Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Long Term	By : ara51089 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 3400 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter; all is copyright to J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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AN: Hello, readers! This is a story that I’ve had in the works for a few months and I figured I have a fair amount of content already written so I might as well upload it for some feedback. This story is canon and epilogue compliant. Hermione/Draco is my het OTP, so this story has been brewing in my head for years. There’s not quite Ron-bashing but suffice it to say he’s my least favorite character and I hate the idea of Hermione being with him. Please read and review, flames or otherwise!

Chapter One

Hermione took a long drag on her cigarette; the smoke plumed out in front of her as she exhaled slowly. Her hand shook slightly as she flicked off the ash into the tray. Every time the inn door swung open she looked up nervously. She absent-mindedly snubbed out the cigarette and took a swig of wine before immediately pulling another cigarette from her bag. She lit it, took a few short puffs and then crushed it out as well. She sat up, fidgeting anxiously when Draco swept in and sat stiffly across from her.

“Order already?” he asked uninterestedly, picking up the menu.

“I’m not hungry.” she replied shortly, picking up her glass.

“You should eat.” He glanced at her over the menu.

She stared at him, her eyes hard.

“I said I’m not hungry.”

One annoyed eyebrow cocked as he returned to the menu.

“What was so important that I had to meet you here? You know Astoria is home right now.”

Hermione’s brow creased and she reached into her bag for her cigarette case. The waiter approached the table and Hermione purposefully continued sifting through her bag as Draco ordered. The waiter turned to Hermione.

“And you, ma’am—”

“Nothing.” she snapped.

Hermione and Draco stared coolly at each other for a moment after he left.

“Well?” Draco pressed impatiently.

Hermione lit a cigarette and took a long, deep drag.

“I’m pregnant.”

A twinge of bitter satisfaction flickered through her as Draco flinched in surprise. That threw you off, didn’t it, you smarmy bastard?, she thought barely suppressing a smirk.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Whose.”

“Does it really matter?”

Draco leaned forward slightly, eyes wide.

“Yes, it bloody well matters. You tell me right now if it’s mine or that ill-bred husband of yours’—”

“Oh, Draco, please!” she whispered harshly, rolling her eyes, “In all the years we’ve been together have you ever seen me not take birth control after sex?”

Draco’s brow softened and he sat back, sighing.

“What happened?”

Hermione leaned forward, bracing her head with her hands, elbows against the table. She shook her head slightly, eyes squeezed shut as if she had an intense headache.

“Ron came home late one night. Wanted sex. I’d been drinking—a bit too much— I figured what the hell. Afterward, I was just so drowsy from the wine that I fell right asleep before taking the potion,” she sighed heavily, “I knew I should have gotten fixed after Hugo was born.”

Draco remained silent for a long moment.

“What did he say?”

“He doesn’t know. He’s not going to know. I have an appointment tomorrow,” she looked up at him, pushing a stray hair behind her ear, “With my Muggle doctor.”

“Wait,” Draco looked bemused,” if you’re not going to keep it, why tell me? Why drag me out here?”

Hermione glared at him for a moment before lowering her head.

“Draco, come on,” she looked back up, her eyes soft and pleading, “I can’t just keep this to myself, it’s too much. I have to talk about it with someone. Who else is there? Harry? Ginny?” she perked her voice up and widened her eyes “‘Oh, yeah, I got accidentally knocked up again and I’m planning on aborting your unborn niece or nephew—I know how comfortable your whole family is with that kind of thing!—because I just can’t stand your brother and the thought of bearing him another child just makes me want to kill myself! So, how are the kids?’ Yeah, that’ll go real well, I’m sure.”

Draco smiled, shaking his head. The tension between them seemed to dissipate slightly.

“Draco, you’re…the person I’m closest with. I tell you everything. All the things I can’t tell other people. And I know it’s the same for you too.”

“All right, all right. I get it; you’re practically in love with me. And I guess the feeling’s mutual.”

He smirked at her as she laughed softly.

“I know it’s foolish of me to owl while Astoria’s home…”

“It’s all right. It’s not like we were having a tender matrimonial moment or anything.” He muttered.

“What did you tell her?”

“Same thing as always--”

“Emergency business.” They said in unison. Hermione smiled, gently biting her bottom lip.

“How long did you tell her?”

“At least a day and a half.”

Hermione stood and walked towards the back stairwell that led to the rooms upstairs. As she disappeared up the steps, Draco called the waiter over and instructed that his meal and a chilled bottle of wine be delivered to room 12 before following Hermione’s path.

The plate sat half eaten on the tray near the door, the bottle a third empty next to the bed. Hermione rested her head against Draco’s shoulder, her hair loosed from its tight chignon and falling disarrayed around her face. Draco tilted his head back against the wooden headboard, eyes closed, slowing rotating the stem of his wine glass between his fingers. Sighing gently, Hermione stood, stretching. Draco opened his eyes, reaching out to run his hand down her bare back. She grabbed her cigarette case off the nightstand before walking over to the tray, scooping a few bites of the now cold chicken marsala into her mouth.

“You should’ve ordered something.”

Hermione shot him a sneer before crossing over to the balcony door. The curtains were slightly parted and the door stood somewhat ajar. Taking out a cigarette, she lit it and inhaled deeply.

“When are you going to quit,” Draco muttered, snaking up behind her and taking the cigarette and taking a drag, “It’s a filthy habit, smoking.”

Hermione smiled and let her head fall back against his chest. A haze of smoke surrounded them for a moment before they returned to the bed. Hermione emptied the bottle of wine into their glasses.

“So, how’s Scorpius doing?” she asked, burrowing into the cool sheets and holding her glass close.

“He’s fine, I suppose. It’s hard to know. He’s at that age where he doesn’t really like talking to me or his mother.” Draco sighed, looking at down into his wine glass, “There’s a lot of tension in the house, what with Astoria and I fighting all the time. I always thought my own home would be different than the house my father kept; I never wanted my kids to dread coming home from school. I wanted to be a better father than that.”

“You are, Draco,” Hermione slid her arm around his waist, “Scorpius is 15-years-old: kids that age are moody monsters, even when they have the happiest of homes. I got lucky with Rose; she and I are very close so she didn’t turn on me. Ron on the other hand; she does everything she can to avoid him and they fight like animals when she’s home. Hugo though, he’s a loner. He was never very close to me or Ron and he likes to be by himself. But still—he’s at the age where you think that liking to be alone makes you deep and he thinks he’s the first 14-year-old to discover pot. He smokes it all day when he’s home. But he’s a good kid overall and I’m okay with having a ready-made stash when I need it.”

“Must be nice,” Draco smiled softly, rubbing his eye, “Do you think there’s something going on between Scorpius and Rose?”

“I’m not sure. They’re definitely really close but if there was anything going on, I don’t think Rose would tell me. She trusts me but she’s grown up hearing about how awful the Malfoys are from her father so it’s been very difficult for her to deal with becoming so close with Scorpius. If there is anything more than friendship going on, I doubt she’d tell anyone in the family for fear of it getting back to Ron or one of her more belligerent cousins. Does Scorpius talk about her much?”

“When he does talk, she’s all he talks about: Rose said this, Rose and I did this, Rose answered this question in class, Rose and James got into a fight, on and on. It’s a bit funny how my life now is so closely tied to Weasleys and Potters through my kid.”

“And the fact that you’re fucking Ron Weasley’s wife.” Hermione teased, nuzzling her face against his neck.

“Yes, well, that started when you were still a Granger.”

“Ah, yes. Back when I was guilt-ridden and repressed; terrified of anything that gave me pleasure and convinced that Ron was my ‘soul-mate’. Thank God you fucked some sense into me.”

AN: Please leave some feedback! Hope you enjoyed it! The next two chapters will be up very quickly because they’re already written.
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Long Term