Saturday

The first rays of sunlight woke Hermione from a pleasant dream. The tingle of fingertips brushing over the features of her face still clung to her, even as her eyes fluttered open. Merlin , she must have been touch-starved if those soft dream caresses had her feeling loved. She almost loathed parting with slumber, but she had always been an early riser with no prospect of falling asleep again. Since it was the weekend, though, she indulged in the remnants of her dream. Closing her eyes, her fingers traced over her brows, along her temple, past her cheekbones to her where they swiped first over the top then the bottom lip. A meow tore her from her longing thoughts.

"Good morning, Draco." Separating her fingertips from her lips, she reached over and scratched behind his ears. Draco purred and pressed his head into her hand. The clock chimed 6 o'clock, which left her with plenty of time before she had to leave for her parents' in Hampstead.

After the war, Hermione had set out to find her parents in Australia and lift the memory charm she had placed on them. Thankfully, Wendell and Monica Wilkins were rather rare names and therefore easily found in the register. Sadly, it turned out not to be the happy reunion Hermione had hoped for. Before her departure, she had spoken extensively with a mind healer about possible permanent memory loss, for which the chances were slim but never null. Memory loss, however, was not the problem.

The dire situation in Britain had not gone unnoticed by the Wilkins'. They might have thought it to be mere terrorist attacks when they still identified themselves as the Wilkins', but her parents, Dr and Drs Granger, quickly figured out the true cause: magic. Hand in hand with that revelation came question upon question about Hermione's involvement. While her parents had never thought ill of Harry before, knowing some of his background, especially his horrible treatment at the hands of his aunt and uncle, they developed resentment against the boy their daughter had been willing to sacrifice her life for. Their ever lingering disappointment with and suspicion of Hermione, was a far worse blow than the prolonged torment she would have had to suffer, had her parent's memories been irreparably damaged.

Ever since then, her parents doubted everything even remotely related to the magical world that Hermione told them about. Hermione had caught them time and time again trying to entangle her in lies and thus betray herself. The mind games they played with her to get the whole truth, for they knew Hermione had repeatedly lied by omission, were frustrating and tiring, but Hermione put up with them. She had brought this upon herself, after all.

In addition to their distrust, they had recently started to hint at easy entry jobs in Muggle society. With Hermione's ongoing complaints about the ministry and its antiquated ways, the belief that she could have a better life as a Muggle had manifested in her parents' minds.

Not wanting to dwell on the well-meant advice her parents might give her during this visit, Hermione used the time to further brainstorm on ways to fill the gaping hole in her budget. All the while, Draco kept her company, sitting in her lap, observing her calculations closely. Every time she came up short - yet again! - of her minimum financial needs, and muttered irritably, he would nuzzle her hand. When her wand alarm went off, reminding her to leave, he did his trademark, "please don't leave" spiel, but there was no helping it, she had to go.

"It's just brunch. I'll be back in no time," she assured him and unlike when it came to work, she knew it to be true. She loved her parents, she really did, but spending time with them had become taxing, best enjoyed in small doses.

One minute longer and Hermione would have snapped. Work advice she could take, love advice she could not. Throwing her handbag into the corner of the room, she narrowly missed hitting Draco, who jumped out of the way just in time. Hesitating momentarily, his gaze wandering between the handbag and her, Draco went to her for his usual greeting snuggle.

"Not now, Draco," she puffed out and stomped into the kitchen. From her cabinet, she grabbed a glass and her bottle of Firewhiskey. She despised the alcohol. For washing down her anger, however, it was just right.

"Your cousin Clara is getting married ." Pitching her voice higher, Hermione imitated her mother's comment that had heralded the worst hour of conversation with her parents, so far. Uncorking the bottle, she poured herself a generous helping of the amber liquid.

"But isn't Clara three years younger than you, Hermione?" Merlin , her father was a bad actor! Yes, Clara was indeed three years younger than her, they all knew that!

Hermione swallowed a big gulp of the Firewhiskey, wincing at the burning sensation in her throat. Her parents had then pulled out the invitation to the wedding along with the beautiful pictures of the engagement photoshoot. The way her mother had talked about her cousin's engagement had made it seem like getting married was the epitome of success.

When her mother had finally finished oohing and aahing over Clara and her fiance gazing at each other lovingly in different settings, her father had dealt the next blow: a new dentist would soon join them in their practice. That in itself was perfectly fine with Hermione, she knew her parents wanted to cut back their hours. Her father, however, had not gone on to talk about their new colleagues' qualifications. No, he had informed Hermione in length about the new dentist's single status, his looks and his hobby.

"He's a real bookworm, just like you, Hermione." What a coincidence ! Hermione took another swig of Firewhiskey.

His obvious attempt to pique her interest in this eligible bachelor, with whom Hermione had so much in common, had brought her blood close to boiling point.

Their staged matchmaking trap disguised as a family brunch had reached its climax when the ring of the door bell had cut through their conversation.

"Oh, I wonder who that might be," Hermione spat, pulling a face and lowering her voice in mocking her father's false surprise.

Her parents had had the audacity to invite their new colleague over under some pretext. It had been a move straight out of Molly Weasley's handbook. The moment the poor guy had walked into their dining room, cake from the expensive French bakery down the street in hand, Hermione had shot up from her chair and excused herself with a, "I can't leave my cat alone for this long." For all she cared, her parent's new partner could gladly see her as a crazy cat lady.

"But Hermione, Alexander has brought cake from the bakery! One slice won't hurt." With her final imitation of her mother, Hermione threw her head back, finishing her glass of Firewhiskey. Setting down her glass onto the counter with a loud clang , Hermione looked to where Draco sat at her feet, meowing, begging for attention.

"Oh, Draco, you are the only man in my life and I wouldn't want it any other way." Hermione got down on her knees and opened her arms wide for him to climb into her lap. Purring, he snuggled into her, brushing his head into the crook of her neck again and again, consoling her in her disappointment with her parents.

Sunday

After her usual biweekly Sunday lunch at the Weasleys' Hermione felt tense. For the first time in months, Percy had attended the family meal. Although their short fling had ended amicably, it remained strange to sit with him at one table, chatting about something other than work.

Whenever he asked someone, "Pass the potatoes, please?" or "Could I have some more carrots, please?" the sound of him begging her to let him cum surged from the depths of her memories. It was his "Please. Please. Please ." that had awoken something inside of her, that had opened Hermione's eyes.

She revelled in having the control over someone's pleasure, to give it or deny it. Her relationship with Percy, who keened and whimpered so nicely while holding back until she allowed him to come, sadly did not last long. Bad conscience about taking his little brother's ex away from him, kept nagging at Percy and they had to end it. Ron and she had separated consensually long before her fling with Percy had even started, but that changed nothing for him. He found a better, guilt free match with Pansy Parkinson.

Hermione did not really mourn the relationship, if she was honest. What she was missing, however, was someone who would submit fully to her. Someone who would be a good boy, who would beg, who would try his hardest to please her.

She longed for a "good boy", not a "dirty boy". Investigating further on her newfound interests , she had dug deep into sexual dynamics.

If one searched long enough, and she had, one could even find certain establishments in Wizarding London. Although they were expensive, they had a thorough admission procedure to ensure the privacy of their clients. Succubus was the one she had frequented for a long time, where she had gathered experience. There she played with other subs, one of them being Cormac McLaggen. He begged and cried, just like she had wished him to do, but his degradation kink was not something she could get into. What had drawn her in during her sexual awakening with Percy was the utter bliss in his eyes as she called him a "good boy" and allowed him to finally cum.

Arriving in her flat, she headed straight for her bedroom, locking the door so that Draco could not open it to squeeze in behind her. She needed some alone time, badly . A silencing charm put an end to his complaints. From the back of her bedside table drawer, she pulled out the satin bag holding her vibrator. Wizarding society had caught up with Muggles in that kind of industry. Besides the vibration and clit suction settings, it also provided a variety of position options. Hermione's go-to was the cowgirl, for which the base of her vibrator would expand into a quasi torso-like shape. This way, she could straddle it and support herself with her hands.

Merlin , how she missed having a man squirming beneath her as she took pleasure from him. To immerse herself, she panted: "good boy", "just a little longer", "you want to come?", "so good for me" and "be patient." If only she could make the base shiver beneath her, instead of the limited thrusting modes, it would improve her experience. She altered between grinding and impaling herself, thrusting her hips more forcefully the closer she got to release. At the peak of desire, she screamed, "Come for me! Come for me! Come for me!" as the tight knot in her abdomen burst in an explosion of ecstasy, waves upon waves washing over her.

The vibrator reverted back to its original shape, sliding out of her with a gushing sound, her arousal drenching her sheets. Merlin , that had been long overdue, but she cursed herself for being stingy when buying that vibrator, foregoing the cumshot feature. The feeling of hot cum shooting deep within her would have been the icing on the cake.

Afterwards, she practically melted into her bathtub, after-orgasm bliss still running through her. Since she had upset her furry friend by locking him out of her bedroom, he was noticeably absent. Seizing the opportunity she topped her Sunday indulgence off by petting her pussy . The wheezing and whimpering were even more vivid in her mind this time. Towards the end, she could have sworn she actually heard a grunt, but then again her brain had turned into complete mush, hauling her over the edge with another screaming orgasm.

Drenched of all energy, she wrapped herself into her bathrobe and returned to her bedroom, where she had yet to clean up the mess she had made earlier, which was quite a lot more than she usually created, all wet with flecks of gooey white.

Monday

Monday, finally brought the first good bit of news in a long time for Hermione's werewolf rights project. An anonymous benefactor had made a generous donation to her department, naming the werewolves as the species that should profit the most. The sum was high enough that Hermione was even left with money to spare. With the budgeting issue taken off her plate, she could focus on the important tasks at hand. Not having to worry about money any longer, Hermione was finally back on track, able to continue with her project schedule and catch up with things that she had gotten behind on.

Good Godric , she even found the time for a little shopping spree in Diagon Alley that she had put off for weeks. Sure, Neville and Hannah's baby girl was not due until next month, but Hermione hated getting things done at the last minute. Ginny had offered to accompany her months ago, yet, her busy schedule had kept her from taking her up on the offer.

As it stood, Ginny had gotten their present for the baby quite some time ago. Nevertheless, she still accepted Hermione's owl readily, showing up at the door to Hermione's office just in time for her lunch break. To not waste precious time, Ginny had prepared sandwiches for them that they could eat on their way to the little boutique Ginny had fallen in love with while being pregnant with James.

They browsed the clothing racks, indecisive whether they should go for more floral patterns as a nod to Neville being the Herbology professor or lean more towards allusions to Hannah taking over the Three Broomsticks. In the end, Hermione bought a cute yellow onesie with a white flower pattern and a white cardigan with a yellow broom brooch. As her wand clock reminded her that her break was sadly over, Hermione left Ginny, who stood transfixed in front of a variety of pink frilly dresses, bemoaning that her second child was yet another boy, behind in the store. Knowing Ginny long enough, Hermione was certain that Harry would not be spared from a discussion about having another child that evening.

Back in the ministry, Hermione checked off multiple items on her to-do list, giggling at every single one of them. From here on out, it should be smooth sailing and that was good for granting werewolves equal rights to wizards, which was long overdue.

She had not felt as relaxed after work like that in… well, she could not remember. Her good mood was off the charts. If only she knew who the anonymous benefactor was, Hermione would hug him, kiss him even, so grateful was she.

At home, she for once surpassed Draco in his joy to see her, calling his name immediately after the green flames of the Floo vanished around her. If possible, he came running even quicker than usual, jumping into her awaiting arms. Between pressing kisses onto his forehead, Hermione murmured, "I missed you, too" and "so, so much" into his fur. After a short while, she was afraid she might squeeze him too tightly to herself. His purring and affectionate licks of her cheek, however, proved her wrong.

That evening they dined like kings and queens, since Hermione had felt like celebrating. Wanting to share her joy with her feline companion, she had gotten a premium wagyu steak for herself and only the finest piece of beef for Draco.

Sated, the rich flavour of her meal still lingering on her tongue, Hermione cleared the table to make space for wrapping her gifts for Neville and Hannah's baby girl. Like most shops on Diagon Alley, the little baby boutique offered a wrapping service, but Hermione liked to do the task by herself. It was one of the few things she still liked to do manually, the Muggle way. There was something calming about cutting the paper to size and folding it.

While Hermione had been predominantly concerned with the pattern of the onesie in the shop, letting her fingers stroke over the soft fabric in the comfort of her flat, made her muse about motherhood. For a short time, she had thought about having children with Ron, but he had been enough of a child for her not to want a second one to take care of. Neither Percy nor Cormac had awoken the wish for children inside her, being more a sexual outlet than anything.

"If I wasn't such a sexual deviant, this might have been for my own child," she commented into the quiet of the room, a bitter laugh following suit.

After Ron, Percy and Cormac, Hermione had dated Neville. Sweet, sweet Neville. He had been good for her, had been open to trying out her sexual fantasies after he realised that their vanilla sex just did not cut it for her. However, Neville had not been ready for the kind of endless teasing she loved to inflict on her partners.

Their first visit to Succubus would also be their last. Hermione would forever feel horrible about herself for not noticing his discomfort. That night, she had relied on him using his safeword, but Neville in his limitless want to please her had abstained. For hours she had teased and denied him, until he nearly went crazy, breaking down and crying the moment they were back in his flat.

Their relationship had not lasted very long after that fateful night and Hermione remained single up until now. It was not for the lack of wanting to be in a relationship that she did not throw herself back into the dating pool but it was her fear that by opening up she would fail miserably again. Hermione was ready for commitment if only she could find the right person.

Next to her, Draco was standing on his back paws, leaning onto her knee. With one hand she pulled him onto her lap and patted his head.

"It's such a weird thought: me, being a mother." Gazing up at her curiously, his eyes shining bright, Draco meowed as if in protest.

"Huh? You don't think it's weird?" Amused by his reaction, Hermione giggled and scratched his chin.

"I guess, I still have plenty of time to become a mum, should the right guy ever come around."

Tuesday

When Ron exited the fireplace only shortly after Hermione on Tuesday evening, Draco hissed in lieu of a greeting.

"Draco, stop that!" she chastised the tomcat, but Draco only doubled his efforts in keeping Ron away from her, snarling and yowling.

" Draco ?! You called your cat Draco? Like Malfoy? Why, Mione? Why?" Ron's face contorted into a mask of disgust, the corners of his mouth pulled down and his nose scrunched up.

"He's not my cat, Ron. I merely keep an eye on him while Theo is on holiday." Holiday was the most acceptable and plausible alternative to: "on a secret mission for the ministry" that she could come up with .

"Always thought the guy was funny, Mione. I never understood how you became friends with him in the first place. So, Nott named his cat after Malfoy?"

"Not exactly… I don't actually know how Theo named him… Uh… so I decided to name him," she finished lamely, regretting her poor choice of words and overall lack of eloquence when Ron snorted and plopped down on her couch.

"So, you did name him after all."

"Well, I think it suits him seeing as he doesn't like you." She smirked and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Malfoy doesn't like you either, Mione," he deadpanned and crossed his arms over his chest, a satisfied grin on his lips.

" Malfoy didn't like me, but Draco sure does, don't you?" She bent down towards the tomcat, scratching him behind his ears, and picked him up as he begged her to do so. With Draco in her arms, she went and sat down beside Ron, summoning them something to drink. The cat rubbed against her, even more insistently than usual. It got so much that it became a nuisance, a struggle really.

"Good Godric, Draco that's enough," she huffed and pulled him off her, setting him down on the floor.

"Clingy little monster." Ron attempted to pat Draco's head but the cat crouched down, his back arched high and his mouth opened in a silent hiss.

"Okay, okay! I won't touch you." Drawing back from the tomcat, Ron reached for his bottle of Butterbeer instead.

"So which episode were we upto?" Just like his father, Ron was amazed by certain Muggle inventions. While Arthur's fascination with electricity and bath ducks would never subside, Ron loved trashy TV series. For his sake, Hermione had programmed a continuous recording of Eastenders on her recorder. The long-running soap opera was as trashy as Hermione could endure a series to be. Taking a swig of his Butterbeer and licking the foam off his upper lip, Ron sighed and relaxed back against the couch.

"It's been way too long since we got to spend some time together. Just the two of us ." Something did not sit right with Hermione about the way he had stressed 'us'. Right after their breakup Ron had a terrible track record of trying to "rekindle the flame" as he liked to call it. After his third attempt, she had given him a no-nonsense speech, not sugar-coating anything about all the reasons his attempts had been in vain and would forever stay that way.

That had solved the problem with his unwanted advances… until today? Hopefully, she was just imagining things. Pointedly ignoring the nagging feeling that Ron would try his "it just wasn't our time back then" spiel on her again, Hermione grabbed the remote. Maybe, just maybe, she navigated to her recordings by pressing the buttons just the tiniest bit harder than was necessary.

Two episodes in and she could not gloss over it any longer. Ron had inched ever so steadily closer towards her. His voice had shifted from his regular tone to the one strictly reserved for the bedroom. Any time he spoke now, Draco hissed, cutting him off. Her furry friend had retired to his Slytherin green pillow, scrutinizing Ron's every move. The tomcat's display of displeasure only slowed Ron's advances down for a moment, though, before he switched things up.

Hermione had already used her cautionary "Ron", very similar to when Molly scolded him, but to no avail. He had laughed it off each time, retreating just to pounce harder on his next attempt.

When Ron tried to put his arm around her shoulders with a ridiculously badly played yawn, Draco took it as an opportunity to catapult himself onto the couch with two long jumps. It all happened so fast that Hermione only managed to pry the tomcat off Ron, after he had already gotten a few vicious scratches and bites in.

Hermione knew him to be feisty, but never had she seen him that aggressive, trying to wriggle free of her hold to mutilate Ron even more. Afraid for Ron's safety, despite her deep down thinking that he had deserved it, she carried her saviour into her bedroom.

"What in the name of Merlin and Morgana has gotten into you, Draco? I don't know you to be like that and I will not tolerate it," she berated her cat, brandishing her finger like a mother would to chastise her child. At the change of her tone, turning hard, Draco flattened his ears and meowed pleadingly. It almost broke her heart, but she would not encourage bad behaviour.

"No, mister! You brought this on yourself!" And with that she locked him in, his sad cries making her cringe, making her doubt whether she had acted too harshly.

A quick series of healing spells, thankfully, undid the damage Draco had done to Ron.

His never-ending woeful yowls put a right dampener on Ron and as soon as the episode was over he left.

"It's been a rough day, better get some sleep so that I can get a good start tomorrow," was the poor excuse he gave her, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck before the green flames took him.

Accompanied by Draco's whining, Hermione penned a letter to Theo. She started off by inquiring whether he did well and whether he would be returning in the foreseeable future. Following it up with a description of Draco's behaviour that evening, she asked if it was common for him to be this hostile against strangers. Sealing the letter in an envelope, she put it into her handbag. She would send it via interdepartmental mail, the ministry post office having their special ways of delivering mail to the Unspeakables.

When she unlocked her bedroom door, her will to be mad with Draco any longer dissipated at seeing him looking so sorry. He performed some kind of apologetic ritual in front of her, and all Hermione could do was sigh and scoop him up into her arms.

"Oh my, I can't stay mad at you. But you have to promise me never to do that again, understood?" As he agreed with a meow, Hermione placed a kiss on his head, snuggling him even closer to her.

"Good boy," she cooed.

Wednesday

The boost she had gotten from no longer having to worry about the budget was wonderful while it lasted, but met its early end on Wednesday. The hearing of her new law in front of the Wizengamot had put an abrupt stop to her smooth sailing. Of course, she had gone into the introduction of her law knowing that even the less conservative members, of which there were only few, might not agree with her reasoning right away.

The unanimous rejection and harsh critique, however, she had not seen coming. They had taken her law and tore it to shreds in front of her very eyes, leaving no paragraph untouched. All in all, their verdict was that her law was unpassable. The changes she would have to apply would take her months… years maybe, and even then it just was not the "right time", yet. The downtalking from left and right, Hermione could stomach. What had her fuming was the well-intended advice to better invest her energy for another cause, "Nifflers, maybe?" The Wizengamot elder had been lucky that their stands were so much higher than the hearing circle or else Hermione might have physically assaulted him.

With a laundry list of necessary alterations, she might as well toss her first draft and start over from scratch. Only stopping by the cafeteria to grab a sandwich, Hermione made camp in her office, taking a bite whenever she felt fatigued. Going on this way, she had finished the last bite of her meager sandwich by eight p.m. Like so often, she was the last from her department to leave, the other desks in their office long abandoned by her colleagues.

Exhausted, she trudged towards the departure hall, sinking into the cold hearth, weakly throwing Floo powder down. Draco found her slumped down in her fireplace, not willing to move just yet. First he yowled at her, his way of saying, "come out of there so I can greet you."

Then, after she made no effort to exit, he carefully stepped on the least dirty spots and crawled into her lap. Despite his caution, soot was sticking to his tail, a dark stain on his flawless white fur. The blemish and his discomfort from having to join her in the fireplace, distracted Hermione long enough that her shoulders relaxed and a short giggle escaped her lips.

"Let's get you out of here." Stepping into her living room, she cast a quick spell on both of them to dust them off, not wanting to spread the ashes around her flat.

Draco meowed a little "What's wrong?", nuzzling her neck as he loved to do upon her return from work.

"Oh, Draco, I honestly don't even know where to start." With a sigh, she freed her hair from its bun, letting her locks cascade over her shoulders. She plopped down onto her couch and with a circular motion of her wand, a wine glass together with the corresponding bottle of Merlot appeared on the table. The bottle uncorked itself and the dark red liquid flowed into the glass.

"Ugh, the Wizengamot is just the most conservative collection of wizards and witches. Their only goal seems to be holding Wizarding society back from progressing." It was a fact she had said aloud countless times, ever since she had started her career in the ministry. Snatching her glass of wine, some of the liquid spilled over her couch, staining it. A spell would take care of it later, so Hermione continued her rant.

"I bet they'd revert back to medieval rules if you let them!" she spat and took a gulp of wine. Draco meowed in agreement, which earned him a scratch behind his ears. The more she shared her grievances about the Wizengamot with her feline friend, the more she got worked up.

The wine only accelerated her ascent into rage. At the height of her anger, following up her irritation at the Niffler comment, Draco nudged her wand as if to say, "you should have cursed him into next week." His eyes were pressed into little slits, glaring viciously like he was ready to have her back. The thought of hexing the Wizengamot had her cackle in glee. There was hardly any member that would not profit from a good hex here and there.

"Hex them, you mean?" Hermione inquired, smirking against the rim of her glass. "I think a good punch in the face would be best. There's no feeling quite like your fist connecting with your bully's nose." She punched the air, Draco imitating her by slashing his claws through nothing.

"You know, I once punched your namesake." The memory of Malfoy's shocked face made the corners of her lips pull upwards.

"It was justified, of course. I would even argue that it was good for his character development." She giggled into her glass, sipping the remaining wine. Draco, however, was not amused, he stared at her with wide eyes, sitting unmoving on her lap.

"Oh, come on. When I say I'd love to throw hands at the Wizengamot you're all game, but Malfoy ?" A miserable meow was her answer, making her feel bad about saying it.

Sighing, she set her empty glass aside and hooked her thumbs beneath his front legs, hoisting him up so they were at eye level.

"I guess you are right. No more punching Malfoy. Last time I saw him, he had definitely changed for the better." She raised her brows, hoping she had regained his favour once more. A curt meow - "I'll forgive you for now" - mended the situation and she bumped foreheads with him. Feeling cheeky, she added with a grin, "I won't take back what I said about his character development, though."

Thursday

With her alarm playing its lively tune, Hermione woke up full of energy. She was not one to give up easily and was certainly looking forward to proving the damned Wizengamot wrong. People did not call her 'the brightest witch of her age' for no reason, although Hermione hated that title. During her meeting with the Wizengamot, she had kept a list of all the flaws of her law that they had pointed out and would tackle them one by one.

Venting to Draco the previous night had helped lift her spirits and recharge her batteries. To get a good head start, Hermione clustered them into related topics in between taking bites of her breakfast toast, asking aloud whenever she was swaying between one cluster or the other to which Draco twitched either his left or right ear, helping her make a decision.

Judging from his apparent intellect, there had to be some Kneazle in the mix within his family tree somewhere down the line. For every decision he helped her with, she scratched behind his ears, cooing, "good boy." The endearment had not lost its charm, but since he probably realized that she was preoccupied with her clustering, he refrained from begging for belly rubs. Instead, Draco purred even louder than usual, rubbing his head enthusiastically against her palm. By seven a.m., the time she always left for the ministry, Hermione contemplated the thought of whether bringing your cat to work for mental support would bode well with her department head. It probably would not.

So, she picked up Draco and kissed him goodbye onto his head.

"I'll see you tonight." A final hug and yearning meow later, the green flames of the Floo closed around her, transporting her to her workplace.

The day was spent prioritising her tasks and making a battle strategy on how to tackle them best. Her priorities put into order, Hermione vanished in the archives to research. It was tedious work but if she found what she was looking for it would help her gain the higher ground with the Wizengamot on her next hearing.

The downside of the archives was its never-changing atmosphere. Like within this one, one would think only an hour had passed, while in reality the sun had set a long time ago. It was well past ten pm as Hermione's eyelids became heavier, the words blurring before her eyes. She had stayed considerably longer than she had planned to, but her research had given her new ideas on how to counter several of the Wizengamot's arguments. Still, it was time to go home.

Tired but satisfied, she leaned her head against the wall, the quiet rattling of the lift lulling her in, her eyes falling shut momentarily. With a deep groan she dropped the heavy files from the archive onto her desk. One hand massaged the back of her neck, aching from her reading posture, while she rubbed her eyes with the other.

The dark green envelope, poised on her Order of Merlin award, caught her eye just in time before she left her office.

Three interwoven M s adorned the wax seal. That seal was used by only one department within the whole Ministry of Magic: Mysteries. Hermione immediately recognized the handwriting as Theo's. Although it had been just this Tuesday that she had written to him regarding Draco's misbehaviour, she had already forgotten about it. She pocketed the letter, eager to return home. Draco greeted her the moment she appeared, demanding all the hugs, cuddles, ear scratches and belly rubs he could get, as compensation for leaving him alone for so long. After satisfying Draco's desire for attention, she got around to reading Theo's letter.

Dear Hermione,

Thank you for thinking of me. I am doing well, although my return has been unexpectedly delayed and I do not feel confident on giving you a set date just yet.

50 points for Gryffindor by the way for figuring out his name, Draco indeed.

It saddens me to hear that our furry friend has misbehaved so badly. Usually, he is such a good boy, always eager to please. He does need strict rules, and regrettably, discipline from time to time. Knowing you, though, I am sure you can provide him with both.

Just give him a little time to adjust and come out of his shell.

I think you will find that he is a good match for you.

Who knows? Maybe, you will grow so fond of him that you will find it loath to let him go.

Your friend,

Theo

Find it loath to let him go?

Leave it up to Theo Nott to use such grand words.

However, his speculation could very likely prove to be true. Her daily routine had been stirred up by the tomcat - in a good way. Hermione would miss his greetings, and snuggles, and purrs. Merlin , would she miss him, so attached to her feline friend she had already gotten.

Putting the letter aside, she lifted Draco up and held him, so their foreheads could meet. Like this, she gazed into his silver eyes.

"How about this? You behave and I might just keep you forever. Would you like that?"

Draco trilled and leaned in to lick her cheeks, the vibrations of a low purr running through his body. That night, he cuddled up to her especially close in bed, his purring and warmth lulling her straight to sleep.

Friday

Her work on Friday was much the same as Thursday, mainly researching in the archives after a long consultation with the head of her department. Although, this time, Hermione had put an alarm on her wand so as not to lose track of time. That evening, Ginny and Luna would come around to her flat for girls' night. She had plenty of work to do, but could also feel the stress of the past months of working on the law catching up with her. A cozy night in with her friends, chatting, Italian food, wine and a movie was long overdue.

That she left on time for once had most of her colleagues startled and confused, most of them staring after her as she waved them "Goodbye." Only a few of them got out of their stupor quick enough, to return the farewell.

At home, Draco had kept good to his promise to behave, none of her picture frames were turned over. He did not even come running at her like he usually did. Instead, he sat proudly next to the picture of Harry, Ron and her on the side table, forcing her to notice his restraint , and as if to say, "See how good I can be." A wide grin spread across her lips at him showing off.

To reward him, she scratched him behind his ears and cooed: "Such a good boy." Leaning forward, she touched noses with him, his tongue quickly darting out to lick her before she stood up straight again. "Not turning over the pictures won't be enough tonight, though, Draco." She rested her fists on her hips and looked at him challengingly.

"I am having friends over and if you really want to prove how well behaved you are, there better not be a repeat performance of what happened with Ron." Lifting her finger in a chastising manner, she continued, "No hissing, no scratching and no biting. Do you understand?" Each item of her no-go list was accompanied by a wag of her finger, finishing it with pointing at Draco, who confirmed with a curt meow.

Smiling at his determined stare, Hermione winked at him. "I thought so. After all, I'd hate to end this relationship on bad terms and give you back to Theo." At the mention of ending their relationship, Draco's left ear twitched and he howled in agony, clearly not fond of such a thought.

While Hermione prepared the veggie lasagna, Draco sat on his chair, watching her. In between cutting carrots and grating cheese, she told him about her progress in tackling her list of flaws, her findings in the archives and her setbacks, both big and small. With meows, trills and howls, he replied, ever the skilled conversationalist… considering he was a cat.

She had just pushed the lasagna into the oven when her doorbell rang. Ever the peculiar witch, Luna stuck to Muggle customs on her visits. The loud ring made Draco jump, his ears turning here and there to find the cause of the noise.

"Oh, poor you! That's just the doorbell, no need to worry." Hermione threw her oven gloves onto the counter and picked her startled friend up, carrying Draco to the door. Buzzing her friends in, Hermione waited for them to come up the stairs. Ginny came around the bend of the stairs first, holding up a bottle of wine, followed by Luna with… another of her questionable looking, but delicious desserts.

"Hello!" Ginny greeted with a wide smile, her eyes moving from Hermione to Draco in her arms. "And that must be your new roomie, Draco. Suits him to be such a posh cat." Ginny reached out to pet his head, but Draco stopped her hand mid-air, a gentle but firm denial. Blinking in confusion at the rejection, Ginny stared at him with her mouth agape. "I guess, your cat and Malfoy really have some things in common," she said as she drew back her hand, rolling her eyes in fake annoyance.

"Oh, Draco never seemed like one to enjoy random touches from strangers, so there's no surprise in that," Luna stated matter-of-factly and smiled at the tomcat as she asked, "Am I right?"

Draco gazed at Luna attentively before he confirmed it with a meow. Without further ado, Luna walked past them into the flat knowing her way around, and put her… dessert into the fridge.

"So, when is Nott finally coming back to take that snobby cat off you, again?" Ginny asked as she sneered at Draco.

"Don't know," Hermione answered truthfully and sat down with Ginny on the couch, her friend levitating glasses for them onto the side table. "I might keep him, though. If Theo let's me, that is."

Scrunching her nose, Ginny filled their glasses and leaned back into the cushions of the couch. Her eyes wandered slowly down from Hermione's eyes to where Draco proudly sat in Hermione's lap, enjoying his ear scratches.

"I always thought you and Draco had a lot in common, thought you'd be good together," came Luna's comment out of nowhere, distracting Ginny from studying the cat.

" Malfoy ?" Ginny's head whipped around to stare at Luna, who just shrugged nonchalantly, sipping her wine. Her tone was similar to Ron's.

"Oh, I didn't know you got to know another Draco, Hermione. It's quite the unique name after all."

Laughing at Ginny's comical display of disbelief, her brows nearly touching her hairline, Hermione replied, "I don't know any other Draco, unless you count this one." She leaned down and kissed her feline's head, Draco meowing in glee.

Luna observed her show of affection, blinked twice and said with her eerie voice, "Yes, just like I said. You're a good match." Having given up on trying to understand what Luna meant with most of the things she said years ago, Hermione merely smiled and decided to play along.

"A good match." Over time, Hermione had learned that to make Luna elaborate on the outrageous things she liked to offhandedly say, one simply had to repeat them.

"Of course," Luna answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You are both intelligent, ambitious and-" The beep of the oven clock interrupted Luna from listing any more similarities, ending the topic for now as they moved into the kitchen to eat. Each of them sat down on one of Hermione's chairs, Draco claiming his place across from Hermione.

Momentarily, they forgot about any similarities perceived by Luna and chatted about a little of anything: Hermione about her werewolf law, Luna about her creature research and Ginny about… no, not Quidditch, but about wanting another child. Thus, they shifted from work to family.

While Ginny was of course weighing the pros and cons of a third child, Luna was still debating about the right time to start a family with her husband Rolf Scamander. Inevitably, Hermione's desire to have children came up as well. It was exactly that question that somehow prompted Luna to revert to her earlier claim. As Hermione confirmed that she one day wanted to have a child, maybe even multiple children, Luna went ahead and stated unprompted,"I think Draco will be a good father," as if Draco Malfoy had anything to do with Hermione's wish to have children.

While her feline friend had only shown mild interest in their previous topics, his attention was now fully focused on Luna, ears turned her way. His tail swaying slowly from side to side, was the only movement in his otherwise still body. Crossing her arms over her chest, Ginny fixed Luna with a curious look, using the same technique Hermione had, echoing half-heartedly, "A good father."

"Sure, with Hermione being more strict, Draco could balance her out with being more… " Luna moved her hand with a flourish, searching for the right word, "...well, pampering ?"

So, Hermione's motherhood and Draco Malfoy went hand in hand in Luna's mind. Within seconds, Hermione's brain took Luna's theory on parenting styles and ran wild with it, conjuring pictures of different scenes. Opting for post-war Draco, snippets flashed before her eyes: him cradling a bundle in his arms next to her hospital bed in St Mungo's; him letting a small blonde girl with curly hair ride on his shoulders through Diagon Alley while Hermione held the hand of a little boy, the spitting image of his father; him wrapping his arm around her shoulder at platform 9 and ¾ as they saw their youngest off to her first year at Hogwarts, Hermione scolding Draco for all the candy he had given to their children as provisions for the ride.

In general, the scenes were not new. Those were the standard scenarios she imagined family life to be like in the wizarding world. Draco taking the leading role as her husband, not just the father of her children, gave them a novel feeling. If Hermione was honest, and she would not be in front of Ginny and Luna, putting Draco into those pictures did not harm them in any way. Taking into account any chance meeting she had had with her former bully, he had grown into a pleasant man.

Before her brain could concoct further scenes, namely making said children, Ginny ripped Hermione from her thoughts with a decisive: "Well, there is no use in dwelling on what might or might not be. All I can say is that Harry is a wonderful father of two and that I plan to make him a wonderful father of three tomorrow."

Hermione winced at Ginny's willingness to share her weekend plans. Sadly, from there their conversation strayed to all the things one had to keep in mind when trying to become pregnant. Intercourse in the fertile time window was of course key, but witches used all kinds of tricks , all based on superstitions if you asked Hermione, to influence the outcome: gender, character, magic abilities. As the direction their conversation had taken was visibly not to Draco's liking, his ears partially flattened to his head, he chose to retreat into the living room.

Finishing their dinner, they ate Luna's dessert while watching a sappy romance movie. The silence during the film was welcome to Hermione, who had learned more about pregnancy than she ever cared to know.

It was already late when the movie credits rolled and Ginny only wanted to leave Harry alone with the kids for so long. So,they called it a day and Hermione accompanied them to the door, Draco snuggled into her arms once more.

"I'll bring the kids over at ten, Hermione. Thanks for looking after them." Ginny winked and waved her wand, cleaning up the mess they had made, never one to burden the host.

"Goodbye, Hermione. Goodbye, Draco," Luna said and reached out to pet Draco which he let her do. Seeing how the cat favoured Luna over herself, Ginny tsked.

Well, that evening definitely counts towards the stranger experiences with my friends Hermione thought, watching as they walked down the stairs.