, then brightened. "Oh, her sister Emma is getting married tomorrow. I read the announcement months ago."

"Are you really only excited about remembering that, or are you looking forward to traipsing around Hogwarts again…? Only this time it'll be more fun because you get to enjoy it with me!"

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled up at him. "We're going to be too busy to have fun. I have to teach kids about safe sex and you have to stop them blowing up cauldrons. Oooo, maybe we could combine classes… on the contraceptive potion. That would be fun."

Chapter 8.5 - Hidden Heart to Heart

Hermione had babbled on about combining classes all the way back to the castle. At which point, Draco had floo-called his mother to come to the castle and pick up Scorpius (they were due back from their 'long weekend on the continent' in a few hours anyway) and made arrangements with his own school for his deputy - Cho Chang - to look after the administration during his absence.

Scorpius had not been happy about losing both Mummy and Daddy for 'stowy-time' but Hermione had promised to pass along her stories to 'nana and gwangad' for bedtime and the boy settled down easily enough after that. Hermione let Narcissa know to collect the manuscript from Scorpius's bedside table.

Minerva had chosen to give Hermione and Draco adjoining quarters in the Astronomy Tower and Hermione was sure the castle had left the adjoining door unlocked. Draco had looked a little green around the gills, probably reliving his unpleasant associations with the tower, as they ascended the stairs from the entrance. Hermione took his hand in support, hoping to show he never had to do these things alone anymore.

"I'm just going to freshen up." Draco announced as they reached her door. "Nev mentioned The Three Broomsticks with some of the other professors later but I think I should probably go over the lesson plans for tomorrow. What are your plans for the evening? I know you weren't expecting to have me around but if you want to do something, I'm sure I can get by on my wits alone tomorrow."

"What wits?" Hermione replied, smirking.

Draco scowled.

"I'm joking," she asserted, stepping forward to kiss away the scowl. "To be honest, I was just going to go over the material I have for my classes and maybe refine it a bit."

Draco nodded and kissed her again, deepening the intimacy within seconds.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled them together; her mind drifting to imagine what it would've been like if they could've done this as teenagers.

"Where are you?" He asked, pulling back a little breathlessly. "Are my kisses not powerful enough to distract the great mind of Hermione Granger?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and lightly slapped him across the chest.

"Back to the violence, too? I feel slighted." He smirked. "Of course, if you want to sneak into my room later, I'm sure you could make it up to me. You know… somehow."

"I'm here," Hermione promised, looking him directly in the eyes. "I was just wondering how different school would've been if we could have been sneaking around back then… pulling each other into alcoves, stealing away hours in the Room of Requirement, maybe being each other's firsts. I think I'd have liked that."

Draco gave a sad sort of smile. "It's a shame we couldn't give each other the time of day back then. Think of all the projects we could've done together too; we'd have broken academic records together. We'd have been Head Boy Girl in 7th year if it weren't for…"

"Don't. I know I was an advocate of saying his name in the past but that was only to diminish the fear he managed to instill in everyone. I just… I don't want him to taint what we have now. We grew up and found each other in spite of his plans, in some ways maybe even because of them. Whatever shreds of his soul are hanging around in the afterlife and maybe watching us, he has to live with that."

She smirked then and looked around, up and down as if trying to find those shredded soul fragments. "You hear that, you evil, psychotic bastard," she called louder… "Look what Potter's mudblood did… she snagged herself your youngest Death Eater and found the goodness in him. The goodness and the light that you couldn't destroy. I'm going to marry him, Riddle… I'm going to marry him and love him. We're going to have decades of everything you were incapable of having for yourself… happiness and fulfillment, family and life and children and love. I will spend my entire life giving him everything you tried to take away and there's nothing you can do about it."

When she cackled with a sound too reminiscent of Bellatrix, Draco decided it was time to interrupt her little 'telling off'. It seemed like something she'd needed to get out, and she'd pledged herself in such poignant and uplifting words, even sort of acknowledging that she loved him, which made his heart soar but he didn't want her rant to ruin their declarations.

"Hermione…" he interrupted, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Why don't we go and do those things you said? The things we never got to do. Will you let me pull you into dark alcoves and steal hours with you in the Room of Requirement?"

Her eyes glazed over for a moment when Draco started speaking, as if coming out of a trance, but she blinked and saw him clearly. She smiled, then. It was a beaming smile that told him she rather liked the idea he'd put forward. Just like that, her rather crazy little episode had passed.

"If we're going to relive the past, we have to do it properly."

"What do you mean? Uniforms and book bags? Making your hair huge again?"

Hermione nodded with a sly smile. "And making your hair all slick again… ferret."

Draco's eyebrows rose to his hairline. She wanted to roleplay? Seriously?

"Oh, bring it on… know-it-all!" He laughed.

She laughed back and then darted down the corridor, back toward the entrance of the Astronomy Tower. He heard her calling back to him… "you'll never catch me, Malfoy!" as he saw her robes transfigured, on the run, into the gray pleated skirt and cardigan that he remembered from their youth… only the skirt was shorter and 'oh for the love of Merlin', knee socks?

Without thinking of the consequences of students seeing them run around like hormonal idiots, Draco took off after his witch, also transfiguring his clothes into uniform. The green and silver tie was a little tight as he was more focused on not losing sight of his impulsive Gryffindor. Who knew which alcove she'd choose to dart into? There were over a hundred throughout the castle. As he ran, the tie tightened further still, until he had to stop for fear of choking.

He focused on a loosening spell and by the time he caught up to where Hermione had been less than a minute previously, she had vanished. He sighed with frustration. They were too old for this cat-and-mouse game but he couldn't deny there was a bit of fun in the chase. He looked around a saw note, just peeking out of an alcove which was covered by a great tapestry of three elongated blue lions on a white background in a sort of crest shape. He didn't recognise it from his own time at the school and assumed it was a new addition.

Malfoy,

There's only one place I could be hiding? The place where everything hides.

Can you figure it out? You'll need to know exactly where to look if you want to be my study partner this year.

With love,

Hermione Granger

Xx

Draco rolled his eyes. Could her messages be more mixed? She starts off by calling him 'Malfoy'; that's in character for circa 1996, so fine. Even the not-so cryptic description of The Room of Hidden Things is sort of in character, except she'd never have told him if this was really back in their school days. Then, she adds the 'with love' which is definitely outside of the roleplay; and kisses… in what world of 1990-anything would Hermione Granger have sent kisses to Draco Malfoy?

"At least I know she wants me to catch her," he told the three blue lions as he pocketed the note and headed for the seventh floor, wand lit with a medium lumos as the natural light was dimming and the sconces had yet to flare to life. His pace increased as he got closer to the seventh floor. Desire warred with tradition as his mind focused on pushing her against the wall and feeling her against him; watching those knee-sock-clad legs wrap around his middle.

He arrived at the blank expanse of wall quicker than he expected, considering the images his mind had conjured up were creating a rather impressive erection. Walking, never mind running, with such a handicap was always a difficult feat. It was even harder to focus on what he needed from the 'room'.

Thankfully, as he was still half focusing on Hermione's knee socks as well as reluctantly trying to picture the room which held memories of her saving his life and Crabbe falling to his death, after three passes along the blank stretch of corridor wall, a door started to materialize. Some deeply-buried turmoil was rising to the surface of his mind as the carvings and handles solidified. It fought with his plans for the evening and was successful in deflating some of his excitement.

He took a deep breath though, and fought the history that was trying to make a dash for the present in his mind and opened the door. What he saw before him was enough to knock all the air directly out his lungs. No longer was The Room of Hidden Things a higgledy-piggledy mish-mash of lost and forgotten bric-a-brac. Nor was it a charred remnant of an idiot's uncontrollable fiendfyre. The expansive room was lined with endless shelving units that he couldn't see the end of and each shelf was full but not brimming with tagged items that held a hashtagged alpha-numerical code and description. Draco was awed.

"Do you like it?" Hermione asked and he turned around to see her standing against the now once-again doorless wall. "It's what I spent the summer doing after the war. I'm rather proud of how it turned out actually. There's a catalog and everything."

"Impressive. I'm amazed it isn't a burnt husk. How did you…? I mean, what did you, erm… do?"

Draco had never been so verbally illiterate in his life. He shuddered to imagine what his mother would say. There were certain things that had been drilled into him as a child and one of them was to always know what to say, as well as when to say nothing at all.

"When I first got back here, the fire was still blazing but I'd prepared for that. There's really only one thing that can put out cursed fire."

"Which is?" Draco asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Blessed water. Come and have a seat over here," Hermione offered, leading him to a sitting area in front of a small lit fireplace. They took their seats and she began to speak. "Everytime I come here, I remember that night and how you felt behind me on my broom. But when I arrived tonight, I realized that probably wasn't what you would think when those doors came into view. So, I decided to change our plans for the evening. We can run around and play naughty-students-out-after-curfew tomorrow night."

Draco took a deep breath. "Thank you. You're right. The first thing I thought of was Crabbe. It kind of put a dent in my libido." She was… so incredibly understanding; insightful.

"Understandable," she smiled sadly. "He was recovered from the damage bytheway. His mother collected his remains and had a small service where they lived. It was whilst the trials were happening so I wasn't sure if you knew. Other than his mother and sister, I think the only other person who attended was Greg Goyle. I couldn't imagine what it would've been like for his mother to find what I found so I cast a few glamors. That way he at least looked… whole, you know? She wouldn't have to have nightmares about his, erm, pain."

Draco nodded, grateful. "That was nice of you. Why are you telling me all this? I mean, don't get me wrong, I appreciate it and I'm curious where you got 'blessed water' from but, I don't know why you're telling me."

"Because you and I are embarking on a life together; a life that will be full of knowing each other completely; a life of trust and love and children and forever. Given our past animosity, occasionally there may be the odd doubt about each other that crops up; a whisper of guilt or wishful thinking. It's natural given that we were on opposite sides of a war and we were raised to dislike each other. The thing is… I don't want to live like that and it would seep into Scorpius's consciousness and when we have other kids, they'd feel it too. I have therefore decided to lay all my ghosts and demons out before you and hope you will do the same.

There's a proverb in the muggle world, that 'a problem shared, is a problem halved'. I want us to halve each other's problems, Draco and double our blessings."

Draco nodded in agreement. There were some memories that he wasn't sure he'd ever want to share but he knew that if anyone could take the burden of knowledge about what his life had been, it would be Hermione Granger. She was the strongest, most forgiving person he'd ever met.

"I don't know where to start," he offered lamely.

"That's okay, I'll start," she offered with a smile before taking a very deep, steeling-herself breath. "I should probably tell you that in third year, I used a time turner to get to all my classes. It was issued by Dumbledore so that I could take all of the elective classes and sanctioned by the Ministry. It's also how Harry and I saved both Sirius Black and Buckbeak, the hippogriff. It was the first time Harry cast a fully corporeal patronus and I accidentally hit him in the head with a rock… sort of."

"That's not the kind of dark secret I was expecting but just to be clear, you're not nine months older than me, you're…?"

"Unofficially, about two years and a month. That's probably not even the earliest thing I should confess but you're right, we should get to the important stuff."

"No, no… I want to know the early stuff too. We can get into the bigger stuff later. Warm me up a bit with your youthful misdemeanors first."

She chuckled. "Ok, first year… let's see… erm, I set Snape's robes on fire during the first Quidditch match of the year; almost died at the hands of a troll. That was the first time I covered up for Harry and Ron. Told Minerva I'd read about trolls and thought I could handle it. The truth was I'd been crying in the toilets because Ron called me a nightmare and confessed his lack of surprise that I had no friends."

"Woah. That's a lot of drama for a first year at Hogwarts. I'm impressed."

"Second year was the infiltration of the Slytherin Common Room, of course. We drugged Crabbe and Goyle with a powerful sleeping draught slipped into floating muffins. I also brewed polyjuice in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom so we could all get in there and grill you about 'the heir of Slytherin'; at the time Ron thought it was you and I figured if it wasn't you then you might have a clue who it was. Harry was just worried that it was actually him, with his ability to talk to snakes at everything."

"Fuck. Did it work? Did you get in?"

"The boys did. I put Millicent's cat hair into my polyjuice and the transformation went a bit wonky."

Draco snorted. "Wonky how?"

"Cat ears, a tail, fur all over me, bloody whiskers."

Draco couldn't help it. He burst out into fits of laughter at the mental image. It was so easy to imagine her sprouting ears from all of her crazy curls and whiskers fluttering over her freckles; even a tail sprouting from above her… best not think about that, she was 13 at the time.

The retelling of her personal history with Hogwarts and her best friends caused much shock and laughter between the reminiscing couple. Draco had been particularly enthralled by Hermione's handing over of Dolores Umbridge to the centaurs and the subsequent flight of the Golden Trio and Co to the Ministry of Magic. He'd read some of the details in the child-friendly published version that appeared in the Quibbler, of course but to hear it in realistic terms from someone who was directly involved, was enthralling.

"So let me get this straight," Draco commented, still in awe, "You've flown on a hippogriff, a thestral and a dragon, yet you still won't mount a broom for flying around, playing Quidditch and just generally having fun?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. This was a question she'd been asked by Harry, Ron and Ginny multiple times. She could see the disconnect but she was a feet-firmly-on-the-ground sort of person, unless dire situations changed the circumstances.

"Basically. And I'm sure you'll recall that I have mounted a broom, several times, in fact. Not least of all was the time when I flew you out of this room as it was burning. I prefer apparition as a means of travel. The hippogriff was the only way to get to Sirius and let him escape the Ministry's clutches; the thestrals, well, the first time when we headed to the Ministry to save Sirius, we were all on them; and the second time, I was with Kingsley and more concerned about being killed by Death Eaters considering I looked like Harry at the time. As for the dragon, I was more preoccupied with releasing it from captivity and escaping Gringott's than being up in the air."

"You're incredible, you know that?" Draco said reverently, bringing a hand up to sweep an errant curl from her face. "You liberated hippogriffs and dragons, saved Potter every other week and Merlin knows what else you did between all your studies and 'light reading', all whilst you were still like thirteen, fourteen. I'm in fucking awe of you, Granger. Why the hell do you want me?"

"Oh, Draco, of course I want you. You're-"

"No! Listen to me, you are light and goodness and absolutely fucking heavenly. You deserve so much better than me. I'm not pushing you away here or trying to end what we have. I'm far too selfish to ever let you go now but, Gods, Hermione… whilst you were running around fighting the forces of darkness, what was I doing? I was fighting for them, being a stuck-up little, what was it you called me in third year? Being a stuck up little cockroach and belittling you whilst I did it."

He took a deep breath to calm down as his voice had gotten louder and Hermione was almost in tears at the strength of his declaration. "I'm never going to deserve you, Granger, and I just want you to know that I know that. It's been a hard lesson to learn and humbling myself before you like this feels like the only way to truly prove that I have learned it. I promise you, Hermione, I've learned my lesson. You're too good for me. I know that now."

Hermione's tears had started falling somewhere in the middle of this last bout of self-deprecation and when he paused for breath she launched herself at him. Her lips crashing against his, her hands grabbing his face to hold him in place. In spite of his own self-loathing, he responded quickly; his arms snaking around her waist to pull her closer.

Hermione deepened the kiss, her tongue licking against his lips for entrance and once granted the world slipped away for a few precious minutes of indulgent snogging before she pulled away, resting her forehead against his and sighing in contentment. Softly, she spoke her reassurances to the man she was already in love with.

"No one can make you feel less deserving of happiness than yourself, Draco. You have changed so much since childhood. If anything, I don't deserve the man you have become. You are an amazing father who has guided his son through his short life without a mother. You were a great auror and if you'd stayed in that career, you would've been a decorated Auror by now. Instead you chose to serve the children of our world instead of the adults and started a fantastic school for them to attend before Hogwarts which was something the Wizarding World was severely lacking. You've done incredible things; everything in your power to correct the wrongs you perpetrated as a child, and your family has followed your lead.

"You're raising Scorpius to be a smart, sweet and loving boy, and you're teaching him not to hide his emotions and feelings. You allow him to think for himself, and form his own opinions of people. You've helped eradicate blood prejudice, starting with the newest generation, and employing more muggleborn teachers and squibs. You're constantly surprising me by how much you've changed. I am so proud of the man you've become and who you are still becoming; in fact, I rather love you for it."

Draco felt overwhelmed with her impassioned speech and the love he could visibly see shining through her eyes; he felt tears welling up in his own. He wrapped his arms around her tighter and she hugged him back just as tightly. They held each other for a long time, not sure what else could be said but content to just be together in the moment.

It was Draco who initiated their next round of kisses. His lips slowly moving from Hermione's hair to ghost across her cheeks and jaw, to meet her welcoming mouth. He felt like a randy teenager again as their interlude grew longer, truly embracing their trip into their teenage selves. Their kisses turned hot and heavy within moments and before long they were clawing at each other's clothing. His hand slipping inside her 'school shirt', or roaming up her thigh when he dared to explore under her skirt. Her hands were just as busy, undoing his tie and the top button of his 'school shirt', running her hands through his hair and over his back.

It didn't take long for Hermione to begin a southward journey though, trailing her kisses from his mouth to his jaw, nibbling at his skin as she went, before moving further down his neck and sucking on the skin below his Adam's apple. He hoped it left a mark; the idea of being marked and claimed by Hermione made a surge of desire shoot directly to his cock, as did the cacophony of their whimpers and groans; the direct result of their amorous activities. As she moved to the other side of his neck, biting him none too gently, he couldn't decide if it hurt or not but he knew he liked it… a lot. He also knew he hadn't been this turned on in a long time. His cock was literally pulsing with want.

They'd agreed not to have sex until they were married but he was ready to throw that rule out the window; not that there were any windows in the room they were in. Hermione was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, kissing every inch of skin that she revealed. It seemed she was having trouble with a couple of stubborn buttons though - the problem with casting transfiguration whilst running and focusing on kneesocks, not buttons - as she growled with impatience deep in her throat at her inability to get his shirt off.

He chuckled and quickly divested himself of the garment with his wand, allowing her impression of a vampire to continue. She smiled as she felt his chuckle vibrate through his throat and against her mouth. Once his shirt was off, her kissing restarted; kissing, licking and nibbling her way down from his neck, where she had begun again, to his chest and slowly reaching his abdomen. She somehow managed to stay connected and lower herself to the floor, on her knees, settling herself between his parted legs. She heard his breath catch and smirked up at him, running the palms of her hands up his thighs slowly, before reaching to unbuckle his leather belt.

Licking her lips, she slipped the belt out of the loops of Draco's pants and ran it through her hands before tossing it aside. Draco was at a loss for words as Hermione reached to unbutton his trousers, one hand ghosting over where they were tightest. He gasped at the contact; not only was he very obviously aroused, as evidenced by the impressive bulge, but the way Hermione was staring at it, salivating, made him want to worship her in return. He'd dreamt of tasting her many times but he didn't want her to feel obligated to do this, regardless of her apparent desire to do so.

"You don't have to do this, Hermione," he gulped, as her fingertips grazed over his erection again before she pulled his trousers down. It almost seemed as though she did it to prove that she wanted to.

"I really, really want to," she answered and there was something pleading in her eyes as she looked at him. The whispered "please" as she stared at his hard, weeping cock with reverence whilst licking her lower lip sent a shock of realization through his system and he gasped, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily at the thought of her having a submissive side. His cock weeped at the very thought. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he nodded his acceptance and watched with stunned arousal as her face lit up with joy.

"Before you do," he began, needing to calm down before he let it be all over before it began, "I know this is a cheesy question and trust me I don't want to spoil the mood but just so I'm aware when the time comes…do you spit or swallow?"

He didn't know how else to phrase the question, but he really wanted to know the answer. Everything he knew about her up until the last thirty minutes, suggested she'd be a 'spitter' but she had a longing in her eyes that made him doubt his previous analysis. The thought of her swallowing… sweet Circe, he wanted to watch her throat bob as she ingested his essence..

"I suppose you'll have to wait and see," she answered coquettishly as her hand reached into his zipper to cup his throbbing erection. He groaned as her fingers wrapped around him exploratorily, unable to help himself at the myriad of sensations that danced along every rigid inch. She was a complete tease, he'd give her that and he loved it. He barely kept himself from grabbing her head and speeding things up. He resisted, unsure how she'd react to being dominated like that without some sort of discussion.

The first tentative lick, which dragged from base to tip, pulled him back from his imaginings and he refocused on what Hermione and her devilish tongue were doing. Looking down at the animated mass of curls, he could tell she had his cock pulled completely out of his pants and was still dragging ticklish sensations over his leg with one hand whilst her other one was wrapping confidently around the base of his shaft. He was above-average in length, by several inches and wondered if she'd be able to take it all. She was gently pumping the base of his shaft as her tongue continued to explore. Every touch and movement was delicate, teasing, ticklish. If this kept up much longer, he was going to go mad.

He knew what she was doing. She was sensitizing him. Making sure the lightest, featheriest movement would make his eyes roll into the back of his head. And she was succeeding. His eyes rolled, his fists grasped at the sofa fabric and he was seconds away from just pushing her head down on him when she next lifted her lips up to the tip of him.

It was unnecessary though. Just as he was about to lift a hand from the sofa, it was as if she sensed the end of his patience and opened her mouth to descend upon him fully. Dragging her lips slowly down his shaft until they met her hand. She wasn't sucking, wasn't hollowing her cheeks and constricting around him like he wanted, like he somehow knew she wanted too. She was still playing with him; enveloping him in the wet heat that was the cavern of her mouth and allowing him to savor just that sensation before moving on.

She moaned, presumably at the enjoyment she got from messing with him, but she also removed her hand at the same time and descended further. The layered sensations of moving into her throat and the vibrations from her voice, almost had him coming from nothing more than pre-suction warm ups. He felt like he was fourteen again with the same amount of control that new hormones had once afforded him. He couldn't watch her anymore, he'd come in seconds.

"Fuck, Granger. You're killing me," he managed to enunciate through a tried and tested method of delaying the inevitable - imagining his parents doing exactly the same thing he and Granger were doing. It kept a sexual element so he didn't deflate completely but the mental participants killed off the imminent orgasm. He wasn't ready for this to be over.

He felt her attempting to smirk at his comment, a curving of her lips around his girth, then she was dragging back up - with her teeth, fuck - gently. His last strands of sanity were vanquished as she finally descended again with hollowed cheeks and his eyes squeezed shut to fight the feeling of her hot, wet and constricting mouth. He was going to die, he just knew it. She had him panting within seconds… or was it minutes.

It was the most intense blow job of his life. All that sensitizing she'd done meant his whole body was practically shaking with the need for release. She'd been bobbing her head up and down for about a minute, never releasing him, never removing the pressure of her hollowed cheeks, taking him into her throat every third or fourth second. She was humming now too and had that wanding hand grabbing at his arse. She was like something out of a book; too good to be true.

He couldn't resist anymore, he needed a little control. His hand came to the back of her head and tangled in her curls to hold her in place whilst her lips were pressed into his own curls. There was a slight gagging sound before her right hand left his arse and his hand was magically re-routed from her head and along with his other one, stuck to the sofa.

All sensation left his body as she moved back from him and took a breath.

"When I need your help, love, I'll ask for it. Now, keep your hands where I put them like a good boy and I won't have to stop. Do you want me to start all over again?"

She was slightly breathless as she spoke but she wasn't smiling. She was chastising him for trying to take control. All he could do was shake his head; he wanted to get to the main event; he couldn't take any more teasing. It was strangely titillating to be so controlled by her though. She'd wandlessly and wordlessly cast a sticking charm to keep him in place.

"Good. Now, I'll probably rev things up a bit more as I keep going. If your hips thrust involuntarily, that's fair enough but if it happens too much, I will glue your arse to the sofa too. Do we understand each other?"

Her eyes held a certain glint, like she wanted him to understand more than what she was saying. And he did. She was into control-games. He could get behind that. Astoria had been completely submissive but he didn't mind Hermione wanting control in this. It was actually quite a turn on. He nodded his ascent, praying she didn't glue his arse to the sofa; that would be a travesty.

She moved so quickly, he choked on his breath as he was suddenly once more engulfed by her mouth and throat. She was somehow pulsing her throat on his head; swallowing nothing most likely. Was she foreshadowing what was to come? Would she swallow?

One hand returned to his arse, the other moving to cup, fondle and tickle his balls, rolling them around her fingers as her tongue slid over his shaft, fighting with the constriction of her mouth. The break had been good for his control but it was fading again, and fast. Every part of him she was touching felt like it wanted to explode and was getting bloody close to doing so.

He could feel his balls trying to pull up but she was pulling them back down again, trying to prolong his experience. He was on the verge of whining that he didn't want to prolong it, he just wanted to come but the memory of her gluing his hands to the sofa sent a shot of something molten through him. She was in complete control and he loved it.

His hips thrust upward without his permission and she coughed around him a little clearing her throat and squeezed tighter on his balls. A warning. He could feel her dragging her teeth back up his shaft again, more roughly than before. She was testing what he liked. His hips had a mind of their own now. He'd given over control to Hermione and she was playing him like a fiddle. His reactions weren't his own anymore.

When she slid back down his throbbing shaft, hard this time, his arse lifted without warning as the tip of his cock reached forward to meet her throat. She gave no warning either, as she cast another silent and wandless sticking charm. His arse suddenly became completely stationary and very stuck. Her hand increased pressure around his balls, literally squeezing and her top lip pressed against his pubes. Her tongue was under his dick and snaked out to massage between his shaft and sac.

Her last move, as he could tell she was gearing up to her finale, and his, was to throw as much suction at him as possible. He didn't know how she could breathe. He was pressed into the back of her throat again and she was pulsing her mouth along his shaft and swallowing so her muscles rubbed against the head of cock. How she controlled so many different motions at once was beyond him but his brain short-circuited when she hummed again and he came with a roar, unbefitting a Slytherin. Unable to move his hands or hips, he had no choice but to just let her milk every drop of his emission.

He almost didn't notice that she was a millisecond away from showing whether she spit or swallowed but a thread of consciousness returned just as she moved away, looking like she had a mouth-full, and tipped her head back. If he'd had the energy, he'd have laughed at what she did. She fucking gargled. He had no idea how long she did it for. He was practically senseless and time was too obscure a concept. Then, to his complete surprise, if he was capable of showing such a thing, with a large gulp, she swallowed, licked her lips and smiled at him as if he'd hung the sun.

"Yummy," she commented, to his complete bafflement. "That was fun. Have you had any pineapple in the last day or so? You tasted really good."

A bit confused, he nodded slowly, unable to remove a soppy grin from his face, "Brix has been experimenting with pineapple for the last week. She seems taken with tropical cuisine at the moment. Dinner time has been interesting. You're so pretty."

Hermione smiled at him indulgently and moved to sit on the couch beside him, wandlessly releasing him from the sticking spells and casting a light cleansing charm. She leaned her head against his shoulder and did her best not to laugh as he began petting and nuzzling his face into her mass of curls. He was acting so loopy; it was as if he'd never had a blow job before.

Hermione assumed that couldn't be the case. He'd been married for Merlin's sake, and everyone had known of his reputation at school - as something of a serial monogamist - he'd gone through girlfriends like Hermione went through books, from third year onwards, at least. She quashed the urge to ask him. She didn't really want to think of other witches doing that to him.

They sat snuggled on the sofa for quite a while, comfortable to just sit and enjoy each other in soft silence, the fire crackling and centuries of cataloged lost treasures surrounding them. It was peaceful and intimate and Hermione fell more in love with her future husband as he offered the whispered but giddy praise of a man utterly besotted with his fiancée.

"Do you want me to return the favor?" Draco suddenly asked out of nowhere.

She honestly could barely wait to feel his tongue and feeling his throbbing cock in her mouth had certainly left her wanting but they were in the middle of a nice sleepy lull that she wasn't ready to break. It had been an emotional but good afternoon and she'd knelt at the feet of Draco Malfoy and made him see stars. That was enough exertion for today. They were building up to their wedding night, after all. If they got 'everything but…' out of the way in one session, they'd break tradition well before they ever got down the aisle.

"Maybe later, or tomorrow. I'm warm and you're comfortable."

"But…"

"It's not a competition, Draco. I can have several in one go anyway so it would hardly be fair to keep score. Let's just say I'm giving you a head start."

Draco was quiet for a few moments before squeezing her closer and stating, "literally."

They both laughed softly before drifting into a contented sleep.