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Forgiven	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 18105 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned Harry Potter or the books or contents. This work is purely for my own pleasure, no profit to be made.

Chapter List
- 26
- 27
- 28
Hermione was sitting near the fireplace in her home, her feet tucked under her and a thick volume on her lap, when her wand rang again. Draco spotted the wand and snatched it first, studying it curiously. Hermione jumped up and made to take the wand away from him, but being the taller of the two, the wizard easily kept it out of arms reach.

“How does it do that?” he asked, eying the wand as he turned on the spot to keep her from grabbing it.

“It’s a spell,” she said as she tried to jump up and get it. “Give me my wand.”

He twirled the wand in the air, mimicking the wrist movements Hermione had made a few days ago. When nothing happened, he frowned. “There’s an incantation,” he observed and he glanced at her.

His arm was just low enough that she was able to grab the wand from him. “There is an incantation,” she told him as she drew a phone in mid-air. When she reached for it, he snatched that up as well. “Draco!”

He jumped up on the coffee table and studied the device carefully. “What does this button do?” he asked as he pressed the green button. He heard a voice on the other end and held the phone to his ear… upside down.

“Hello?” he answered.

Hermione glared at him. “You’re holding it the wrong way,” she growled.

He righted the phone and pressed it against his ear again. “Hello?” he repeated.

The masculine voice on the other end answered, “Hello? Is this Malfoy Estates and Corporation?”

Draco hopped off the table and strode to one of the armchairs. “It is,” he told the voice. “This is Draco Malfoy speaking. May I help you?” He fell into the armchair and took his own wand out, drawing random patterns in the air that meant nothing.

“Yes, this is Wendell Wilkins. The other day I spoke to a lady there, a Ms. Hermione Malfoy, about a trip my wife and I had won to visit your estate?”

The Slytherin nodded. “Ah, yes. Hermione had told us you had won,” he said, glancing at his wife.

Hermione scowled at him, her hands on her hips as she tapped a foot. He gave her a smirk and winked at her.

“Yes,” Wilkins, aka Mr. Granger, said, “And we can come at any time?”

“Of course. The vacation can be done at any time during the year,” Draco informed.

He could hear another voice, this one more feminine, speaking hurriedly to the man and tried to listen to what they were saying. After a moment, the man spoke up to Draco again, “Would mid-September be alright? I know it’s an odd time of the year, but my wife has been wanting to go to England to watch the changes of the seasons.”

The Pureblood smiled. “That would be perfect,” he said. “Malfoy Manor during that time of the year is quite beautiful and I doubt your wife will be disappointed.”

“Very well. We’ll make arrangements with the airline for the 15th of September,” Wilkins stated.

A cheshire cat of a smile spread across Draco’s face as he nodded. “We look forward to seeing you,” he said. They bid their farewells and, like before, as soon as Wilkins hung up, the phone disappeared.

“What is that smile for?” Hermione asked. “What did he say?”

Dusting off his shirt, Draco stood up and walked up to her. “You’ll have to teach me that spell sometime, love,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist and giving her a soft kiss.

She pushed at him. “I’m not teaching you anything, you prat,” she huffed. “You should have let me talk to him.”

“You will, love,” he assured her, dipping his head so he could tease her neck. “They’re coming here”

She tried not to giggle as his nose tickled her. “Did they say when?” she asked.

He slipped his hands under her blouse. “They did.”

She pulled away from him to try and catch his eye. “Well? When?”

“When what?” he asked, kissing her jaw and running his hands along her back.

“Draco!” she gasped as she pushed him away again. She reached back for his hands, trying to pull them off of her. “When are they coming?”

He cupped her jaw and kissed her lips tenderly. “They’ll come when they said they would,” he told her.

Her eyes widened and she scoffed. “You’re impossible!” she snapped. “They are my parents. I have a right to know when they are coming.”

“And I told you,” he surmised, glancing down at her. “They’ll come when they said they would come.”

“I want to know,” she moved to slap his shoulder, but he caught her hand, “when they are,” she tried slapping him with her other hand and he caught that one two, “coming! Let me go!” She struggled in his grasp.

“Then don’t try to hit me,” he said, simply, but his patience was starting to wear. He released her and stepped out of the embrace. “Do you always have to be the insufferable Know-It-All?”

“When it comes to my family, yes,” she answered as she straightened her blouse.

He rolled his eyes. “They’re my family, too, now, remember?” he said, frowning. “Or have you forgotten that you married me?”

“Of course I didn’t forget,” she growled. “I would still like to know when they’re coming.”

He sighed and shook his head. “You’re not really one for surprises, are you?” he asked.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she thought on it for a moment. “A surprise is when you pop into my job and offer to take me to lunch,” she stated. “I don’t mind those surprises.”

His eyes narrowed. “You already know I’m going to do that. That’s not a surprise,” he told her.

“No,” she replied. “I don’t particularly like surprises. They always turn out poorly.”

Draco stared at his wife for a moment, going over what she had just said. Silently, he decided that he would make it his mission to convince her that not all surprises were bad. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he told her. “While I agree that some surprises aren’t great, there are some that can be nice.”

She sighed. “When I was a little girl, I used to love surprises,” she told him, honestly. “My father would tell me we were going on a trip or to see a movie and I would be tickled. Innocent gestures like that are lovely and I do still enjoy opening presents for my birthday and Christmas.” She glanced at him. “I was never one of those children to sneak in my parents’ bedroom to see if I could discover what they had bought me. But fighting a war takes a toll on a person. Watching friend after friend get blasted away and witnessing the harsh realities of the world aren’t exactly surprises I enjoy.” She sat down in one of the armchairs.

He nodded as he joined her, sitting in the chair opposite hers. “Christmas was always my favourite holiday,” he confessed with a smile. “My parents had to put spells on their hiding spots because I was one of those children who would sneak around to see what I got. Not because I didn’t want to be surprised, but because I wanted to play with them.”

She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. “That does sound like something you would do.”

He shrugged. “I was a kid and it was fun,” he defended. “And again, I agree with you on the war. Those were tough times, believe me. Christmas that year was the worst, and not because of the lack of presents. Hell, once the Dark Lord returned, life sucked. No matter how hard I tried, at any moment, he could have killed my mother out of spite, or to prove some sadistic point. And when my father had returned from Azkaban, it was even worse. Did you know he had his pet snake actually eat someone right on our dining room table? Professor Burbage…” He stared down at his hands as he remembered the scene and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “I never knew her. Father had thought Muggle Studies was a waste of time and instructed me not to bother with it. But to watch her be eaten… I kept my eyes glued to my hands, but hearing it was just as bad. Mother had the table destroyed.”

Hermione’s eyes were sprinkled with tears. “I did know her,” she told him. “Our third year, I had taken her class. She really was a sweet lady. Very funny and patient. She didn’t get upset when I would correct her and, in fact, often would ask for my opinion about things.”

His eyes shot up and he stared incredulously at her. “Why in the world would you, a Muggle born, take Muggle Studies?”

She gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged. “I wanted to learn about the Muggle World from a wizarding perspective. It was pretty fascinating, to be honest, and I only took it that one year.”

He shook his head slowly in disbelief. “You’ll never cease to amaze me, Hermione,” he told her. “You could have all the knowledge in the world and you’ll still want to know more.”

“No one could have all the knowledge in the world,” she commented, rolling her eyes.

(II)(II)

It wasn’t until much later after their conversation that Hermione realized Draco hadn’t told her when her parents were coming to the Manor. The thought perturbed her, but there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it at the moment as they were both at their respective jobs.

Around noon, she received an owl from Draco letting her know that he would be late for lunch due to some figures he and his father were working on and, “If you want to go ahead and eat without me, love, I will understand. I’ll try to be there no later than 2 o’clock, but I can’t give you any guarantees. Father’s working my bones off. Love always, Draco.”

She sighed and glanced at her clock. She wasn’t really all that hungry and determined that she could wait until the time he mentioned. A knock on her door caused her to glance up quickly. “Come in!” she called and turned her attention back to the missive she was writing.

Hearing the door open and shut, she said, “Give me a moment to finish this. I think you’ll like my new proposal for house elf rights, Draco, it…” she stopped as she glanced up to see, not her husband, but Ron standing there. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you as well,” the ginger haired wizard said. “Disappointed?”

She glanced at the clock and saw it was a quarter until two. Turning her attention back to the wizard, she sighed. “Considering the fact that I’m starving and my husband should be here at any moment, yes, I am a bit disappointed. Why are you here, Ronald?”

His eyes narrowed. “So quick to remind me that you’re married,” he huffed. “I came to tell you that they moved Ginny into a normal room and they are looking to release her in the morning.”

The Muggle born tilted her head to the side. “Why couldn’t Harry tell me this?”

“Because Harry won’t leave her side and they won’t allow owls into the hospital,” he told her in annoyance.

“Doesn’t Percy work here?” she questioned. “Or even Angelina? I’m sure one of them could have given me the message.”

His frown deepened. “Is it really so bad to talk to me, Hermione? We used to be friends, or have you forgotten that?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” she admitted, “but you haven’t really acted much like a friend, have you? You’ve accused me of despicable things, treated my husband with utmost disrespect, and refused to admit that I have moved on! You rarely ever treated me right and when I needed you the most, you weren’t there.”

“And I apologized all those times,” he said.

“No you haven’t,” she scoffed. “And even the times you have… Look, we all make mistakes. I get that. But there are some things that we just cannot come back from.”

“What? Like becoming a Death Eater, perhaps?”

“Stop making this about Draco!” she shouted. “If you’re so jealous about him marrying me, then you should have thought about that before you started sleeping around!”

Ron’s eyes narrowed as he snarled, “I wouldn’t have started sleeping around if you hadn’t been such a prude. How long did it take him to get in your pants?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “If you must know, Draco Malfoy is a gentleman and he actually had the decency to wait like I wanted. He never once pressured me into doing something he knew I wasn’t ready for.”

“So, that’s why you got married so quickly,” he surmised.

The witch shook her head. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” she said, waving a dismissive hand at him. “You make assumptions and just go with it. That’s always been your way. Assume and then apologize when your assumption proves wrong. Have you ever thought to just ask before assuming?”

“He’s a snake, Hermione,” the redhead pointed out. “And worse, he’s a Malfoy.”

“Yeah, well, you know what?” she snapped. “I’m a Malfoy, too, and I’m proud to be one.”

He stared at her. “He’s a slimy, no good, Slytherin Death Eater scum, Hermione! He’ll use you and…” he stopped as she pointed her wand at him.

“Say one more thing,” she challenged him. “That is my husband you’re talking about and so help me God, I will not hesitate to hex you if you continue. You only wish you could be half the man he is and you would do well to turn your arse around and leave my office before he gets here.”

He held his hands up in surrender, but glared at her angrily. “Ginny’s in a normal room at St. Mungo’s,” he spat. “Visitors can go see her until nine tonight, so if you want to see her, then do it.”

The wizard then turned on his heel and walked out right as Draco was walking in. The blond glared at the ginger as Ron pushed past him roughly. Draco did not take his eyes off of the man until Ron had turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

When the blond turned back into the room, he gave his wife a single, quick nod. “He’s gone,” he told her and watched as she lowered her wand. “What did he want?”

She sighed and plopped down into her chair. “To tell me that Ginny is receiving visitors now. They moved her to a better room,” she told him.

He raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t usually cause a person to threaten another with a wand,” he commented. “What happened?”

“You didn’t listen in?” she asked.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t have a reason to, do I? No, Father and I just finished going through the records, looking for errors, so I thought I’d pop in and see how you were faring. I see no reason to spy on my wife. It’s not like I have to win your heart,” he said, giving her a small smirk.

She rolled her eyes. “He insulted you,” she told him. “One day I will need to sit down with Father and find out exactly what happened to drive the Malfoys and Weasleys into such a feud. It really is ridiculous.”

Draco gazed at her for a moment in wonder. “Thank you,” he said, earning a curious look from Hermione, so he elaborated, “for sticking up for me.”

She shook her head. “You’re my husband, Draco,” she explained. “It would be silly to not defend you, and honestly, the things he accused you of are things from the past.”

“Things like what?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She gave him a bored look. “I really don’t want to get into this,” she told him. “Mostly he wanted to know if we were still friends, but I haven’t really forgiven him yet.”

“And you shouldn’t,” he said, sitting up straight. “Look, the bloke cheated on you. And not just once, I wager. Merlin only knows the other things he’s done. You can’t possibly forget about the Yule Ball or our sixth year.”

She frowned as she looked at him. “You are determined, aren’t you?” she commented. She sighed as she leaned back in her chair. “Eventually, I will have to forgive him, though.”

“No, you don’t,” he scoffed. “Hermione, he wasn’t the best…”

“We’ve been through a lot together,” she said, cutting him off. “You don’t know everything that happened during the war or the years before. He’s… well, he’s a bit like a brother to me. No, no, hear me out. It was a mistake to date him. Whether it was because I actually fancied him or because I felt obligated, I’m not so sure anymore. But he has always been a friend, a good friend.” She had a thoughtful expression on her face. “More than likely his concern now has more to do with his protectiveness over anything. He’s never had a reason to like you, some of that coming from this old feud, but some of it also coming from the bullying you and your comrades did during our school years. You taking the Dark Mark didn’t help matters either.”

“You don’t expect me to apologize to him for becoming a Death Eater, do you?” he asked, looking almost scandalized.

She gave him a soft smile and shook her head. “No more than if you were to apologize to him for being blond. However, you also don’t make it a point to assure him that I’m ok.”

“I shouldn’t have to,” he growled. “You belong to me, not him.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” she stated simply. “I’m your wife, not your property.”

“All the same,” he argued. “You’re my wife. You married me. If he can’t trust your judgement after all these years, that’s his problem, not mine.”

She glanced at him and sighed. “You do understand why, though?”

“I understand enough,” he told her as he walked around the desk and helped her up. He turned her in his arms so her back was facing the desk and pressed her against it. Dipping his head, he whispered in her ear, “I know he’ll never make you feel the way I do. He’ll never know your soft moans of pleasure or your cries of ecstasy.” The blond wizard lifted the Muggle born onto the desk and slipped between her legs. “He’ll never touch you as intimately as I have or kiss you in places that are moist and sweet.” He pulled away from her slightly so he could gaze into her eyes. “It matters not what he says or does. He’ll never have you as I have, nor will he ever love you as much as I do. You are my witch, always have been, from our first kiss under the stars until our last breaths. And even when I am gone from this world, we’ll still be together. Never apart, because I found you. It took me long enough, but now that I have you, I am never letting you go.”

She had never heard such sincere words before and she stared into his eyes, searching for the deception. When she found none, she licked her lips and lifted a hand to bury in his blond locks. “I love you,” she breathed, continuing to look into his eyes.

“And I you,” he told her. Unable to stop himself, he kissed her lips and pressed his body against hers. The reaction was instantaneous as she wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her other hand to hold onto his shoulder. He made quick work of his trousers, unzipping them and pulling out his cock. He didn’t bother with undressing either of them, just simply pushed her knickers out of the way so he could plunge into her heated wetness.

They both groaned as he entered her completely. Grabbing her hips, he began thrusting into her like an animal starved for attention. Their mouths crashed against one another and she threw back her head, tightening her grip on his hair. “That’s it, witch,” he growled between thrusts.

His lips latched onto her neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there as he built momentum to his thrusts. He knew they were on a time crunch, but he needed her at that moment. It wasn’t long before she was screaming his name and crying out to him to not stop. When he felt her start to shudder, he picked up his speed, wanting to finish with her.

Draco found himself living for these moments. Hermione threw her head back one last time and gave a great scream and he followed her, filling her with his seed. As he climbed down from his high, he rested his forehead against hers and made a silent prayer. Let this one take.

They rested for a moment, catching their breaths. Once the world stopped spinning, Draco gently released her, helping her to stand. He then fixed his trousers, tucking himself back in. “Are you alright?” he asked her as he helped her straighten her clothes.

She nodded and, looking at him, gave a breathless laugh. “Your hair,” she said, lifting her hands to pat his hair down.

He smirked. “I do believe this is the one time in my life that I really don’t give a damn about my hair,” he told her, truthfully. He took her by the hand and led her towards the door. “Let’s go see that friend of yours, shall we?”

(III)(III)

They stopped by a local flower shop on their way to the hospital because Hermione had insisted. Draco stared uninterestedly at the flowers while his wife seemed to fall in love with every set up there. “Just pick one,” he sighed, glancing at a particularly pretty rose bouquet.

“I had a friend once, back during primary school, who could tell you the meaning of every flower in existence,” she commented, bending down to smell a lily. She smiled. “What I wouldn’t do to have her here with me now.”

“Muggle?” he questioned, glancing at her.

The Gryffindor frowned. “Unfortunately,” she admitted. “Though I do think I may look in Flourish and Blotts later to see if they have a book about flowers and their meanings. Or perhaps in Muggle London.” She turned and saw a rather interesting bouquet filled with deep blue irises and several red tulips. “Oooo! This looks lovely!” She picked it up and turned it around so she could properly look at it. “I wonder if Neville has any books on the subject that I could borrow.”

“I’m sure he does, love,” the Pureblood wizard stated. “Are you going to go with that one?”

She smirked at him. “Wager you weren’t this boring when picking out a bouquet for me,” she teased.

He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t spend an hour looking for a bouquet either. I knew what I wanted, informed the florist, and allowed her to do her job,” he explained.

She sighed. “Alright, fine, but if Ginny doesn’t like them, I’m blaming you,’ she told him as she strolled past the Slytherin to the checkout counter.

He rolled his eyes as he walked up to the counter and paid for the flowers and vase.

(IV)(IV)

Hermione knocked lightly on the door to the room. “Come in,” she heard the melody of her friend’s voice chime.

She gave her husband a warning look. “Be nice,” she hissed.

His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m always nice,” he said, looking a bit annoyed at the notion that he might not be.

As they entered the room, Hermione was not surprised to see dozens of get well gifts scattered all over the place. From balloons and stuffed animals to cards and flowers, there was everything. Harry sat in the chair nearest the bed eating a box of chocolates while Ginny sat up. The ginger haired witch smiled as she saw the Muggle born.

“Hermione!” she said, holding her arms out for her friend.

The bushy haired witch quickly made her way to the bedside and, holding the flowers in one hand, hugged her friend in the other. Harry gently took the flowers away from her allowing the girls to properly embrace one another.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the younger witch. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thanks,” the girl replied. “The Healers say I can go home in the morning. I wanted to leave now, but they insisted that I stay for the night. They wanted to make sure everything was fine before they released me. Harry here seems to agree with them.” She glanced at her husband and Hermione could tell they had argued about it before she got there.

Harry frowned. “I’m only concerned about your health. What happened was a nasty incident and I want to make sure everything is alright.”

“Says the man who’s battle dragons and an evil dark wizard,” Ginny sniffed, giving Hermione a sidelong glance. She looked a bit beyond Hermione and saw Draco standing there. “You can come in, Malfoy. I’m not going to bite.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure? Last time we spoke you nearly took my head off.”

Ginny laughed. “Oh, yes, I meant to apologize to you for that. Between being pregnant, seeing your father, and not being able to drink at all, I think the stress had gotten to me.” She gave him a serious look, one that spoke truthfully. “I really am sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to do was ruin your wedding.” She turned her attention back to Hermione and added, “Especially since you were marrying the most beautiful Muggle born in the world and my sister.”

Hermione blushed. “Am not,” she said.

The younger witch huffed and declared, “Name one Muggle born who’s prettier than you and I’ll call you a liar. So, changing the subject,” she giggled, “how is married life? Any buns in the oven yet?”

Hermione blush turned even darker and she shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Though it’s not for lack of trying,” Draco said, earning a glare from Harry. Thankfully, the Slytherin chose to ignore it.

Ginny sighed. “Ah, well. All in good time, yes? We are still young and have loads of time for children.”

Harry stepped next to Draco and said out of the corner of his mouth, “They have her on a Pepper-Up Potion. She’s been like this for the past hour now.”

Draco nodded in understanding as his wife asked, “So any word from the Harpies yet?”

This earned a sour expression from Ginny and the ginger picked up the box of chocolates Harry had abandoned and picked through them. “They benched me,” she said as she took one chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

“You do understand why they did that, don’t you?” Draco questioned, staring at the witch.

The Pureblooded Gryffindor groaned, “Officially, they said that I wasn’t in a fit state to play. That the loss of my child has taken a toll on my body and I need time to recuperate. Unofficially, they’re trying to find out who sent that rogue Bludger my way and how it got there with no one knowing.”

“You’re lucky it didn’t kill you,” the Slytherin pointed out.

The ginger glared at him. “No, just my baby. Trust me, Malfoy, if I ever find out who killed my baby, I will have them arrested, tried, and thrown into Azkaban for the rest of their lives. I will throw every possible charge at them and not blink an eye.”

He nodded. “And you would be well within your right,” he said. “Though, it could be a tough case, especially if they didn’t know you were pregnant at the time.”

“You don’t really read the paper much, do you?” she asked. “My pregnancy made headline news last week when I finally began to tell people about it. If they didn’t know about the pregnancy, then they were living under a rock. Or just getting married,” she added with a smirk.

Draco glanced at the raven haired man. “Have you any leads?” he questioned.

“There are several,” Harry admitted, “though it’s hard to pinpoint just one yet. We’re still looking for motives. And I’m not allowed on the case.”

“Why not?” asked Hermione, glancing at her best friend.

Harry sighed. “Because it’s personal. The department doesn’t want me anywhere near the case because they fear what I might do if I found the suspect.”

“Tell me Ron’s not on the case,” the Muggle born ordered more than asked.

“Oh, Hell, no!” Ginny immediately answered. “You know how quick he is to temper. You tell him that so-and-so threatened me and he’ll be on a one way train to Azkaban in a heartbeat. He’s worse than Harry.”

“I wouldn’t count on that, Gin,” Harry argued. “These people threatened my wife and killed my child. I’m not above making a person who threatens my family wish for death.”

“Yes you are, Harry,” the ginger said tiredly. “You’re better than any other man on this planet.”

Hermione smiled as she glanced at the repulsive look on her own husband’s face. “Oh, I’m sure that can be debated, Gin,” the Muggle born witch said in a teasing tone.

“Come off it,” the younger witch argued. “Harry’s worth about ten of most of the wizards here in the wizarding world alone.”

“I’m not interested in listening to you two talk about how great I am,” the bespectacled man said. “It’s bad enough I get it from the rest of the world on a daily basis.”

“Thank Merlin I’m not the only one,” Draco sighed, looking a bit relieved. “Thought I would have to box my own ears for a moment there.”

“You still can if you like,” Ginny stated, hopefully.

Hermione gazed lovingly at her husband. “Don’t worry, my prince, you’re still handsome,” she said.

“Oo!” Ginny cooed with a smile. “Your ‘prince’ now is it? How well did that honeymoon go?”

Hermione blushed and looked away as Draco momentarily blanched. The ginger haired Gryffindor giggled, “That well, huh?”

“Oh, Gin, you know I can’t talk about those things,” Hermione said, though she giggled herself.

“Why not?” the younger witch asked. “Did the Slytherin Prince not live up to the rumours?”

The Muggle born shook her head. “Oh, no, that he did,” she confessed. “And then some besides. I’m just not sure this is really appropriate talk.”

“It’s not,” Draco stated, the colour in his face returning. “But I do appreciate the comment, love. Good to know I was more than acceptable in bed.”

Hermione grinned. “Yes, well, if this were Hogwarts and your abilities were to be graded, I would say you received an Outstanding.”

A satisfied smirk graced Draco’s lips at that and Harry made retching noises. “Definitely not something I need to hear about,” the messy haired man said, looking a bit green.

Ginny giggled. “Oh, I have to hear it from somewhere.” She sighed and gave the bushy haired witch a sad look. “Merlin knows, I won’t be seeing any action any time soon.”

Hermione frowned. “Why not?” she asked.

The young Gryffindor leaned back against her pillows and sighed. “The Healers said that while most of my body is healed, that area will need time to heal on its own. The most I can do at present is work on my fellatio skills.”

It was Draco’s turn to give a look of disgust. “Whose fault is that?” he asked, trying to change the subject before the girls got too carried away.

“That I’m not sure about,” Ginny told him. “But when I find out…”

The blond shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. What were you doing on a broom when you knew you were pregnant?”

Ginny frowned. “Many pregnant women fly on brooms. And they practice. There is no law stating that I can’t practice while pregnant.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the point of practicing if you won’t be able to actually play?” he asked, folding his arms.

The witch’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t be pregnant forever,” she told him. “And after the baby is born…”

“You’ll have to care for it,” the Slytherin stated. “You talk as though you’ll have time to play your game and care for a newborn.”

“I would,” she said.

“You wouldn’t,” he argued. “It’s a nice thought, to be sure, but once you have a child, that child becomes your life. Everything gets put on hold for it, especially if you’re a mother.”

Ginny glared at him. “How would you know? You’ve never had a child.”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I haven’t, but I will and soon if I’m lucky enough. I’ve spent hours talking to both of my parents about having and raising children.” He moved to stand closer to his wife. “I don’t agree with all of their methods. Merlin knows I will never teach my children to be prejudice. My children won’t be nearly as spoiled as I was as a child either. However, parents should spend as much time with their children as they can, especially the first five years. When you become a parent, everything changes and it will never go back to the way things were before. The way they are now. You’ll never be the same again.”

“You’re repeating the things your parents told you,” Ginny pointed out. “Each family is different.”

“Of course it is,” he agreed. “But the sentiments remain the same. You don’t have to take my word for it either, Potter. Just wait. You’ll see. My father says he knew the moment he first held me that things would be different. Suddenly, he had little desire to be part of the Dark Lord’s plans, but once you take the Mark, you cannot turn away from it. If you do, you and your entire family are sentenced to death.”

“He still spouted Voldemort’s beliefs,” the ginger stated sourly.

Draco nodded. “And he believed them,” he told her.

“Believed? You say that with a past tense, as if he no longer believes that Purebloods are somehow better,” the witch commented, looking at the Slytherin curiously.

He shrugged and placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Having your only son marry a Muggle born changes things, doesn’t it?” he questioned. “Don’t doubt, there’s still a lot of dislike there, but the more time he spends around Hermione, the more he changes. There’s actually a plan in place to bring her parents to the Manor soon. Father’s going to restore their memories.”

Ginny looked at Hermione and the older witch nodded. Ginny’s eyes widened. “How does he intend to do that without a wand?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Draco lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “It’s magic,” he said. “Not all spells require a wand. It just so happens that this one does not.”

“How convenient,” the young witch groused. She glanced at Hermione. “Are you sure you can even trust him? I mean… he was a Death Eater.”

Hermione took a deep breath and placed a hand over Draco’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “I do,” she told the girl. “Would you like to know why? It’s because he’s family now. And family means everything to old Lucius. Regardless of how he feels towards the rest of the world, he’ll do anything for family. We saw that during the final battle, did we not?”

“The final…?” Ginny stuttered. “Hermione, he was wandless, lost, and didn’t even participate in the final battle. You can hardly use that as a reference of how he’s changed.”

The Muggle born shook her head. “I’m not.” Seeing her friend getting ready to argue, the witch insisted, “Really, I’m not. If you want the truth, I don’t think he’s really changed at all. Still the same cold, ruthless son of a bitch we’ve always known, but that’s just it, isn’t it? What do you really know about Lucius Malfoy?” She sighed and glanced down at her free hand. Her other hand remained holding Draco’s as she spoke, “I didn’t really get to know him until after I married Draco and I still don’t feel I know him well. But I’ve seen the passion in his eyes when he speaks of his family members, whether it’s Draco, Narcissa, or even myself. He doesn’t even like it when I call him ‘Mr. Malfoy’, preferring instead to me using the term ‘Father’. I think he finds it endearing or something, I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you just call him ‘Lucius’?” Ginny asked, staring at her friend skeptically.

The Muggle born glanced up at her husband before looking back at her friend and shrugged. “He’s never given me permission,” she said. “The Malfoys are a traditional lot. When Narcissa and I started to get to know one another, she told me I could call her by her given name. After a while, I changed to the more intimate term of ‘Mother’, but I think she was half expecting it.”

The Pureblood wizard said nothing as his wife spoke of their family, but he did allow her to hold his hand and even squeezed when he was getting ready to say something nasty to the little redhead. But he knew this meeting wasn’t about him. Well, not really. Finally, a thought came to him and he spoke up, “Actually, Potter, my father did wish to speak to you about a particular matter.”

Ginny’s eyebrows furrowed and she pinched her lips. “Why doesn’t he come here and speak to me then?”

A single blond eyebrow lifted as he regarded her. “You do remember that he’s under house arrest?” he asked. “If he were to come here, he would be arrested on the spot.”

She threw him a dull look. “If anyone saw him performing magic, he would be arrested on the spot,” she reminded him, but he shook his head.

“No, he wouldn’t. He’s not using a wand, so it doesn’t really count, does it? His sentence clearly states that he is to be stripped of his wand and he’s to remain on Malfoy grounds,” he told her. “He can easily Floo from one Malfoy house to another and no one said anything about using wandless magic.”

“Probably because no one knew he could perform wandless magic,” Harry stated, staring at the heir thoughtfully.

Draco shrugged. “Not my problem. Not his problem either,” he commented. “They really should have paid more attention. Wandless, and even wordless, magic is something he excels at. Had to after the first war.”

Hermione glanced up at her husband curiously. “What happened during the first war?”

The Slytherin frowned. “Didn’t you ever wonder why Father’s always using a walking stick? Or why that stick carries his wand? Honestly, love, you should ask him some time,” he told her, looking up at the Potters, he continued, “he was injured during that war and, for the longest time, couldn’t stand without the assistance of his walking stick. So, he taught himself wandless magic to make it a bit easier, to keep at least one of his hands free.”

Ginny sat up and straightened the pillow behind herself before leaning back again. “Surely he must have healed by now. Why in Merlin’s name would he still carry that stick with him?”

Draco shrugged. “Habit? It’s sort of a crutch, isn’t it? He’s become rather attached to it,” He smirked as he added, “Besides, he does give him a bit of an imposing air, doesn’t it?”

“He doesn’t scare me,” Ginny declared hotly.

“No,” the blond purred, “and I doubt he would. Gryffindors are so foolishly brave, even in the worst of times.”

“Oh God,” the ginger said, shaking her head and looking away. “Sometimes, Malfoy, you sound just like him.”

Draco laughed at that. “You live with the man for nearly twenty years and see what you end up learning.”

“No, thanks,” she commented, waving a hand at him.

His laughter died to a small chuckle and tapered off as he glanced down at his wife. “Are you about ready, love? We still have to meet with my parents for supper.”

Hermione looked up at him and sighed. “I suppose so, though it does getting tiring eating with your parents every night.”

“It’s not every night,” he argued. “Just tonight.”

“And last night, and the night before… Honestly, Draco, we’ve eaten there every night since we returned from France,” she commented.

He pouted. Hermione’s eyes widened as she couldn’t believing he was actually pouting. “Father’s been in prison for the past two years, love. Can’t we spend just a bit more time with them? I’m sure even I will become tired of being in their presence after a while,” he whined.

Ginny snorted and covered her mouth to hide her giggle.

The Muggle born blinked several times. “Are you serious?” she asked in disbelief.

And there it was. Large, sad grey eyes stared at her and his bottom lip quivered a bit. The bushy haired witch didn’t know whether to smack him or burst out laughing. Thankfully, Ginny decided for her as she was overcome with a fit of giggles. The blond wizard glared at the ginger witch. “Think it’s funny, do you?” he asked in a voice that was almost reminiscent of the boy Hermione had known at Hogwarts.

That was what did it, too, throwing Hermione into her own fit of giggles as she stood up. “Come on, little prince,” she teased. “Let’s get you home before you start embarrassing yourself.”

Knowing he had won, Draco straightened up suddenly and, head held high, walked with confidence towards the door. “See you later, Potter,” he said rather cheerfully.

The girls laughed some more as Hermione hugged each of her friends and began following him. As they left, the Potters could hear Hermione say, “Thank Merlin you’re cute, otherwise, I’d bend you over my knee and wallop you.”

Draco glanced at his wife and lifted an eyebrow. “We could still do that, if you like,” he told her. “Only, I would insist on bending you over my knee.”

Hermione groaned as she continued to the lifts. “You really are impossible, you do know that, right?” she asked as she stepped on the elevator.

He shrugged as he stepped up behind her. Dipping his head down, he kissed her gently on the lips and whispered into her ear, “And I’m all yours.”

As the lifts stopped, Hermione shuddered.
Author's Note: Hello lovelies! Hope you all had a great Christmas!

Defossil: Can't wait to see what happens next!

Trelweny: Ron will always bring out the worst in Draco, which includes his old childish habits. Harry does, too, but I think Draco is going to learn more with how to cope with Harry, because The Boy Who Lived isn't going anywhere. That's Hermione's brother and Draco will have to learn how to get along with him. (And with Ginny, too, honestly.) Wonder what's going on behind closed doors to cause Narcissa to automatically jump to the... wrong conclusions. *Giggles* I love me some Lucissa
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