The remainder of the week continued rather uneventfully with her and Draco making some progress on their cases, but Hermione's anxiety only increased.
She woke early the next morning a nervous wreck. She sighed into Draco's chest before turning over to check the time. 6 am, she didn't have to be up for another two hours. However, something in her knew she wouldn't be getting another ounce of sleep.
She savoured the warmth of his embrace before slowly removing herself from his hold. She quietly stood from the bed and tip-toed around the room trying to get ready to leave. She rummaged through her overnight bag and was disgruntled to find she only had one clean pair of knickers left.
Sighing again, Hermione dug up a two-day old pair of slacks and snagged one of Draco's smaller button-ups. Twenty minutes later, she was showered, dressed and currently having yogurt with fruit and granola before heading in early to do some mind-numbing paperwork.
She sat at her desk unable to do anything as she watched the clock pass time, her nerves increasing with each tick. She rearranged some files on her desk, paced her office, got a cup of tea twice and paced again. It was barely 7:30 when she couldn't take it anymore.
Hermione grabbed her bag and left her office, her mind racing as she searched for an escape from the weight of the day. The hallway was quiet, the only sound the soft click of her heels against the polished floor as she ambled around, lost in thought. She passed by familiar doorways, each one echoing with memories of late-night work sessions and spirited debates, but none felt inviting enough to draw her in.
After a few minutes of wandering, she finally decided to go to Draco's office, her heart quickening at the thought. She was well aware he was still sleeping at home… home? When did she start calling it that? The word felt foreign yet comforting, tingling on her tongue like the first sip of fresh Butterbeer, a delightful warmth spreading through her.
She turned the brass knob and to her surprise, it was unlocked. She crept in and was immediately soothed as her senses were enveloped with his scent. She went around his desk where everything was still a mess from their late-night research. She smiled to herself and began to straighten up. As she was stacking his documents, one of the titles caught her eye; it wasn't work related.
Unable to swallow her nosy curiosity, she plucked it from his desk and began scanning it. It was a letter from Gringotts Bank- all the Malfoy family assets were currently frozen, and the Manor was being threatened with foreclosure.
Hermione fell into his surprisingly comfortable desk chair. That was impossible. The Manor couldn't be sold like that. The Malfoys already owned it. Her eyes frantically scanned the paper again and narrowed in on one line.
"If the terms of contract the Malfoy Family and Gringotts have aren't met by the fifth of June this year, the Malfoy Family Vault and Malfoy Manor will be permanently repossessed by Gringotts, no exceptions."
She set the paper down, her breathing laboured. How was Draco keeping calm about this? The deadline was a week and a half from now. What terms had the Malfoys negotiated? Why hadn't he told her? What about Narcissa- did she know? Probably. What would happen to her if the Manor was taken? Where would she go?
Then it dawned on her. There was only one person who would know more about this than Draco and she was supposed to see him today. She rummaged through her bag and retrieved the letter, re-reading it a dozen times to see if he mentioned anything related to this.
The clock struck eight and Hermione started.
"Shit," she muttered.
By now, all the other Aurors were beginning to arrive, and she didn't want to be caught in his office alone. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Too late.
The door opened and Hermione locked eyes with Steph, the department secretary, as she tried to quickly put away the Gringotts statement and in the process, accidentally shoved her letter into the stack.
"Hermione! What are you doing here so early?" the older woman questioned.
She froze and sputtered.
"I, um, forgot a file here last night. Nothing serious," she laughed nervously.
There was a brief pause where Hermione's heart was hammering so hard, she swore the sound was reverberating through the room.
"Right, well I left your assignments and mail on your desk," she finally said.
Hermione quickly grabbed her bag and rushed out of the room, throwing a smile over her shoulder with a quick, "Thank you." Instead of returning to her office, she took the lift to General Administration, her heart racing with a mix of anticipation and anxiety as she headed straight for the Portkey desk.
"Hermione! Long time, no see!" Cho exclaimed, her voice bright and welcoming as she looked up from her paperwork.
"It's great to see you, Cho," Hermione replied, a warm affection bubbling up inside her. There was something comforting about Cho's presence that instantly eased the weight on her shoulders.
"So, when did you plan to tell me you were getting married, hmm?" Cho teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.
Hermione let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair. "Ugh, don't even get me started. Everything's such a mess right now. I hope you received the invitation. I was out of my wits when I finally sent them out."
"I absolutely did, and I wouldn't miss it for the world," Cho said sincerely, her expression softening.
"Thank you, Cho. That really means a lot to me." Hermione felt a flicker of relief wash over her. "Everything was supposed to be low-key and off the grid. Clearly, it's not but I appreciate how calm and accepting you are about this. Many people are very unhappy with our decision- not that I care, but it still gets to you after a while."
Cho nodded, her gaze steady and understanding. "I can only imagine how stressful it must be. People always have opinions, especially about weddings." She leaned in closer, lowering her voice slightly. "But what matters is that you and Draco are happy, right?"
Hermione took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "You're right. I just wish it didn't feel like I was constantly defending our choices. It's exhausting."
"Hey, you're allowed to put yourself first. Just remember, you have people who support you," Cho said, her tone encouraging. "And if anyone gives you trouble, just point them in my direction. I'm not afraid to set them straight."
A small smile crept onto Hermione's lips at that. "Thanks, I might just take you up on that." In that moment, surrounded by the familiar chaos of the Portkey desk, she felt a little more grounded, a little more at ease.
"Of course, Hermione. Anyway, what can I help you with today?"
She smiled appreciatively. "May I get a portkey to Azkaban, please?"
"Azkaban! What in Merlin's name are you going there for?" she exclaimed while gathering the paperwork.
"There's a case I'm working on and one of the witnesses are currently locked up," she said smoothly. Internally, she grimaced at how easy lying was coming to her.
"I see," Cho said. She left the desk and went into the backroom to create the portkey. She returned ten minutes later with a black quill.
"Alright, I need you to sign here and here. You can depart whenever you're ready but there's a one-hour time limit per Azkaban guidelines for interrogations, as you know. And remember to drop it off at the return before the end of the day or you'll be fined, and the tracking spell will activate."
"Of course, thank you, Cho."
"No problem, good luck, Hermione!" Cho said with a bright smile.
She headed back up to her office where she tried to compose herself as much as possible before travelling to the kilometre high structure that housed some of the most notorious criminals known to the wizarding world. And here she was, Auror Hermione Granger, about to waltz in and have a casual chat with Lucius Malfoy, AKA, her future father-in-law.
The clock struck 8:30. Hermione took a deep breath and grasped the quill. She felt a tug and was sucked through space until she stumbled into the guard station. She groaned and clutched her stomach.
The guard pointed to her left where there was a bucket set up for any nauseous travellers. It was clearly used often but, unfortunately, not cleaned as much as its use would require. Nothing a few Scourgifys wouldn't fix but the guard didn't seem to care. The nausea left her immediately and she faced the guard once more.
"I'm here to visit Lucius Malfoy," she said.
The guard rose a brow. "Name," he said gruffly.
"Hermione Granger," she stated confidently.
This time, both of the guard's brows rose in shock and bewilderment.
"And what is the reason of your visit?"
She crossed her arms, beginning to get impatient. "He requested me here via letter. Why are you asking me all these questions. You only need my name and badge number, so get on with it."
The guard scowled and grunted as she fed him the badge number. She had to go through three detection spells, a muggle metal detector (which was new) and leave all her belongings, including her wand, at the front desk in a cubby.
When she finally got through, a different guard accompanied her to the lifts and took her to Base 5, maximum security. She guessed being in cahoots with the biggest threat to the world since the crusades might land you there.
They went through five security doors, two of which had to be unlocked by hand and was quite tedious. They reached the guard post where she was handed off again and led through the maze of cells. The corridors were dimly lit with torches that only activated when someone walked by.
Hermione's nostrils burned as the putrid scent of excrement, mold, and festering bacteria invaded her nose. Her eyes watered and her heart ached. Every other cell or so, she'd catch a glimpse of a prisoner huddled in the dirty scraps that were supposed to be clothes. She tried to keep her gaze forward and avoid the lifeless stares watching her from the shadows. Her and the guard's footsteps echoed off the old stone walls, highlighting how baron everything was. Despite the removal of the Dementors from inside the prison, hence human guards, the space still felt devoid of all spirit. After six long minutes of walking, they stopped at cell number 333,931.
"Remember, you have one hour," the guard said, interrupting her suspicious analysation. "Would you like the interrogation room?" The guard asked boredly.
She shook her head. "No, this is fine. Thank you."
The guard nodded once and left to return to their post, their footsteps gradually getting quieter.
"Afraid to release me from my cage, Miss Granger?" a hoarse voice said.
"Come into the light," she ordered.
Slowly, Lucius emerged from the cover of the darkness until he was no more than a metre from her, only separated by thick, iron bars. The man in front of her was barely recognizable. She'd never seen a more severe fall from grace than what was standing a few paces away.
His hair was dirt brown, matted and was brushing the top of his buttocks. There was no telling that this man had ever had platinum hair. His black and white striped uniform hung pitifully off his emaciated frame as if he'd been living off air and his own will. His cheeks were sallow and scratched leaving him one step above a corpse. The only sign of life left was the arrogant and pretentious glint in his eye that seemed to stick with him.
Never in a million years would she imagine he was the patriarch for one of the most powerful families in Europe. She felt bad for him.
"I don't need your pity, Miss Granger," he said sharply, his gaze piercing as he noted the concern etched on her face. "I've made my bed."
"I didn't mean to offend," she replied softly, the words barely escaping her lips.
"Nonsense, child. Now, I've asked you here for a reason." He stepped forward, thin arms crossed- somehow, an air of authority surrounding him. "Word is that you're engaged to my son."
Hermione swallowed, her heart racing, and lifted her chin slightly in defiance. "Yes, that's correct."
"Why?" His question cut through the air, unexpected and direct.
Hermione braced herself, prepared for ridicule or scolding, the harsh insults she had anticipated. But "why" hadn't made it onto her list of possible inquiries.
"If I'm being perfectly honest, you are overqualified to be with Draco," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone devoid of the sarcasm she expected.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she fought back an incredulous laugh. A compliment from him? It wasn't something she had even considered as a possibility, especially in a conversation that felt so charged with tension.
"Overqualified?" she echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion. "You mean to say that you think I'm too good for him?"
"I think you're capable of much more than what he's prepared to offer," he replied, a flicker of something akin to respect in his eyes. "But that doesn't concern me. What does concern me is what this means for him."
Hermione's pulse quickened. "And what does it mean for him, exactly?"
A shadow of uncertainty crossing his features. "It means he may not be able to handle it. The expectations, the pressure… You know how he is."
A tightness settled in her chest as she met his gaze, searching for a glimpse of understanding. "You think he'll crumble?"
"I think he's always been drawn to the idea of greatness," he said slowly, "but whether he can rise to it… That remains to be seen."
The silence between them grew heavy, each word hanging in the air, thick with unspoken fears and unresolved conflicts. Hermione could feel the weight of his scrutiny, the urgency in his voice, and for the first time, she wondered if perhaps he wasn't entirely wrong.
"I've... grown quite fond of Draco during the time we've spent together, and he has exceeded my expectations. He's a good man," she said carefully, it being mostly factual.
Lucius hummed and smirked. "And this union would have nothing to do with that?" his eyes trailed down to her lower abdomen where her left-hand laid protectively over the growing bump.
Hermione flushed and quickly dropped her hand. She made a mental note to quit doing that lest the entire world find out she was pregnant too.
"I don't know what you are talking about," she hastily denied.
"I wasn't born yesterday, Miss Granger," he scoffed, "You and Draco sure didn't waste any time... or..." his head cocked to the side in contemplation.
"Or perhaps that is the reason you're to be wed," he smirked. Ugh, there was no denying that Draco was Lucius's son. They even smirked the same. She prayed to Morgana her baby wouldn't inherit it.
She set her jaw and locked eyes with him. "What do you want, Lucius?" she asked firmly.
"I wanted to properly meet my soon to be daughter-in-law as I won't be able to attend the wedding since I'm a bit tied up at the moment," he said lightly, bitterness hovering around his words.
She snorted. That was the understatement of the century.
"Yes, well it's my turn to ask a question," she said haughtily.
He raised a dirty brow. "Go on, then."
"Why are the Malfoy family assets and Manor about to be repossessed by Gringotts?"
Lucius was clearly taken aback by the question. "How do you know about that?" he demanded in a sharp whisper.
"That's irrelevant. What are you doing about it?"
"Does it look like I'm in a position to do anything about it, Miss Granger?" he snarked. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, pressing her lips together.
"Even if I could do something, it wouldn't matter. It's up to Draco to figure it out. He's the heir and now declared patriarch. My conviction threw a fairly large monkey wrench into his plans," he said vaguely.
Hermione's brows creased. "What do you mean by that?"
He looked around, savouring the dull light the torch gave off and sighed airily.
"That, my dear, he'll have to reveal to you himself. It's not my place anymore."
She turned the words over a few times before deciding they would have no use for her right now. So, she pushed it to the back of her mind where they could simmer.
"Why do you have such a lack of faith in him?" Hermione asked rather pointedly.
"I know my son, Miss Granger," he said simply.
"Do you really? Or do you just think you do?" Hermione challenged. Lucius observed her with an amused expression.
"That son of mine has always been weak-willed. He'd jump like a stallion if you asked him to," Lucius said, his tone dripping with disdain.
Hermione shook her head, her conviction firm. "You're wrong," she replied, her voice steady.
"Oh? You think I don't know my own son?" Lucius shot back, disbelief etched across his features.
"I don't think you know the person he's become." Her words were measured, laced with a mix of frustration and determination. "He's changed. Weak doesn't even begin to describe him. Even when he was under your thumb, he managed to survive you and Voldemort. He got out, made something of himself. He's not just some prejudiced elitist trying to be like you."
Lucius raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused grin, but Hermione pressed on, undeterred. "He's not who you think he is. He never was, and he never will be."
The silence that followed was thick with tension, as if her words had struck a nerve. She could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes, a fleeting crack in his façade. Hermione took a breath, her heart pounding as she considered the weight of what she was saying.
"Draco has fought for his identity, carved out a path for himself," she continued, her voice lowering. "You might see him as your reflection, but he's so much more than that. He's thoughtful, compassionate, and brave in ways you can't even begin to understand. He's had to navigate a world that judged him because of your choices. He's had to fight against that legacy, and he's had to clean up after you."
Lucius's expression hardened again, but Hermione didn't back down. "You've shaped him, yes, but you haven't defined him. You're not the only influence in his life. He's capable of choosing his own destiny, even if it means stepping away from you."
For a moment, the room felt charged, and she wondered if Lucius was finally beginning to see his son through a different lens. But as his eyes narrowed, the moment slipped away, leaving only the echo of their clash lingering in the air.
"I suppose it's reassuring that you think so highly of him," he said finally, neutrally.
"Draco was never a bad person, just misled," she said lightly even as the weight of her words hung around him. Lucius was an intelligent man. She knew that much. What she really wanted to know was how he screwed up so badly to get himself here.
"I would like to say our strong Malfoy bloodline would get him through. But over and over, that notion has proved false," he admitted, now uncertain.
"Well, maybe it's time for a new bloodline," she said cautiously.
Lucius remained silent for a few moments.
"Perhaps," he said quietly.
"You have thirty minutes left, Auror Granger," the guard called.
"So, it would seem our time is beginning to run out. Go if you must, Miss Granger. I'm sure you have much work to do. I've quite enjoyed our chat. We should do it again sometime."
"I wouldn't count on it. It's filthy here." Her eyes were beginning to water from the stench. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to live in this for the rest of her life.
"Yes, astoundingly, they don't provide the best accommodations for war criminals," Lucius sniped.
She sighed and looked around again. "Good luck, Mr. Malfoy," she said solemnly.
He just stared as she began to depart from the cell when he called out.
"Miss Granger, wait!"
She turned her head and saw he was gripping the bars with ash-white knuckles.
"Your enemies sit in high places waiting to strike. Be careful... for the sake of your baby," he warned.
She swallowed thickly as his words sank in. Enemies? She wasn't aware that she still had any.
Hermione nodded once, a chill slithering down her back and hurried from the cell, anxious to leave. She was starting to get a headache and all she wanted to do was sleep. The wedding was tomorrow and there was still so much to do. She felt like her head was ready to explode.
The guard took her back to the main level where she was able to collect her belongings and transported back to her office. She landed on her bum and promptly vomited into the rubbish bin at her right. She rummaged through her bag until her fingers found purchase on the desired item.
She quickly uncorked the phial and took a brief swig of the amethyst potion, immediately finding relief. She stood slowly and grimaced as everything in her body protested against the motion.
She was aware of the risk using portkeys while pregnant presented, but she took the chance anyway and now she was extremely regretting it. Her eyes drooped with fatigue. She needed to sleep or else there was no other way she was going to make it through the day.
She packed up her work and decided to take it with her to complete later. She hurried down the lift and to the floos, only stopping for two or so greetings, before letting the green flames take her to her flat.
Hermione kicked off her ballet flats and discarded her bag on the coffee table before all but falling into the sofa. She turned over uncomfortably until she decided to take off her slacks too as they were getting quite tight. She kicked those off too and let them fall into a crumpled heap, unable to get herself to care about the wrinkles that were sure to form.
She pulled up a cozy woolen blanket woven by Mrs. Weasley and wasted no time in letting her eyes drift shut.
It was the third time in a row Draco had awoken to an empty bed. His eyes weren't even open yet and he knew. He stretched out his arm and let it fall on the barely there impression before quickly pulling it back, shocked by how cold it was. She must've been gone for a while then. He sighed to himself and got up. It was beginning to be...strange when he didn't wake up next her.
After his morning routine, he headed downstairs to the kitchen and was met with a fresh pot coffee, but that was it. His brows furrowed.
The first morning Hermione had been gone, she'd prepared his mug exactly the way he liked it: two teaspoons sugar and a splash of milk. It was even better than the way he made it if he was being perfectly honest. It was nice- having someone prepare something for him who wasn't under any obligation to. The second morning, it wasn't completely ready, but the sugar and milk were already in the mug. All he had to do was add the coffee. It was still less work for him, so he wasn't complaining.
Today, he had to brew it and craft it himself. He sipped his coffee, a slight frown creasing his brow as he savoured the taste. Definitely not as good as Granger's. He sighed again, the familiar sense of longing creeping in. Hermione really brought a spark into his life. In the year and a half he'd lived here, the condo had felt like little more than a series of walls and furniture. But since she started sleeping over, the space had transformed in ways that went beyond the physical- save for the occasional stray hair and her toothbrush perched by the sink.
It was something intangible in the air… love, maybe? He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He was getting way ahead of himself. He knew he had developed a deep fondness for her, though- long before any of this had happened.
There was an energy that radiated from her, a liveliness that made everything around him feel brighter, more vivid. He found himself excitedly anticipating the work they completed together, relishing the banter that had once seemed so foreign to him. It was a contrast to his previously quiet existence, a quiet that now felt heavy and stale in her absence.
He recalled their late-night conversations, the way they'd lingered over cups of tea, laughter spilling out between them like secrets shared in the dark. Moments like those had made him realize how stifling solitude could be. It wasn't just about companionship; it was about the joy she infused into mundane tasks- the way she could make a simple meal feel like an adventure, or how her enthusiasm for the smallest things could draw a smile from him when he least expected it.
Maybe it was love… he wasn't sure he was ready to name it yet, and perhaps that was part of the allure. Still, he couldn't ignore how she made him feel, how she opened up a world of possibilities he hadn't even considered. For now, though, he would simply enjoy the moment- her presence, the lightness she brought, and the prospect of what was waiting for them in less than a day's time.
Draco finished the last few sips before setting the mug in the sink. He spotted a small bowl and glass that certainly hadn't been there last night. It gave him a little relief knowing that she'd eaten before leaving.
He grabbed his work bag and headed to the Ministry, mentally preparing himself for another day of dead ends. None of the leads they'd gotten had made a dent in their contraband case and it was putting a serious damper on his mood. Minister Shacklebolt, as decent as he was, was beginning to breathe down Snyde's neck about the case- on account of three more incidents in the past two weeks- and in turn he, Hermione and few others assigned to the case were receiving the blows.
He strode to his office, in no particular hurry to go and start mind-numbing paperwork. Just his luck, he bumped into Snyde a few paces from his office. He groaned inwardly; he'd been so close.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, good morning! I've been waiting for you, actually," he said in an uncharacteristically jovial tone.
"Uh, morning and you have? Why?"
He smiled lightly, even showing some teeth that were surprisingly fair. "I wanted to inform you that you and Miss Granger's time-off request has been granted though quite unnecessary."
His face contorted into one of confusion. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, genuinely perplexed.
"It's the Lunar holiday next week. The entire Ministry has the week off. Obviously the Aurors will still be on call should something happen, but I've arranged for you two to remain undisturbed until you return so you can enjoy your honeymoon."
Draco blinked. "Um, wow, thank you! I really appreciate that," he thanked, partially stunned.
"Oh, it was no problem at all. Must you pass the message on to Miss Granger?"
"She'll definitely hear it. Thank you, Mr. Snyde, really," Draco expressed.
"Of course, and let me know if you make any headway on your case. Shacklebolt's ready to wring my neck," he sighed.
He huffed out a small chuckle. "Will do. Have a good day, sir."
"You too," Snyde said pleasantly before walking further down the hall and striking up another conversation with a different Auror.
He locked himself in the solitude of his office and felt waves of serenity wash over him. He smiled to himself as he picked up a few notes of her from last-night's research session. He'd never thought the smell of coconut and jasmine would put him at ease but here he was breathing it as if it were more valuable than air.
The morning had passed, and Draco hadn't seen her once. He couldn't deny it, there was a small seed of worry growing in the pit of his stomach. It was nearing one and they usually got lunch together at noon. He'd stopped by her office twice and she'd been absent both times.
He finally decided to ask Steph to which she replied she'd only seen Hermione once, much to his disappointment. But to his interest, she'd been in his office. It explains why everything had been so tidy because it certainly hadn't been that way when they left. And to his dismay, Steph relayed that she looked jittery and anxious.
After a little more digging, Draco discovered that she'd went to Azkaban to "conduct a witness interview," which was absolute bogus. They didn't have any witnesses lined up.
So, her odd behaviour paired with a case of the jitters and on top of that, a suspicious trip to Azkaban left Draco with a state of moderate unease. He supposed if anything happened while she was there, he would've known by now, right? News spread like wildfire in the Ministry. It was fast, destructive and difficult to recover.
It was getting close to the end of the workday and still no sign of Hermione. He'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of her that he'd completely forgotten about a meeting/stakeout he was supposed to have with Auror Heath beginning at eleven. Instead, he'd just filled out way too many reports and found a dirty trail he planned on looking into later.
He stayed until seven trying to distract himself knowing that Hermione was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She was a grown woman, for crying out loud. Merlin, when had he become so attached? He sounded so- so wet. Blaise would've had a field day with him.
Finally giving up on getting anymore work done. He packed up and left quickly, anxious to see her. Only to find that she wasn't home... home?
"Granger?" he called a grand total five times and getting no response.
Now he was beginning to panic. They say one doesn't really know someone until they live together. And he could definitely say there'd been a learning curve, and he knew for a fact that she wouldn't just up and disappear like that. So where in the hell had she gone? Draco paced the living room trying to figure out where she was when it hit him like a kilo of bricks.
Her flat.
Of course she'd be at her flat. That was her actual place of residence. He felt stupid for not realising earlier.
He took the floo and felt his shoulders sag in relief when he saw her peacefully snoozing on the sofa with her mug-faced cat curled up by her feet. He smiled lightly as a ringlet of her cookie brown hair blew sideways with each puff of her breaths.
Draco kicked off his shoes and undid his tie, discarding it on the coffee table. He neared her quietly, ignoring Crookshanks warning growls.
"Bugger off, ugly" he hissed back before realising he was insulting a cat.
He gently picked her up from the couch and was surprised to see that she was wearing his shirt. He walked down the narrow hallway until he reached what he hoped was her bedroom. He pushed the door in a little with his foot and was glad to see the caving bookshelves.
He carried her over to the bed and gently placed her under the covers before stripping down to his black boxer-briefs and settling himself behind her.
Hermione groaned lightly as the weight shifted and his hard chest was against her back.
"Good night, Malfoy," she greeted.
"Good night, Granger. How was your day?" he asked.
"Ugh, don't even get me started," she grumbled.
He chuckled quietly before going quiet.
"I missed you today," he said softly.
She hummed and snuggled back into him until her hair was on the verge of suffocating him.
"Move in with me?" he whispered. Hermione snorted. "I think that's included with the whole marriage pack," she teased.
"HOLY SHIT!" she exclaimed suddenly, her eyes flying open.
"What? What's wrong?" Draco asked hurriedly.
She turned to face him. "We're getting married tomorrow. This is it," she said breathlessly. He huffed a little in disbelief. These had been the longest, fastest three weeks of his life.
"So it would seem," Draco replied quietly.
They both stared at each other in indescribable silence. From an observer's view, it was clear that there was much more behind their pensive gazes.
"I'll be the one in white," Hermione quipped softly, creating a small smile on Draco's lips. They chatted idly until they both drifted into a capricious slumber.
When Hermione woke the next morning, Draco was gone.