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A Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy	By : AnasellaEmm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 75943 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter related characters, places and themes belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury and Scholastic.

A/N: Very, very, very, very sorry it took so long to get the chapter out! Please, forgive me? I love you all so very much and I thank you immensely for all the sweet reviews! The chapter title comes from the song �So Contagious� by Acceptance.

Chapter 10: This Couldn�t Be More Unexpected
Hermione awoke to the sound of water running and wondered what faucet she had left on the previous night in her flat. The few vestiges of slumber finally slipped away and she realized that 1) she wasn�t at her flat, 2) she was at Draco�s flat, 3) she was in his bedroom, 4) she had slept a few feet away from him all night and 5) she was married to him.

She shot up in bed as the heart-pounding realization hit her. She was married to Draco freakin� Malfoy. God almighty, she was now Mrs. Draco freakin� Malfoy. Groaning loudly, she sank back into her pillows and drew the covers over her head.

The sound of running water ceased and she took a peek from under the covers to see her new husband walk into the room a few moments later with a towel lazily wrapped around his waist. His flat stomach was ridged with traces of muscles and the darker blond path of treasure trail leading to the forbidden area beneath the towel caught her treacherous attention. Water droplets cascaded down his torso and his usually bright blond hair was dark with dampness as he brought another smaller towel to his head to rub it dry.

She inched the cover back over her head to prevent Draco from realizing she was gawking at his half-naked body.

The mornings in the following two weeks went just like that.

Nighttimes were Draco�s slow torture.

Hermione opted to take her showers at night before bed, so after they usually had a nice argument about something or other after dinner, she would storm off into the bathroom and come out in an overlarge bathrobe, trailing a potent scent of musky verbena and jasmine.

She would proceed to scowl at him as she gathered various items and disappeared into the bathroom again, muttering under her breath about whatever they had been fighting about.

He would watch as her pale shins and calves stomped around the room and how her face shined pink with the after-effects of a hot shower.

And then his stupid mind would imagine the bathrobe falling�

He hated his brain.

-----------------------------------

After two weeks of wedded non-bliss, Draco and Hermione had made a habit of mostly staying apart from each other, doing their separate things and only seeing each other at breakfast before work, dinner, and once they went to their own beds... and of course in the morning and at night after their showers.

On a rainy Friday afternoon that marked the start of their third week as a wedded couple, Hermione sat on the couch in her temporary home watching Zane play with his Death Eater action figures that his grandfather had given him.

The first time she had seen them was two days ago, resulting in an argument of epic proportions that had erupted between her and her �husband.�

Lying against the couch cushions, she could still remember the argument which had ended very badly� so badly, in fact, that she and Draco still weren�t speaking to each other.

She watched Zane pick up the action figures and make exploding sounds with his mouth. She let the memory of the argument replay itself in her mind as she watched him�

Hermione picked up the pair of socks that were stuffed under the bed in Zane�s room as she set about doing the laundry. After fishing out the dusty socks, she picked up the laundry basket and left the room, but not before stepping on a very pointy object� and she wasn�t wearing shoes.

�Ow!! God almighty!� she cried out, dropping the laundry basket and grabbing her foot with one hand as she hopped around the room, tears stinging behind her eyes at the pain. She cursed the toy, cursed the laundry and then cursed her husband (mostly because she was still angry at him for they had argued that morning over how she should not leave her razor near his where he could accidentally use it).

She hopped around for a few more seconds, waiting for the ridiculous pain to diminish enough for her to take a step. Having wiped her eyes from their moisture, she bent down to pick up the scattered clothes that had fallen from the basket and as she did this, she noticed the perpetrator of her pain.

She picked up the five-inch figure and studied it. It was clothed in a full-length swatch of black fabric. At first, she thought it was a monk figurine, but upon closer inspection, she recognized the tiny Dark Mark on the forearm of the faceless figure. She looked around the room and found four more of the same figurine.

She was livid.

A few hours later, Draco came home from work surprised to find Hermione sitting on the couch, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him. He tried to remember what they had argued over that morning and if she was still peeved at him.

�Uh, hello,� he said, shrugging off his cloak and looking around him for the usual attack of hugs Zane gave him upon his arrival.

�He�s in his room,� Hermione said, knowing what he was looking around for. �I�ve soundproofed it.�

�Uh-oh,� Draco rolled his eyes. �What�s up your bum?�

�This!�

She was suddenly standing in front of him dangling what appeared to be one of Zane�s toys in front of his face. He looked back at her furious face. �You put this up your bum?�

�No! I didn�t!� She actually growled at him. �I stepped on this despicable thing when I was in Zane�s room gathering his laundry.�

�Oh, well, sorry you stepped on it. Watch where you step next time and you won�t be so upset,� he said indifferently trying to step around her.

She moved again to block him, looking up at him with pure fury. �What is Zane doing with a toy like this? Do you find it funny? Is it some big joke to you? What? Are you teaching him about his heritage?�

At first, Draco hadn�t really looked at the toy, but now that the she-bitch was exploding at him, he snatched the small figurine from her hand and inspected it.

�It�s just a toy,� he snapped. �A gift from his grandfather.�

�A gift?! It�s a mini Death Eater, Draco! What kind of toy is that for a small child?� she exclaimed. �Do you know how horrified I was to recognize this stupid toy?!�

�Will you calm down?� he asked.

�No, I will not calm down! I do not want to see Zane playing with these toys,� she whispered menacingly.

�Excuse me?� He was becoming more than a little pissed off. �And exactly why would I forbid my son to play with those toys? Just because Little Miss Priss is offended by them?�

�Zane shouldn�t be playing with them,� Hermione practically yelled. �Unless you�re teaching him the history of the magic world, I want these toys out of this house!�

�Oh, that�s right. I forgot you owned the house and that you could make rules that I have no choice but to follow,� Draco drawled. �Do me a favor, Hermione, and get out of my face before I make you regret confronting me on this subject.�

�I�m throwing them away,� she said.

�You�ll follow right after them into the rubbish bin if I see so much as one of them discarded,� he said, pushing past her.

�I�m not afraid of your threats,� she said to his back as he walked to his room, unloosening his tie from around his neck. She had no idea he was contemplating how best to strangle her with it.

�Good for you.�

�I�m getting rid of them.�

�I�d like to see you try.�

�Zane should not be playing with them unless you want to tell him or have already told him of their connection to you. He deserves to know the truth.�

Draco stopped midstep and turned to face her slowly. �No.�

She backed up a step as she saw the unadulterated ire on his face. He took a step closer to her, intimidating her.

�And why the bloody hell not?� she asked.

�Because he is four years old, you great twit! He has no need to know anything about the past. Those are just some idiotic little toys and you need to drop the fucking subject before I do something rash.�

�I don�t want him playing with them,� she said softly.

�Too bad.�

�Don�t you want him to know what kind of life his family led before they supposedly found some sort of sick salvation from their sins?�

�Are you telling me that I should tell my son that I was once a Death Eater?�

�He has every right to know.�

�No, he doesn�t� and do you want to know why he doesn�t have the right to know?�

She took a shallow breath as she realized she was pressed up against the wall, with Draco still taking threatening steps towards her. He was speaking in a low, furious voice she barely recognized. He came up to within a few centimeters from her.

She looked him in the eye, actually glared at him in the eye as he was glaring right back at her.

�My son won�t know about his allegedly evil family because I was never a Death Eater. Surprise, surprise, Hermione. Are you relieved, now? Are you happy that you haven�t married the epitome of all malevolence?�

She stared at him for a few moments, looking into those grey eyes that gave away nothing. He was shielding his emotions so perfectly�

�I hope you learn not to make such debilitating accusations again,� he said before turning away from her. �The toys stay.�

�No, they don�t,� she whispered.

He heard her and turned around again. �Pray, tell me why. Why are you so damn adamant in getting rid of those toys? Are you so afraid of the big bad Death Eaters that even the most innocent of plastic figures bothers you? Are you starting to regret marrying me, the son of a former Death Eater, a person you thought, up until a few seconds ago, was a Death Eater himself?�

Hermione took a breath, wishing that her eyes wouldn�t well up with tears. She refused, absolutely refused to let the tears fall as the memories assaulted her mind. �You never had to suffer under a Death Eater�s hand�� she said so quietly that Draco had to lean closer to hear her.

�Go tell your sob-story to someone else and stop telling me how to raise my son,� he said harshly before stalking off to their bedroom and slamming the door.

Suffice it to say, they hadn�t spoken to each other since then. Even Zane had noticed the tension.

�Mummy?� Zane asked, looking up from his action figures. �Are you mad at daddy still?�

Hermione opened her eyes and looked at the small boy. He was looking at her with his large silver eyes, waiting for her answer. �Your dad and I are not very happy with each other right now.�

�Why?� he asked, discarding his toys to lie down next to her on the couch. She would never have thought any son of Draco�s could be so affectionate, so sweet, but Zane always proved her thoughts wrong.

She hugged him to her, kissing his head as he snuggled up against her. �We had an argument and we haven�t apologized to each other yet.�

Zane looked at her in confusion. She had used too many big words.

�We had a fight and haven�t said sorry to each other,� she explained again.

�Oh,� he replied. �I don�t want you to be mad at each other. You can even kiss again if it makes you not mad anymore.�

I�d really rather punch the idiot.

Hermione smiled and hugged Zane tighter. �It�ll work out soon, sweetheart. Now, why don�t you tell me about recess today with Miss Donny. Did you have fun?�

�Yes. Miss Donny made sand castles with us and she made them look real with her wand when we were all done. Wolf and me stomped all on them and we got sand in our shoes! It was itchy.�

She was just about to comment when a knock sounded at the door. It couldn�t have been Draco because he obviously didn�t knock on his own front door, and plus, it was too early for him to be back from work. It was five o� clock and he usually didn�t get home until five-thirty.

Hermione left the couch and walked to the door. She looked through the peephole to find an older woman standing outside the door. She looked to be in her late fifties, a severe short haircut and bifocals perched on the end of her nose. A business suit and clipboard rounded out her ensemble as she waited patiently for someone to open the door.

Easing the door open slowly, Hermione cleared her throat and stood before the woman. �Can I help you?�

The older woman sniffed and raised an eyebrow. �Mrs. Malfoy?�

Cringe. �Yes.�

�Good evening, I am Betsy Dalrymple here on behalf of the Ministry of Magic�s Department of Social and Family services.�

Holy shit� the Domestic Ministry Professional. Oh, dear God.

�Good evening, Miss Dalrymple, you are here for the inspection?�

�Yes, that is precisely why I am here.�

�Um, well, please, come on in. To be honest with you, we never received any notice that you were starting the inspections��

�We offered one notice three weeks ago following the announcement of Mrs. Pansy D�Aggostino�s marriage. These inspections are not to be at your convenience, Mrs. Malfoy. They are impromptu, unannounced and entirely serious.�

Retract your claws, lady.

�Well, then I�m sorry to say, but my husband isn�t home from work yet. Doesn�t he need to be here?�

�I�ll wait,� Betsy said, walking through to the living room.

Hermione thanked all the heavenly beings that Zane had left and had picked up his Death Eater toys, taking them with him to wherever he went. It was the first time in the history of time he had ever picked up a toy after himself.

�Where is the young boy?� Betsy asked, taking a seat on the couch as if she owned the place.

�He must be in his room. Do you want to speak to him?� Hermione asked, trying not to draw her lower lip in between her teeth. Showing weakness was not an option.

�Yes. I�d like to ask him a few questions. Retrieve him.�

Yes, master. Anything you say master�

Hermione left the portentous bat in the living room and walked down the hallway to Zane�s room. He was jumping on the bed, a habit he knew he could be punished for. When Hermione opened the door, he flopped onto the bed and pretended that he had been lying in it the whole time.

�Nice try, darling,� Hermione said, hiding a smile. �Your father will find out.�

Zane shot her his perfected sad look that still held a hint of mischief. �Sorry, mummy.�

�Zane, sweetheart, I need you to do something for me, ok?�

�What?� he asked, jumping down from the bed.

�A very nice lady�, (LIAR!!!), �is in the living room and she wants to talk to you for a few moments. Will you talk to her?�

�Ummmm. Ok,� he replied. �What does she want to talk about?�

�I don�t know, Zane. Let�s go find out,� Hermione said, holding her hand out for him to take. He grabbed it and walked with her back to where the Loch Ness monster sat, scribbling things down on her clipboard with a Ministry approved quill.

She looked up as Hermione and Zane entered and she gave them a sickeningly fake smile. �Hello. You must be Zane.�

Zane nodded and scrambled onto Hermione�s lap once she had taken a seat in the armchair across from the scary old lady.

�How old are you Zane?� she asked him in a cool tone.

He held up four fingers and increased his grip on Rosie. Maybe he could pretend that Rosie the dinosaur could get bigger and bigger and then eat the old lady. Rawr.

�Do you go to school?�

He nodded again.

�Do you know how to talk?� she asked edgily.

Hermione clenched her fist. Evil witch.

Once again, he nodded.

�Where do you go to school?� she asked.

�At school,� he answered innocently.

�Do you know the name of your school?�

�School,� he replied. Duh, lady.

�He goes to the Little Witches and Wizards Education Centre in Hogsmeade,� Hermione replied.

Betsy looked at Hermione over her bifocals with an impatient look. �Zane, do you like your school?�

�Yes. My friends go to my school and my mummy teaches my friends and me and I play at recess and I always play at centers with Wolf,� he explained.

�Lovely,� she said with a forced smile. �Do you like your new mother?�

�Yes. My mummy is the best mummy in all of the world and I love her,� he said. �She makes me cookies all the time and she lets me eat the cookie dough! It�s so yummy.�

Another pointed look was directed at Hermione. �You do know that raw cookie dough has uncooked eggs in it, don�t you?�

Hermione gritted her teeth. �A little raw egg never killed anyone.�

�It isn�t healthy,� Betsy said tersely, writing quickly on her clipboard.

Hermione wanted to take the damned clipboard and smash the lady over the head with it. �Zane is a perfectly healthy child. I�m a licensed child caregiver, Miss Dalrymple. I have studied and worked with young children for many years and I do not need to be told what is good for my son and what isn�t.�

�Your son?� she asked.

�Zane is my son, yes. I may not have given birth to him, but he is still my son in every other way. Please, do not patronize me, Miss Dalrymple, I will not stand for it.�

Take that, you great bitch. No one messes with Hermione Jean Granger� Malfoy and gets away with it. I�m the smartest witch of my age and you better remember it.

Before the old toad could reply, the sound of the front door unlocking drew their attention and Hermione�s heart stopped beating. Draco was home.

And they were angry with each other.

And for the past two days, he had ignored her upon his arrival and muttered a curse word under his breath as he glared at her on his way to the bedroom.

She moved Zane to the floor and jumped out of her chair as Draco entered the living room, looking down at his shoes as he shrugged off his cloak.

Before she knew what she was doing, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him smack-dab on the lips. She pulled back and smiled at him. �Hello, darling. I�ve missed you.�

He blinked at her for a few moments, an array of confusion displayed on his face.

She hugged him and whispered in his ear, very quietly. �The DMP is here.�

His eyes widened and his arms went around her waist. �My love, I�ve missed you, too,� he said. He looked up over his wife�s head to see a woman sitting on his couch watching them with a scrutinizing look.

�You didn�t tell me we had a guest, love,� he said, drawing back from the warmth of Hermione�s arms.

�I was taken completely by surprise, Draco. Miss Dalrymple, I�d like to introduce my husband, Draco. Darling, this is Miss Betsy Dalrymple from the Ministry�s Department of Social and Family Services.�

�Miss Dalrymple, a pleasure to meet you,� Draco said extending his hand to shake.

Betsy shook his hand and went back to writing on her clipboard.

He turned to look at Hermione with a perplexed expression. She gave him a sympathetic shrug and resumed her seat. Zane had raced over to greet his father.

�Daddy, mummy said I have to talk to this lady,� he explained. �Who is she?�

Draco smiled over at the woman who was watching them.

�She works at the Ministry, Zane. You know where Uncle Blaise works? She makes sure that families are always happy.�

�Oh,� he replied. �Does she know that you and mummy are mad at each other? Is that why she�s here?�

Draco and Hermione internally groaned.

The satanic smile on the woman couldn�t have been any larger. �Are you having marital problems, Mr. Malfoy?�

Who the hell does she think she is with her fuckin� little clipboard and that outdated hairdo?

�No, Miss Dalrymple, I don�t believe I�m having any marital problems. My wife and I had an argument two nights ago and I regret to say that Zane heard it.�

�Interesting,� Betsy said, scribbling on her blasted clipboard.

Hermione closed her eyes and wished that this wasn�t as bad as it seemed. �Miss Dalrymple, I truly hope you�ve noted that my husband and I have made up from our little spat. We are a normal, red-blooded married couple that sometimes disagrees on things. You surely can�t hold that against us.�

The older woman pushed up her bifocals and said nothing.

They waited in tense silence as she scribbled something down� Hermione was beyond angry at this woman�s disgusting behavior. She was incensed! How dare this woman come into their home and proceed to be entirely rude to them. They were legally married and so what if they didn�t love each other? Many married couples hated each other.

�This has been a preliminary interview, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,� Betsy said, standing up. �I�m to report my first impressions to the Ministry and you will receive your permanent DMP in the next week or so.�

She turned on her heel and let herself out.

Hermione and Draco stared at the empty seat Betsy had vacated and then stared at each other. Had that really just happened?

Draco sighed and sank down onto the opposite couch, propping his elbows on his thighs and resting his head in his hands.

Hermione�s heart broke for him. It wasn�t their fault the Ministry had sent the most sadistic, unfair, wicked, vile woman ever to grace the earth to give them their preliminary inspection.

�Are you sad, daddy?� Zane asked, putting his small hand on his father�s shoulder.

Draco didn�t lift his head as he shook it. �No, Zane. I�m fine.�

�Zane, sweetheart, why don�t you go pick two toys to take with you and then we can go out to dinner,� Hermione suggested, standing up and taking a seat next to Draco.

Zane nodded and left the two of them to their business.

�Draco,� Hermione started to say.

�Don�t say anything, Hermione,� he said, his head still down. �I don�t need to be told how brutal that was.�

�Draco, don�t let this discourage you. One evil woman�s opinion isn�t going to change anything. She�s not even going to be our permanent DMP. There is no possible way that the next one could be as bad as her.�

He lifted his head and looked at her. �I wanted to smash her over the head with the clipboard.�

Hermione laughed. �I swear to you, I wanted to do the exact same thing.�

�How long was she here before I got home?�

�She was here for about half an hour. She asked Zane a few questions and I sparred with her over my child caretaking skills. I�ll tell you one thing. She obviously doesn�t have any children of her own... bitter old hag.�

The corner of Draco�s lips lifted. �She needs to get laid to lodge that stick out of her ass.�

Hermione wrinkled her nose and shook her head. �Please, I don�t need that image. It will scar me for eternity.�

Zane re-entered the room at that point, carrying two of his Death Eater figurines. �Ok, I picked my toys. Let�s go eat!�

Hermione couldn�t believe her eyes or ears when Draco extended his hand out to Zane and asked for the two figurines.

�Z, would it be alright if we gave these toys away?�

He looked at his father in puzzlement. �Why? They�re mine.�

�Some little boys don�t have any toys to play with, Zane. They aren�t as lucky as you to have so many toys and wouldn�t you like for someone to be very happy when they get a toy that you gave them?�

Zane thought about this for a moment. �You want me to share?�

�No, I want you to give the toys to someone who doesn�t have any. It�s called donating.�

�You want me to donating?�

Draco smiled softly. �It�s up to you, son. You can give them to me and I�ll find a little boy who has no toys and give them to him. Also, your mummy doesn�t like them.�

Zane turned to Hermione. �You don�t like my toys?�

Before Hermione could answer, Draco answered for her. �She just doesn�t like these toys right here, Z. They are a bit scary because she stepped on one and it hurt like the devil.�

�Scary?� Zane asked with a giggle. �Mummy, are you scared of these toys?�

Hermione smiled, feeling stupid tears welling up in her eyes for the second time that week. �Absolutely terrified.�

�Ok. You can give them to a little boy, daddy. Are you going to tell him that I gave them to him?�

Draco nodded.

�I�m going to pick out another two toys and then can we eat dinner? I�m hungry and my tummy is making noises!�

They nodded and watched him leave the room.

�Thank you,� Hermione said quietly.

He patted her hand and quickly got off the couch, heading for the hallway leading to the bedrooms, not saying anything and not looking at her.

She stared after him, her mind traveling in a dozen directions. He was the most complicated man on the planet. He was so unpredictable� so erratic and so� so� human.

She rubbed at the hand that he had touched and it wasn�t until they had reached the restaurant that she realized her lips were still tingling from the kiss she had given him.

And it wasn�t until Draco had laid his head on his pillow that night, ready to fall asleep, the smell of verbena and jasmine so close by, that he realized he could still remember the feel of her soft lips on his.
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A Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy