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Getting What You Want	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 12403 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money writing this story. That's why I'm broke and J.K. Rowling is a boss.

Chapter List
- 1-Getting What You Want
- 1
AN: Still can't sleep so I finished this one out for you guys. It's actually SUPER tame compared to what I normally write, though I hope it's a little devious. I haven't really proof read it that well, so if you see something, let me know.

“They’re here, Mr. Malfoy.”
Draco smirked evilly and hit the intercom button. “Three, Betty.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Draco sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. Five years of careful planning and manipulation were about to come to fruition. An option three was to make his clients wait for thirty minutes without apologies and then send them in. He used numbers instead of directions to keep his system private. Betty, his personal assistant, thought it was hilarious. It was a good tactical measure too, depending on what his clients were there for. For those anxious to see a lawyer, he’d make them wait a little longer to see what he could pry out of them. Those who were cocky were so angry that he easily outmaneuvered them. If they were fearful, he’d have them sent in immediately just to intimidate them. But these clients were different.
He remembered the day that he decided to put his plan into effect. It was during his trial. His father had been sentenced to 10 years in Azkaban for consorting with the Dark Lord. His mother was put on probation after Harry Potter stepped in and testified that she tried to help. The fact that she did not have the Dark Mark helped her out with that. He was certain that he’d be sentenced to Azkaban as well. He’d already settled for his lot and had systematically removed memories that the Dementors could feast on to make his stay worse. And then she had showed up.
He remembered the way her hair shone in the dim torchlight. It was still frightfully bushy but she’d managed to tame it into a semblance of an updo. Tendrils snaked down, accentuating her long neck. She was wearing navy blue wizarding robes and a silver heart-shaped necklace. The war had changed many things for Draco. Most of all, he’d seen that blood purity was worth as much as thestral shit. He’d always fancied his defender, something he’d never admit to a soul. But the war had opened up possibilities he’d never let himself imagine. Possibilities like finally having her. And she was still magnificent as she defended him, claiming that he was coerced, which he was. But the Wizengamut actually listened to her… and he was freed.
He’d vowed to make her his since then. He made monetary reparations for his past, publicly apologized for his misdeeds, and even worked his way through the Ministry from the bottom to lead Councilor for the Wizengamot. It wasn’t easy to overcome the Malfoy infamy, but he’d done it on his own merit and no one could accuse him of using his money or power to do so. But there was a kink in his plans, a red headed kink with as many manners as a mangy cur and half the money. She’d fallen head over heels for that stupid lug, a childhood crush come to realization so they papers said. He stepped up his game, making it a point to be charming and help in any way he could in all of her endeavors for creature rights. Still, she never seemed to see him. Though she’d thawed tremendously, had even become quite friendly, she only had eyes for that weasel. They’d married a few years later but Draco hadn’t given up. And now he had them both right where he wanted them.
He took out the file he’d been compiling since his trial and flipped to the pages he needed. It had taken a while to find a chink in her husband’s armor. At first, he appeared to be the perfect doting and sappy boyfriend, but things changed after their engagement. The weasel started out slow… out of town with some friends on a boy’s weekend. He’d covered it up by encouraging her out on a girl’s weekend. She was never the wiser, but Draco had managed to get some incriminating photos of a busty blond sitting on the red head’s lap. After that, the weasel was overly affectionate, almost… guilty. Draco watched closer, watched as that blackguard married Draco’s perfect woman and then worked late and made deals and got sloppier by the passing day while Granger remained oblivious. But it was the gambling that was perhaps the most damning. And that’s where his plan had finally come to life.
It hadn’t been easy, pulling a string here, manipulating the outcome there, and greasing a few palms along the way to make sure things didn’t backfire and laying hundreds of fail safes to make sure none of it would come back on him. Word on the street was that the perfect weasel was quickly becoming tarnished as stories started falling apart. A missed bill here, a mention of a hidden deal there, and suspicion started showing in those golden brown eyes that Draco studied so often. But the biggest break was something so underhanded and dirty he was almost afraid to use it. Almost.
“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to see you.”
Draco stood and walked to the door, grabbing his prize’s arm and helping her to sit, much to the weasel’s aggravation. She was quite comfortable with him, something he took pride in. Weasley obviously wasn’t aware how calm his little wife could be around his enemy. He bit back a smirk. Just wait until the bastard realized the depth of his folly. He made sure to give his prize an extra touch on the arm, a comforting gesture that he hoped would settle her nerves. He wished he wouldn’t have to smash that fragile calm, but there was nothing for it.
“Clear my schedule please,” he said softly as Betty made to leave.
She bowed her head to hide her answering smirk. “Already done sir.”
With that, she left, locking and warding the door. Draco loved his secretary. Betty was the only one he’d let in on some of his plans, mostly because she was so amazingly devious. And she had a bone to pick with Arthur Weasley. Getting back at his youngest son was a reward all by itself. If it was one thing Draco had learned in his life, it was that one should never underestimate a woman scorned. Which was why he was willing to pull this last string.
“Why make an appointment if we have to wait another half hour to see you?” Granger murmured.
Draco smirked. Minx. She wouldn’t be so catty in a moment and he was really looking forward to that. He settled behind his desk and leaned back, crossing his leg and clasping his hands, letting his thumbs rub together. Weasley looked like he was about to vomit but Granger was just annoyed. Perfect.
“I do apologize,” Draco said smoothly, “I had an unexpected matter I had to attend to. It couldn’t be helped.”
Granger sniffed and looked away and he bit back a chuckle. He had her there. She was forever late because of unexpected matters that her bleeding heart just couldn’t turn down. It was one of the things he found intriguing about her. Weasley only looked more ill. Good.
“You, of course, realize why you’re here,” Draco purred, his eyes boring into Granger’s. The less he dealt with Weasley, the more of a possibility for him to slip.
Granger frowned, which was still cute. “Ron said that you wished me to be here for your meeting.”
“And you didn’t inquire as to what it was?” Draco asked.
Granger sighed. “Does it matter?”
Draco tapped his finger to his mouth. “I just wonder why the one witch in this world that prides herself on knowing absolutely everything there is to know about everything wouldn’t know why she’s meeting with the lead councilor for the Wizengamot. You usually know more than I do when we meet.”
“He said it was personal,” she murmured. “You two made a business arrangement.”
Draco chuckled, happy that this was playing right into his hands. “So that’s what he calls it.”
He knew the exact moment that Weasley got the message. His pale freckled face turned the color of parchment and if he looked closely, Draco could see the vomit the schmuck was trying hard to swallow. It had taken a long time to back the little prat into such a perfect corner. Draco was going to enjoy it to the fullest.
“What would you call it?” Granger shot back, a delicious hint of anger in her fiery eyes.
Draco bit back a mad grin and steepled his fingers. “A debt that he failed to repay.”
Got her. Those eyes went from the depths of fire to ice cold in a heartbeat. She stared Weasley down with a look that would freeze Voldemort in place. He flicked his wand and cast a spell that would capture this moment in duplicate in his mind. That way, he could relive it via pensive as many times as he wanted. And judging by the furious flush in her cheeks, Granger was about to give Weasley a dressing down to rival one Weasley Matriarch.
“What sort of debt, Ronald?” she hissed.
The ginger git was on the verge of passing out, his mouth gasping like a fish out of water. How did one explain that they had literally gambled their own wife away on an ill-conceived hunch that some slag whispered in their ear? Of course, Draco had planted that slag himself, along with some unsound business advice. Weasley had learned the hard way that if it sounded too good to be true, it usually was. The prospect of untold riches had been too much for the ever-poor wanker and he’d sealed his own coffin, so to speak.
“Ronald Weasley, so help me, if you don’t tell me what is going on right now, you won’t have limbs to step out of this room with,” Granger spat.
Draco swallowed a gleeful giggle and cleared his throat. “Perhaps you’d like to read the signed arrangement?”
“What?” she snapped, her head turning so quickly he feared she’d injured her neck.
He deftly opened his desk drawer and made a show of riffling through papers. He had two copies of this document. One, the original Weasley had signed in a near drunken stupor, was still pristine. He’d made sure to keep a preservation charm on it. The other was a copy he’d kept for his own personal use. It was worn and smudged from the numerous times a day he poured over it to make absolutely sure there were no loopholes. After all, Granger was the smartest witch of the age. If there was anyone who could get out of a contract, it was her.
Her face pinched when she took the pristine document from his hands. “How long has this agreement been in play?”
“Two years,” Draco said quietly. “I thought it only fair to give your husband every chance to make a return on his investment.”
“Investment?” she breathed, scarcely believing her ears.
“Please,” he drawled. “Take your time. The agreement outlines our entire arrangement. If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them.”
He was torn between watching the many expressions flitting over her face as she read the terms of the agreement and watching Weasley slowly dying in his chair. He counted seven shades of white just since she had started reading. Finally, her face won out. He had to pat himself on the back. The contract was masterfully written, no I left undotted, no T uncrossed. At first glance, it was a completely legit arrangement. Even at second and third glance, the logic was flawless. But if one cared to break it down into sections, it was one hell of a trap.
“No,” she whispered.
“Problem?” he asked innocently.
She looked up, her face pale. “He… he… this is impossible!”
“Which part?”
“He can’t use me as collateral!” she shrieked after reading over the document again. “That’s illegal.”
Draco gave her a moment to get her breathing back under control. It wouldn’t do for her to pass out. When she finally managed to get control of herself, he opened his hands in supplication. “You had a traditional wizarding marriage complete with old customs, correct?”
“Of course,” she said quietly. “He insisted.”
Draco hummed, hoping his inflection would convey sadness. “Then according to the laws of the Ministry, you are considered his property. I agree that it’s archaic, but it was all he had and it was in my best interest.”
“You… your best interest?” she asked indignantly. “My body?”
He shook his head. “Your genetics.”
“I’m a mudblood,” she hissed.
He sighed and nodded sadly. “There was a time in my life that I would have called you that. I hope you know that I am deeply sorry for the pain I’ve caused you and others. I was young and impressionable, brainwashed by a madman and my father before him. I don’t hold the same beliefs I once did. You must know this.”
She scraped a stray tear from her eye. “You want me to be your broodmare?”
He frowned. “That’s a bit harsh. I merely wish for you to be the mother of my heir.”
“And the difference?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“You would be a cherished member of my family,” he said quietly. “As you know, I’m not married… and I don’t wish to enter into a traditional pureblood marriage. Not only is there no one I find suitable, there is that pesky lack of a gene pool. I want my heir to be strong, magically gifted, and diverse. You’ve done the research yourself, I believe. Purebloods are dying, Granger.”
“It’s Weasley,” she whispered.
“Not according to this,” he said gently while tapping the document, allowing the meaning to sink in.
Her eyes went from dull comprehension to fiendfyre in a split second. “I will fight this, Malfoy.”
It took a monumental effort to suppress his grin. That was the Granger he knew. Instead, he kept the Malfoy mask in place and nodded. “I would expect nothing less. Here, allow me to make you a copy of the agreement so you can look it over. I have exactly one year and six months to fulfill the requirements of a Malfoy heir, which means that the next generation is to be born then. I’ll give you two months to look the contract over. After that, if you have no way out of it, I request that you have dinner with me to discuss the terms and conditions of being a Malfoy surrogate.”
“Fine,” she snapped. She snatched the copy out of his hands and spun on her husband, who hadn’t moved an inch or said a word since they’d entered the room. “You,” she hissed. “You’re not to come anywhere near me until I can figure this out.”
Before the weasel could even open his mouth to speak, she was out the door. The lingering sent of jasmine and vanilla was the only trace of her. Draco took a deep breath, trying to commit the scent to memory. He was confident that his contract with Weasley was iron clad, but Granger was the smartest woman he’d ever met. Still, he was certain that he’d successfully ruined Ronald Weasley for life… and that alone was worth the trouble. Aaaand it meant he could get in a few more digs.
“Didn’t tell her, did you Weaselbee?”
Weasley ground his teeth. “It was a sound investment.”
Draco hummed and rubbed his lips in false contemplation. “Doesn’t seem that way now. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Shut it, Malfoy,” Weasley hissed.
Draco tutted. “That’s no way to speak to your business partner.”
“She’ll find a way out of this,” Weasley said, though his confidence wavered.
“She very well may,” Draco acknowledged. “But will you?”
Weasley turned twelve shades of red and started sputtering.
“Feel free to leave,” Draco said with a smirk. “I believe we’re finished here.”
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Draco looked at his pocket watch and summoned a waiter over. She’d be arriving any moment.
“Your finest dry white and my usual, two plates though.”
“Very good sir,” the waiter bowed. “Shall I see Ms. Granger to your table when she arrives?”
“Please.”
He’d waited two very long months for this moment. As expected, Granger had thrown the book at him. All of the books, actually. Sometimes physically. She could not find one thing in the contract that was contestable. So, this afternoon with a heavy heart, she’d strolled into his office and accepted his offer for dinner. He could barely contain his glee but managed to rise and thank her somberly.
He’d have to be careful these next few weeks. He knew he wouldn’t have any problems with her accepting him as he was. He truly had changed over the years. But he would need to be sure he reined himself in, went slow, allowed her to adjust and come to him instead of aggressively pursuing her. Of course, becoming a surrogate meant that he’d get to sleep with her. And he was definitely looking forward to that. He was even considering taking a fertility suppressor to lengthen the time it took to get her pregnant. But he wanted more than her body. He wanted her mind, her spirt, her soul… her love. He wanted every square inch of her. It would take time, but he was a patient man.
“Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger.”
Draco flinched, having gotten lost in his thoughts, and rose so fast he nearly bumped the table. “Ms. Granger,” he said politely, motioning to her seat. “Forgive me. My mind was elsewhere.”
She pursed her lips and nodded before taking a seat. She was truly beautiful, just a hint of gloss on her lips that accentuated her natural beauty. She never caked any makeup on and he appreciated that. She was dressed smartly, more for a business meeting than a dinner date with the future father of her children, but he appreciated the effort. The cream colored blouse was probably slightly more transparent that she realized as it gave him an excellent view of her cleavage and he decided to make a copy of this memory as well so he could peruse the view a little further.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” he started, nodding as the waiter poured the wine.
“Like I had a choice,” she said glumly.
Draco waited until the waiter left before sighing and grabbing her hand. She tensed but let him.
“Granger, I realize that the situation we find ourselves in is not an easy one for you to accept. I’m sure you have a million questions buzzing around in that impressive brain of yours. But I only ask that you hear me out.”
She sniffed. “Not an easy situation indeed. You gambled with me!”
“Ah,” he said, making a show of being slightly uncomfortable. “I, um… I’m not sure I should tell you how the subject came up.”
“Oh, I’m sure I can piece it together,” she said grimly as she jerked her hand away and took a long sip of wine. “I’m not an idiot you know. I suspected Ron had a gambling problem before we married, but I thought that he just needed some stability. After all, he had a good job, we both did. And I… I thought if I could offer him a nice comfortable home and a wife…”
Draco deftly plucked a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed to her. Her beautiful amber eyes were filled with tears, though she was refusing to let them fall. She quickly dabbed the corners of her eyes and sniffed, regaining her composure once again. He remained patient, having eyes only for her. This was actually going much better than expected. In fact, he’d ordered the white because he was sure he’d be wearing it by the end of the night. He still might, but for now, he felt safe.
“Anyway, the first sour deal, we had a row and he ensured me it would never happen again. Gods, I’m such an idiot.”
“No,” Draco said softly. “Just blinded by love.”
She snorted. “He obviously didn’t feel the same if he’d just… just… sign my life over. After everything. I… how?”
Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Granger, if I tell you, you have to promise me that you’ll keep a level head.”
She glared at him. “What do you take me for?”
He smiled. “A fiery witch with a wicked right cross and a twitchy wand hand.”
She managed to smile at that and then huffed. “Fine. I’ll keep my wand and my hand to myself. For now.”
“Sounds promising,” he said dryly. “Very well. You deserve to know. I ran across Weasley during a trip abroad… America actually. It’s a fascinating place. Have you ever been?”
“No,” she said through clenched teeth. “And I didn’t think Ron had either.”
Draco made a show of looking surprised and abashed. “I apologize.”
“For him being a bloody bastard?” she growled.
“Fair point,” he said slowly. “Anyway, I had just come back from a tiresome business meeting and decided to go for a drink at the local pub, well, bars they’re called. Weasley was with a few of his mates, I guess, and… anyway they were talking about a business deal.”
“Back up,” she interrupted. “What you do mean mates, I guess, and. And what?”
“I’d rather-“
She held a hand up, her eyes blazing. “Draco Malfoy, if it is one thing I cannot stand, it is a liar. And an omission is just as good as a lie in my book. You better remember that.”
Draco took a sip of his wine to cover his swallow and nodded. “Of course. I just wanted to spare you.”
“Save it,” she snapped.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “There were a few ladies of the night there as well. The one on Weasley’s lap kind of reminded me of Brown.”
“Of course she did,” she said darkly before taking another big gulp.
Draco eyed her glass and then continued on. With any luck, she’d get sloshed, blame the whole thing on Weasley, and they’d be well on their way to a happy life.
“Go on,” she said gruffly.
He nodded. “They were talking about an investment.”
“In the housing market,” she said with some venom. “Flipping houses.”
Draco hummed. “It took me three weeks to figure out what flipping houses meant.”
She laughed darkly. “Did Ron ever know?”
“He says he did,” Draco said softly. “He kept going on and on about the deal of a lifetime. But he had no money and he needed to buy in immediately to get the deal.”
“Get scammed is more like it.”
“Granger, from my research, it had the potential to be a lucrative deal.”
“Of course it did,” she said, raising her voice enough that she called attention to them. “If he knew what the bloody hell he was doing!”
Draco quickly cast a privacy charm. “Part of the deal was training.”
“Yeah, well,” she grumbled. “Then what happened?”
“I’m afraid Weasley’s tastes were a little… extravagant in order to turn a profit.”
She nodded and hung her head. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He was forever moaning about growing up always having to share, never having anything new of his own. It took some serious rows to make him realize that we didn’t have the kind of money needed to live a lavish life, but he never seemed happy with what we had.”
“I’m sure he was,” Draco said, watching her dab her eyes again. “I can honestly say that I haven’t ever been poor, but if I were to have to do without, I could see the wanting.”
“And how would you know about doing without?” she snapped.
He studied her for a moment, the way she played with her wine glass and worried the one strand of hair hanging in her face. He wanted all of her and to get that, he’d have to give her a piece of himself. She sighed and grabbed her hand again. He liked the contact and it seem to keep her focused.
“There are ways one can be deprived other than monetarily, Granger.”
“How?” she asked cautiously.
“Love. I was raising in a cold home. Affection was not freely given and love was a useless emotion, suitable only for making one weak. From my father’s standpoint anyway. Well, Potter proved that wrong, didn’t he?”
She looked stricken and he counted that as a point in his favor. “I’m sorry. I thought-“
He held up a hand. “No need to apologize. I was a terror in my younger years, mostly because it pleased my father to act that way. I tried to earn his love but nothing I ever did was enough. I’ve made my peace with it, but that is precisely the reason that I refuse to marry without love. And, as you know, love takes time, time I don’t have.”
“So how did you get Ron to put me up as collateral.”
“I didn’t,” he said slowly. “He… he offered.”
“What?” she said in a tone that bordered on killing curse.
He sighed. “He had had a few, raving about being broke all the time, and he started railing about you and how you never let him have anything. He said you were a miser and always kept control of the money. He said you were saving it and he said if he could get his hands on it, he could invest it. As it escalated, the whole bar started listening. So I stepped in and suggested he keep his business to himself.”
“And.”
“And he told me to sod off, naturally.”
“Sounds about right. But there’s obviously more.”
“Mmmm. I reiterated that he should keep his mouth shut and he went off about me always having money and how much he could make if he just had a shot. So, I thought I’d shut him up real quick if I offered him a loan. And he accepted. But, of course, I can’t just offer without collateral. That’s bad business.”
“What were his exact words,” she said slowly.
“He said, and I quote, all I got’s Hermione. What’s she worth?”
Her jaw dropped and then she trembled with rage. “What did you tell him?”
He smiled sadly. “I told him you were worth a hundred of him and if you were mine, I’d never be so callus as to throw your worth around.”
“You did not,” she snorted.
He gave her the most serious look he could muster. “Hermione, I know it hasn’t always seemed like it, but I have a great deal of respect for you, even affection if you will. After everything you’ve been though, everything I put you through, you managed to come out on top, more radiant than ever.”
She looked stunned and then snorted. “So you value me so much that you just accepted the offer.”
He signed. “Weasley was adamant, but that was two years ago. I figured surely by now I would have found someone I loved and started a family. And I was certain that as determined as he was, he would have made his money back. It was a sound investment.”
“And me?”
“If he hadn’t paid it back, I would have sat down with you and renegotiated the terms of the contract. It’s clause C, subsection D, paragraph 12, first sentence if you care to look.”
She closed her eyes and recited the line. “In the event of a Malfoy heir coming to fruition before the contract deadline expires, terms for payment may be renegotiated with an equal trade in monies or bartered goods.”
He chuckled. “You memorized the entire bloody thing, didn’t you?”
“Of course,” she said sadly and then shook her head. “So you made the deal thinking that you’d never have to use it.”
He hummed. “Unbelievable, isn’t it.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked,” she said quietly, staring at her wine glass. “Seems all my perceptions these past few years have been the wrong ones.”
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Draco said, pushing back from the table slightly so the waiter could deliver the food. “After all, I haven’t exactly been a knight in shining armor all my life, have I?”
She shook her head. “No, but my shiny knight turned out to be made of foil.”
He frowned. “Beg pardon?”
“It’s a muggle thing, a shiny roll of very thin aluminum. Muggles use it to cover things and cook with.”
He hummed. “I shall have to see this… aluminum. Please, eat something Granger. I recall you liked alfredo so I took the liberty of ordering it for you. If you want, you can order something else.”
She looked down and shook her head. “No, this is just fine. Thank you, Malfoy.”
“Please, call me Draco.”
“D-draco.”
He smiled and dug in. This was going swimmingly. If all talks went this good, she’d be his in no time.
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“You want me to WHAT?”
He flinched and scooted back a bit on the sofa. “It’s a standard-“
“I don’t give a flying fuck what it is! I’m not sleeping with you!”
He stared at her like she’d just swallowed a bug. “Granger, exactly how do you think babies are made?”
“SURROGATE, Malfoy.”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “As in, not my wife.”
“No, surrogate means that I carry your baby and give it back to you.”
“Still not seeing the issue, Granger.”
She was starting to breathe like a bull. “Malfoy, you don’t have to have sex to get pregnant.”
He cocked his head. “Since when?”
Her jaw dropped and she scooted back, too. “In vitro fertilization. You take the egg and the sperm outside the body, fertilize it, and then implant it in the mother.”
“Why in the bloody hell would you want to do that?”
“Because that’s how it’s done.”
“Not in the wizarding word,” he said, slightly affronted at the clinical way muggles were playing with fate.
“I’m sure we could find a spell…”
“Granger,” he said slowly, trying to keep his temper. “I’m going to ask you to read the conditions of the Malfoy inheritance and I want you to read them slowly so you get the full meaning.”
He was certain she was going to hex him sideways but she took the contract and began pouring over it. Just like every other time she read something, he studied her face. It was just as good, if not better, than reading the parchment himself. Every nuance of the script came to life in the expressions on her face. There was amusement and fear, downright disgust, and finally… disbelief.
“You’ll lose your magic?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “House, money, name, and magic. I’ll be worse off than a muggle.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and he realized he’d misspoke. “You better explain exactly what you mean-“
He held his hands up. “I only meant that I’d have absolutely nothing. I don’t know how to do things the muggle way, Granger. I won’t have money to pay for things like the muggles do and I couldn’t conjure anything I needed.”
She sniffed and then shook her head. “I’m not sleeping with you, Malfoy.”
“Then you’ll void the terms of our contract,” he said gravely.
She blinked back tears. “I… I could be okay if I lost my magic.”
“Would you still be able to do your job?” he asked softly. “You love it, don’t you?”
“You know I do,” she said, dashing a few tears away. “But I could deal.”
“Am I that repulsive?”
She looked at him in shock. “No, I… you don’t have any objections?”
“I signed the contract, didn’t I?”
“But… but…”
“And it’s magically binding, isn’t it?”
“But I’m married.”
“Not anymore.” He sighed. “Hermione, we only have a few months before my contract runs out. We could argue back and forth about this for a lifetime but the short answer is no, I don’t have any objections. I honestly think you are a beautiful and intelligent woman that any man should be proud to have. I don’t look at this as some cheap and dirty deed that is an ends to a mean, though the end result will save us both. I just… Hermione please. I know it’s still very new and very raw but give me a chance.”
She huffed. “You sound like you’re proposing we actually date or something.”
“I’d do anything you wanted,” he said quietly.
She blinked at him. “You’d offer me a commitment?”
He smiled softly. “You’re going to be the mother of my child. I’d call that a pretty big commitment. Anything else is just a bonus.”
She reached out a trembling hand and took his. “O-okay. But… just… go slow?”
“I’m yours to command,” he said, bending to kiss her hand.
He helped her up and gently guided her into his master bedroom. If everything went as planned, she wouldn’t get pregnant this first time. He’d secretly cast an ovulation indicator spell on her and she wasn’t currently fertile. But oh, he’d have fun trying.
She made herself busy by walking around and familiarizing herself with the room. He allowed it and went to the bathroom to freshen up… and get all the celebratory dances that were threatening to break through out. Once the door was shut, he silenced the room and did a jig all the way across the floor, punching the air a few times for good measure. This was it. He was finally going to get to bed Hermione Granger. And he was going to make sure she remembered this encounter for the rest of her life.
When he came back in, she was sitting on the bed wringing her hands. He sat beside her and gently touched her shoulder.
“Would you like to freshen up?”
She nodded and quickly ran to the bathroom. When the door shut, he hastily cast every romantic spell he could think of. One freshened the sheets and perfumed them with a soft scent of roses. The next put petals all over the bed. They’d lift in the air when they laid down. The next dimmed the light. Another brought candles to life. A swish and they floated in the air, complete with spells to catch the dripping. Then he charmed the ceiling to look like the stars and put on a record to sound like a gentle spring night.
“Wow.”
He turned to see her standing in his door looking like a deer in the headlights.
“Is this okay?” he asked. “I thought… it might be easier.”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Ron never did any of this.”
Draco snorted at that. “You deserve it.”
She shook her head and shrugged at the same time, not sure how to take a compliment.
“You do,” he insisted. “You’re about to give me the greatest gift a woman could ever give a man and I’ll be damned if it’s just some cheap meaningless moment.”
“You’re really excited about this baby,” she said, gulping in discomfort.
“I’ve always wanted a family,” he said softly before walking over and pulling her into his arms. “But I want you to know that I see this as a gift, regardless of the outcome.”
With that, he pulled her into a soft, gentle kiss. She was stunned at first and then melted into the kiss. He kept things slow and steady, working her mouth as he covertly walked her to the bed. By the time he picked her up and sat her on the sheets, she was putty in his arms. Whatever that pig had done to her, he was going to make sure that he was all she thought about from now on.
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12 Years Later:
“Dad, we’re going to be late.”
“Nonsense,” Draco drawled. “Malfoys are never late.”
“Seriously dad, why did you have to take so long this morning. You knew it was the first day of school.”
Draco smirked at his son, Scorpius and ruffled his hair. “Sorry son, but your mother needed my help scratching an itch and I just couldn’t refuse.”
“Draco.”
Draco grinned at his wife and grabbed her around the waist. “What?” he asked innocently. “It’s the truth.”
She huffed and smacked his shoulder before pulling away. “Honestly.”
Draco laughed and herded his family towards Platform 9 ¾. He was glad they’d left Rose, Lilac, and Romulus at the house. They really were dreadfully late and the smaller children just couldn’t keep up. He cast a worried glance towards his wife as she waddled down the station. She was in her last month of pregnancy and was beginning to slow dramatically. It wouldn’t be long now. He couldn’t wait to feel another baby in his arms. He just hoped it wouldn’t be today. They stepped through and he watched as his wife gave the first lecture in a long line of many.
“Now Scorpius. Make sure you are diligent in your studies. I know there are going to be a lot of new things to do and see but I don’t want them slipping.”
Scorpius frowned. “I would never.”
“That’s my boy. Go on now. Have fun. And don’t forget to write!”
Scorpius grinned and gave him mum a hug and kiss. Then he turned to Draco and did the same. Draco lapped it up, squeezing extra hard. There was no way anyone in the world could accuse him of not loving his son. As the toe headed sprite bounded on the train, he caught a glimpse of red hair out of the corner of his eyes. Weasley was holding a little boy’s hand. He had red hair just like his father and freckles to boot. He wore an older robe and looked just as wide eyed and wondrous as every other tyke getting their first eyeful of the Hogwarts express.
Not long after he and Hermione had fulfilled the contract, Weasley went back to America to pick a bone with his business partners. No one really knew what happened. He traveled back and forth for a while and then he suddenly showed up with a bundle of money. An anonymous tip revealed that he’d swindled the money from a few real estate investors and he was thrown in jail for several years. Molly finally took pity on him and got the bloke a lawyer who won his freedom. He’d apparently learned his lesson though, invested wisely, and lived within his means. But the mystery of the boy Weasley now led around would probably stay that way.
“He’s a mirror image.”
Draco looked at his wife of 10 years and smiled. “Do you ever regret it?”
Hermione leaned up as far as her belly would allow and kissed him. “Never.”
Draco grinned and turned to wave his son off to Hogwarts. It had taken every trick in his book. That anonymous tip was almost found out and he managed to barely escape it. But he had finally gotten what he wanted. And woe to anyone whowould try to take it from him.

AN: And that's all she wrote. Feels good to get at least one story off my plate. Drop me a line and let me know how I'm doing. Until the next one... love you guys!
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Getting What You Want