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The Runaway	By : Quotewhore7 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 3585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling. No profit is being made from this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-The Runaway
- 1
She needed gillyweed for the potion she had been working on when she saw him. He towered a foot over the other patrons of Diagon Alley. Their eyes met before his fell to the child beside her. Hermione took her child’s hand and pulled her down the street in the opposite direction. She pushed two galleons into the girl’s hand and asked her to visit Uncle George at the joke shop. Her daughter skipped off to enter her favorite store. She knew that the girl could be in there for hours. She didn’t need the money. George never took money from them, but it was a nice gesture. It didn’t take long for him to catch her in the crowd. He came up beside her and watched the girl disappear inside.
“What’s her name?” he asked, watching the wooden door close. Hermione hesitated, not looking at him.
“Monica, after my mother,” she finally said.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Mum, where’d Monica go?” She heard the small voice and turned. She smoothed the boy’s hair.
“She’s visiting Uncle George,” she replied, handing him two galleons. “Why don’t you go in and say hello.” The boy grinned in delight, sparing Draco a long, curious glance before he sprinted toward the shop.
“There are two?” he asked in surprise, taking her shoulder and turning her towards him.
“Twins.”
Draco pulled his hair and took her by the elbow, leading her to a cafe. He asked the shop owner if they had anything stronger to put in his coffee. They offered him rum and he poured a healthy serving into his mug. He sipped it and cringed. She sipped her tea demurely, watching the window for her children to come out of the shop.
“You should have told me,” he finally said with a deep frown. “What’s his name?”
“Drake, after his father.” She stirred more milk into her tea, her spoon softly clinking the porcelain. “What would you have done? You were about to go on an assignment.”
“That was almost ten years ago. When I got back you had moved. No one told me that you were pregnant. Not Potter. Not Weasley. Not Longbottom. No one.”
“I asked them not to.”
“Why?!” he snapped. “You never returned my owls or even howlers for that matter.” She pursed her lips and cleared her throat.
“I didn’t want them growing up here. We moved to muggle London. I didn’t tell you because I know the lifestyle that you lead.”
“The lifesty-. That’s bullshit.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“You KNOW you were the only one,” he whispered harshly.
“But would I have been forever? Children are forever.”
“Yes,” he said fiercely. “It would have been forever, children or not.”
She leaned back in her chair and studied him. His face had hardened from years of undercover work. She had known this day was bound to come. Harry and Ron kept her appraised on his whereabouts and she had seen plenty of him splashed across the pages of Witches Weekly with gorgeous woman after gorgeous woman clinging to his arm. She had worried for him. His job was dangerous and unpredictable. She didn’t want their children wondering if there father was coming home at night or if he lay dead in an alleyway. It was her own constant burden.
“Did they take my last name?” he asked in her silence.
“No. I couldn’t very well hide with them if they were running around with the Malfoy name, could I?”
“I don’t see why you would have to hide in the first place,” he said grumpily. “How old are they? By my calculations they should be turning ten in February.”
“December, actually.” She could see the math working in his head.
“Hermione,” he growled. “You knew before I left?!” He leaned forward in his chair trying to keep his temper in check. She could see the muscle in his jaw working.
“You were about to go to Serbia for six months. I didn’t find out until you were about to leave. You know my mother has a thyroid issue. I thought I was gaining weight because I had the same problem,” she replied grumpily.
“We were careful.”
“Clearly not careful enough. They look just like you.”
“I noticed.”
“I left shortly after you did. They were born in a muggle hospital where no one would know us. They go to a muggle primary school and have friends. They see my parents often. They’re happy.”
“What about you? Are you happy?”
“Yes.” He studied her face before asking a more pertinent question.
“Is there anyone else?” he asked cautiously. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“No, nothing serious.” He leaned back in his chair, looking relieved.
“What did you tell them about their father?”
She looked out the window for them to save her, but they were nowhere in sight. She sighed. Harry hadn’t told her that Malfoy was back. If she had known that he wasn’t abroad she would have waited to do her supply shopping for another day.
“I told them that you were someone I met during the war, more or less. Twins run in my family, you know. On my Mum’s side. That was probably the only part that wasn’t a surprise.”
“You’re joking. Someone you met during the war. Hermione…” he trailed off, running his hands through his hair.
“Do you know what children of Aurors go through? The constant worry, constant up and downs, no stability. I wasn’t going to raise my children like that,” she snapped.
“They’re my children too.” He clenched his mug and the remaining liquid began to boil.
“Barely.” She glared at him hard. She jumped back when his mug exploded. He apologized to the room and quickly remedied the mess.
“Surely when you come here people see the resemblance.”
“I’m sure they do, but what are they going to say? Our relationship wasn’t public. People knew we weren’t friendly.”
“I courted you for two years.”
“Privately.”
“You know my parents wouldn’t have stood for it.”
“My point exactly. You think they’d have wanted half-breed children from Harry Potter’s best friend? I think not.” She paused as the attractive waitress put down a full mug in front of Draco with a smile. He thanked her but didn’t return the friendly gesture. “Monica’s middle name, however, is Narcissa since she saved Harry and subsequently the rest of the wizarding world.”
“I want to meet them.”
“No, absolutely not.” She fished through her bag for a few coins to leave on the table.
“Wait, we’re not done.”
“Yes, we are.” She stood, tossing the money on the table.
He followed her out of the cafe, across the street, and into the joke shop where she searched quickly for her children. They were behind the counter on the floor testing out a new set of magic jacks George had been working on. George’s smile went flat when he caught sight of Draco behind her. The men greeted each other cordially but didn’t make small talk as she coerced the kids out of the store. She asked them to stand by the light post while she said goodbye. She gave George a swift hug and a knowing look before she exited after them.
“Please don’t follow us,” she said over her shoulder as she took their hands. Drake looked at him curiously again, brain working hard. Monica watched her brother, looked at Draco, and back at her brother. Hermione quickly aparated before they could ask him the inevitable.

The kids had been snuggly in bed for hours when she heard the pop and knock on the door. A second knock came louder and faster. She put her head in her hands. A third knock and his angry voice.
“I will break down this door,” he started as she yanked it open.
“You are going to wake up the whole Goddamn neighborhood. How did you find us?”
“Potter and Weasley. Unlike you, they think it’s a good idea for me to be around.”
She was going to bloody kill them. Knock both of their heads together and crush them like melons under a mallet. She stood firmly in the doorway and began to shut the door. He easily held it open with one hand.
“Why won’t you let me be here for you?”
“Because I don’t want the life you lead nor do I want that for my children.”
“Our children,” he corrected.
“Don’t think I haven’t seen you in the papers. In fact,” she snapped, reaching to her entryway table and snatching the Daily Prophet. She flicked the paper open and turned it for him to see the front page. “Here you are with another high profile model. You’re living a life that most people would kill for. Why would you want to ruin it by adding children to the mix? Just let us live our quiet lives.” He took advantage of her holding the paper and pushed his way into her house. “Malfoy,” she started. He closed and locked the door with a flick of his wand, glowering at her.
“You haven’t called me Malfoy since WE were children.”
He snatched the Prophet from her and crumpled it, tossing it on the floor. Taking her angry face in his hands, he kissed her. She pushed at him furiously but he wouldn't let her go until she surrendered. He kissed her more gently, touching her face, her hair, her neck. He melted her.
“Take me to your room,” he whispered, “before I take you right here.” She hesitated and he made quick work of pulling her top over her head.
“Okay, okay,” she said irritably.
She lead him up the stairs and cast a locking charm on each of their doors before casting another set of silencing and alerting charms. She had never once brought home a man and didn’t want the kids finding her with the same one who they saw at Diagon Alley.
He tore her clothes off and pushed her to the bed. His hands felt large and familiar as he caressed her. He slid a finger across her cesarean scar with a frown.
“There were complications. I couldn’t deliver naturally,” she explained.
“Why didn’t you heal the scar?”
“It’s a reminder.”
“Aren’t they reminders enough?”
“Not always,” she said. She pulled him down and kissed him passionately.
He made love to her the first time and fucked her the way she liked it the second. By their fifth round she was spent. His soft breath was warm against the back of her neck as she drifted off to sleep. She woke to him penetrating her and she moaned, holding him close to her by his broad shoulders. She had lost count of the orgasms she had over the span of his visit.
“Did you ever think about me?” he asked as he caught his breath. He ran a hand down her bare arm. She had always told her kids that honesty was the best policy.
“Every night,” she admitted. He gave her his signature smirk.
“And when you masturbate?” he asked knowingly. She rolled her eyes.
“Yes, also when I masturbate.” He groaned and rolled back on top over her. He lowered himself and spread her legs.
“I think about you too. Especially the way you sound when you say my name.”
He sucked on her and her head fell back into the pillows. She put her fingers in his hair and moaned his name. She orgasmed and covered her face with a fluffy pillow. He had her in the shower and again on top of the bathroom counter. He had her on her knees and against the wall. He had her so many times that she didn’t know if she would be able to walk the next day.
“You can’t be here when the kids get up,” she said as the sun started to creep through the curtains. He frowned and kissed her neck.
“Let me be here for you and our kids. Let me be here for our family,” he murmured.
“I can’t. I already feel guilty for sleeping with you when that poor girl thinks you’re hers.”
“I’ve never been anyone’s but yours,” he said smoothly. He always had a way with words. “I tried to find you, but when I couldn’t, I tried to replace you. I couldn’t do that either.”
“So you just used all of those women?”
“I wouldn’t feel sorry for them, Hermione. They used me just as much as I used them. Socialites are all the same.”
“I’m aware,” she replied giving him a pointed look. He shot her an irritable look back but didn’t say anything. “I’m surprised you were able to find us this time,” she said coldly. “How did you get Harry and Ron to tell you?”
“You know I work directly with them,” he tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve accumulated a significant collection of information they might not want public.
“You blackmailed them?!” she shrieked. “Once a Malfoy, always a Malfoy. Monica is just like you,” she bristled. A wide smile spread across his face at the mention of the girl.
“I am a little miffed that they didn’t tell me sooner. I guess their loyalty to you is still stronger than to me. They both knew I had been looking for you for years. I always wondered why they didn’t seem worried or offered to help.” He pursed his lips and gave her a hard look. “They knew all along, didn’t they?” She nodded.
“They helped set me up.” She could see his temper flaring.
“Of course they did. I will discuss it with them at a later date.” The sun was rising higher and she was feeling the panic build in her gut.
“You have to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
“The nature of your work has you going everywhere but here.”
“I resigned from my post.” She pushed him away from her in alarm.
“What do you mean you resigned?”
“I filed for a desk job yesterday after I coerced your address from Potter.”
“Why would you do that. You hate being in an office,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. The comforter slid down her bust and she quickly pulled it back up. He pulled it back down.
“I dislike the idea of losing you again more.” She scoffed at him. “If that means a desk job, I’ll do it. Shit, if that means snapping my wand and moving to muggle London, I will,” he murmured against her neck. She laid back down and kissed him. She held him in her arms, caressed his face and hair. She gave herself to him again and again until her warning alarms began to go off one at a time as the children woke.
“Now, will you please introduce me to our children?” She pulled on her bra and straightened her hair.
“You better straighten up otherwise they’ll think their father is a vagabond,” she said with a smirk. She kissed him and released all of her charms.
- 1
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The Runaway