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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
- 29
- 30
- 31
The tattoos turned out amazing. Eddy had given them both a 3D look that made it seem like the dragons were actually sitting on their arms rather than looking flat. To Hermione’s surprise, Draco’s dragon turned out to look very much like a Hungarian Horntail and the Slytherin looked quite proud of it.
“It actually looks like the dragon is digging its claws into my skin,” he said, astounded.
Hermione smiled and glanced down at her own tattoo. Her dragon was poised, its wings flared out, as though it was getting ready to fly right off her arm. “Eddy’s always done incredible work,” she commented as she pressed a finger gently to the tattoo. She leaned against her husband. “They both look fantastic.”
“Maybe Father won’t be angry after all?”
Whether Lucius was angry or not, the patriarch did not say. In fact, he gave little notice to the tattoos when he saw them, though his wife did manage to articulate her own displeasure.
“It really isn’t right for a lady to mark her skin,” she said absently as she stared at Hermione’s tattoo.
“It really wasn’t right for a lady to carve the word ‘Mudblood’ in my skin, either, but it still happened,” the Muggle born retorted a bit more shrewdly than she had meant. “At least I chose this and won’t be ashamed to show it off at all.”
Though in all honesty, Hermione hadn’t been ashamed to show off the scar either, but the new tattoo did look a bit more respectable in her opinion. People were rather rude when they saw the scar, demanding to know why she would carve such a nasty word into her skin. At least the tattoo complimented Draco’s and she could pass it off as such.
Much to Hermione’s displeasure, she could see the hurt in Narcissa’s eyes at her comment. “I’m sorry, Mother,” the younger witch said softly, touching the older woman’s arm. “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. It’s just…”
Narcissa nodded and patted the girl’s hand. “I know,” she said with tears in her eyes. “My sister was cruel and vicious. As much as I hate to admit it, though, you’re right. Better to have something more positive and I do like how it looks almost like a continuation of Draco’s tattoo. Or perhaps a companion?” She looked at her son. “Are they Horntails?”
He shrugged. “If they are, the man’s a genius,” he told her. “The bloke Hermione had taken us to was a Muggle. I doubt he knew anything about our world.”
The young witch giggled. “I wouldn’t be surprised, though, if they were a pair of Horntails. I remember catching my uncle flipping through a schoolbook of mine about dragons.” She glanced at Draco. “Remember when we learned about…” her face fell and she frowned, glancing down at her arm. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” She sighed. “Technically we didn’t learn about them. I had bought the book during a trip to Hogsmeade, right before Harry’s first task in the Triwizard Tournament. I get so wrapped up in learning new things about our world that I sometimes forget what we learned in school and what I taught to myself.” She shook her head. “Anyway. That summer, Uncle Eddy had come to visit us and I had forgotten the book on the couch.”
“A relative of yours?” Narcissa asked curiously.
Hermione shook her head, but it was Draco who answered, “He’s her dad’s old mate. They went to school together and played… What was that sport called again, love?”
“Rugby,” Hermione said.
The older witch inclined her head. “I do believe Lucius brought me to a game once,” she admitted. “Of course, it was more out of curiosity than anything. Brutal sport.”
The young witch grimaced, but nodded all the same. “I’ve found that most sports tend to be a bit brutal. Very competitive.”
(II)(II)
About a week before the derby, Ginny had gathered the girls together and insisted upon going shopping. To Hermione delight, the young ginger was very excited and she and Luna had taken to bouncing as they looked through the various shops in Diagon Alley.
“Theodore gave me some money so I could buy myself a nice dress,” Luna told the Pureblood. “I told him he didn’t have to, but he insisted. Such a lovely gentleman, isn’t he?”
Padma walked beside Hermione. “It’s really kind of your father-in-law to indulge us,” she said, looking calmly through one window. “How are you getting along with your new family, Hermione?”
Hermione shrugged. “They’re not so bad,” she admitted. At Padma’s raised eyebrow, the Muggle born sighed. “Really, they aren’t,” she insisted. “Lucius had toned down from asking me every day whether I’m pregnant or not. And Narcissa… Well, she really is a lovely woman. Very calm and poised in everything she does.”
“Did you receive any grief from them about your tattoo?” the dark skinned witch asked as they stepped into a shop they had seen Ginny and Luna bound into.
Hermione tilted her head in thought. “Not as much as I had imagined they would,” she confessed. “Narcissa had questioned the decision, of course, but I think she liked how the tattoos seem to complement one another.”
Padma touched a light beige dress with gold beads sewn onto it to give it a sort of Indian look. She grimaced and moved to another dress that was crimson in colour. “This looks nice,” she said as she picked it up off the rack and checked the size.
“It is beautiful,” Hermione agreed, her own eyes falling on a light blue cocktail dress with yellow and pink embroidery along the bottom. Small yellow bees looked as though they were flying from one pink flower to another.
“That is cute,” the Ravenclaw started, “if you wish to give your in-laws the impression that you really are pregnant.”
Hermione quickly put it back and picked up a grass green cocktail dress. She rolled her eyes. “More green,” she said giving Padma a look that made the other girl chuckle.
“You’re married to a Slytherin,” the Indian witch told her. “I think the both of us can expect to see a lot of green in our lives from now on. Might as well get used to it.”
Hermione tilted her head. “Has Blaise proposed?” she asked, holding her breath and covering her mouth with her hand.
Padma shook her head. “No, but it’s really only a matter of time, isn’t it?” she said as she picked up a pink dress similar to the one Hermione was holding. “They aren’t looking for easy shags anymore. These boys, or young men rather, come from really old wizarding families, don’t they? It’s really common for such families to marry young. In fact, I think even my own parents married at a young age, though my mother is a Muggle born.” She grabbed another cocktail dress that was a darker blue than the one Hermione had held previously and handed it to the Gryffindor. “That might look nice on you,” she said. “It’s all about getting married and giving birth to the next generation of wizards for them. Though, having children is rather difficult, especially for the old wizarding families.”
“I’ve heard that,” Hermione said. “Draco had told me that it had taken his parents four or five times before they gave birth to him.”
“It’s all that inbreeding,” Padma hissed. “You see it with the rest of the animal kingdom. Most animals don’t do it and those who do? The offspring usually come out with some sort of deformity, whether physical or mental. It happens among humans, too, and even more so.” The Ravenclaw shook her head as she grabbed a yellow dress from Hermione’s hands. “No, don’t try that,” she said. “Your skin is too pale, your hair is too dark, and it’ll really wash you out. Try the dress I picked out for you.”
The two went to the dressing rooms where Ginny and Luna were taking turns trying on various dresses and giggling. Hermione smiled at her friends as she slipped into one of the stalls and began changing into the blue dress Padma had picked out for her. The cocktail dress buttoned at the neck and had a dip along the back of it. Hermione frowned at the fact that she wouldn’t be able to wear a bra with it. On the plus side, the skirt seemed to flare out, the trim dancing along her knees whenever she turned.
She stepped out from the stall and all three of her friends smiled at her. “Oh, Hermione!” Ginny gushed. “You look so beautiful. Draco’s going to surely die when he sees you.”
“That is a pretty dress,” Luna agreed. She glanced at the Indian girl standing next to her. “Are you going to try on your dress?”
Padma held the crimson dress in her hands and glanced down at it, debating. “I suppose I should,” she sighed as she slipped into a stall herself to try it on.
By the time Padma emerged, Hermione had already changed back into her regular clothes. The dress Padma wore was tight fitting and fell down to her knees. There were no arms to the dress. Instead it seemed to be held up by Padma’s breasts, giving her a nice amount of cleavage. “I’ll need to charm it so it doesn’t fall off,” she said as she looked at herself in a mirror.
Hermione gave a low whistle. “If Blaise doesn’t propose at the game, I’m going to smack him upside his head,” the Gryffindor witch stated and the other two girls nodded in agreement.
(III)(III)
The rules of wizarding derby were simple enough. Each team had four players: two for offense, one for defence, and one to protect the large pole on the ends of either field. There was one large ball about the size of a Quaffle and each person had a stick that looked much like a hockey stick with a bigger, flatter end to it. The ball floated in the middle of the air and the players had to guide it with their sticks to the other team’s pole. Unlike Quidditch, the score was singular, however, extra points could be earned if the opposing team managed to dominate the ball throughout a single play. If the ball flew too high or too low, it was considered out of bounds and the play had to start over again.
It sounded easy enough, but having the players on horseback did make things a little more difficult. Penalties were given if any horse was harmed. As such, if a player had possession of the ball, then the other players were not allowed to guide their horses in front of the possessor. Furthermore, players could not sideswipe another player’s horse and any bumping was cause for penalty shots.
There were other penalties as well, but Hermione didn’t really worry about those. Like with Quidditch, learning about all the penalties and such would actually require a bit of research and the Muggle born had already done all of that. She had spent the week before the game studiously reading every book she could about wizarding derby.
“It really is fascinating,” she was telling her husband as they began climbing to the box. “Each player is weighed and measured to insure they maintain a specific weight. For optimum speed, the horses only carry so much and if the player does not weigh enough, actual weights are added to the saddle, much like Muggle horse races.”
He nodded as he opened the box door and held it for her and their friends. “You’ll have to show me one of your Muggle horse races some time,” he said. “I’ve heard they can be quite intense.”
“Oh, they can be,” she said offhandedly. She pointed to the field. “The ball isn’t allowed to roll in front of the horses, either, in case it trips one of them up.”
Draco smiled as he watched his wife turn to the other girls and listened as they chatted happily amongst themselves. “I do think this was a good idea,” he commented to Nott as he sat down in one of the chairs.
Potter sat with them, watching the girls in amazement. “I do think Hermione is enjoying this game more than she did Quidditch,” he said. “I remember Ginny telling me about it and it sounds interesting enough, but…”
“It’s a game on horses, Potter,” Zabini stated as he, too, sat down. “There’s just something about a horse, or any animal, that makes girls enjoy the game more.” He glanced at Draco who was still watching his wife. “I’m surprised Hermione didn’t bring one of your dogs with her today.”
Draco blinked and shook his head. “No,” he admitted, “I haven’t shown those to her yet. Knowing my luck, she’ll want to keep one or two at the manor. I’m not sure I’m ready for all that yapping yet.”
Zabini chuckled as he rested his arm across the back of the chair next to him. “I’m thinking of purchasing one from your father for Padma,” he confessed. “She mentioned having one as a young girl, but it had passed on right before she received her letter.”
Potter stared at Draco for a moment. “Your dad breeds dogs, too?”
Draco shrugged. “Not as much as he used to,” he said. “He has about two mated pairs, but that’s about it. His main interest is in the peacocks, the owls, and horses.”
“What does he do with those peacocks anyway?” the raven haired man asked.
“Shows them,” came the simple reply. “Every year he takes them to this large aviary where they are judged on beauty, grace, flight, and standard. Icicle, the bird Greyback had eaten, had been one of my father’s most prized birds. He had earned three blue ribbons in his short life and could have earned more if he had lived.”
“Icicle,” Potter thought aloud. “Wasn’t that the name of a horse? Only, Hermione had told me that Greyback had eaten a horse.”
The three Purebloods looked at the Half-blood and laughed. Draco shook his head. “Hermione!” he called. “My love, come here for a moment.”
The Muggle born looked at her husband curiously before excusing herself from the girls and approaching him. “Yes?” she replied as she sat beside him.
“Did you tell Potter that Greyback had eaten one of our horses?”
“I did,” she answered with a look of confusion on her face. “It’s what you told your father. That Icicle had been…”
He shook his head. “Icicle was a peacock, not a horse,” he corrected her. “Greyback would have been trampled alive if he had attempted to eat one of the horses. Herd protection and all,” he explained. “It was hard enough trying to seclude Starlight long enough to put her down, much less if anyone would attempt to hunt one of the beasts.”
“Oh,” she said, her eyes widened. “But you had told your father that the birds were alive. I thought you meant all of the birds.”
“And I did,” he confirmed. “All except for Icicle, which was probably his most prized bird. I’ll have to show you some old photos later so you can see.”
She nodded slowly. “I must have misunderstood. The way you made it sound, it seemed as if all of the birds made it and Greyback had eaten a horse,” she said.
“I apologize for the confusion, love,” he told her as he leaned over to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. “Go ahead back to your friends. The game will start soon. Oh, and make sure you root for Fiery Stallions. The number three horse is one of our own.”
Hermione grinned as she nodded. “I’ll let the others know that. Can’t wait to see a horse bred from your father’s stock actually compete.”
“Not my father’s stock,” he corrected. “Those horses belong to the estate, so, it’s our stock. They belong to all of us, though Father usually makes the decisions on them.”
Hermione dipped her head and returned to the front of the box where the other witches sat and talked about the upcoming game. “Draco said to root for the Fiery Stallions,” she told them as she sat back in her seat. “He said that the third horse was actually came from Malfoy Estates.”
“Oh, wow!” Luna breathed. “Now that’s exciting to hear. Wait! I have an idea.”
Luna took her wand out and conjured a large piece of fabric. As the girls, and even the guys, watched, she made a few more complicated movements of her wand and the white sheet was suddenly emblazoned with a large, silhouette of a rearing winged stallion. A few more enchantments had the stallion actually racing around the sheet, stopping to rear each time he made a complete turn.
Taking the ends of the sheet, Luna walked to the back of the box. Theodore stood up to help her pin it to the back. “Merlin, Luna, that looks incredible,” he praised.
The young Ravenclaw beamed. “I thought it would be nice to show our support.”
She then did something Theodore did not expect. Waving her wand at the yellow dress she wore, she changed the colours of the dress to match the banner, complete with the running horse. “I’ll have to make a hat some time, though I don’t really have the time to do it right now.”
Theodore smirked before he grabbed the small girl by the waist and twirled her in his arms. She threw her head back and laughed, putting her arms out and wide and bending her knees. Her laughter was infectious and as Theodore brought her down, everyone was laughing. Without even thinking about it, he pressed his lips against hers.
Hermione began clapping for the couple, she was so excited. Ginny giggled at the sight as they watched Luna wrap her arms around his neck and allow him to deepen their kiss.
The sound of a cannon caught the attentions of all of them and Theodore and Luna broke apart as the game started. Eight men on horseback flew out into the field. The Fiery Stallions wore white and yellow jerseys with rearing red stallions on them. The numbers were embroidered on the jersey arms and the saddle clothes and Hermione was quick to find and point out the third horse.
“Oh my God, he looks beautiful,” the Muggle born said excitedly.
The other team, the Avenging Furies, flew in perfect uniform and wore purple and white jerseys with black running horses embroidered on them. They did a couple of circles around the field along with the Fiery Stallions before going to their positions.
One horse from each team flew over to their poles while the other horses gathered around the middle where the referee hovered, holding a large blue ball in her hands. Putting her whistle to her lips, she let the ball fall from her hands and backed her horse up. Once she was in the clear, she blew her whistle and the game was on.
The Avenging Furies had the ball first and Hermione pressed her hands on the window to get a closer look. She felt, rather than saw, as Draco stepped up next to her. “What his name?” she asked as she watched the number three horse for Fiery Stallions fly beside the other horse.
“Comet,” Draco replied. “Well, technically, it’s ‘As Fast as a Comet’, but we just call him Comet.”
“Go Comet!” the Muggle born shouted.
Her words were echoed throughout the box and soon everyone was standing against the window to get closer looks at the game. Comet’s rider managed to steal the ball from Avenging Furies and was guiding his horse and the ball, away from them and back towards their pole.
The girls screamed and shouted as points were made for the Fiery Stallions. When the other team scored, there were collective groans from all eight of the friends. Penalties had been given to both teams.
The game only lasted for four quarters, each about 30 minutes long, for a total of two hours, plus a 30 minute break. However, the game did not actually end until a little over three and a half hours, mainly due to the time outs and penalties.
After the game was over, the friends decided to have supper at a local Italian restaurant. They sat in a special V.I.P section of the restaurant thanks, in part, by the owner knowing and respecting the Malfoys. “Can’t fault your father for doing what he thought was best for his family,” the owner had told Draco. “He really is a fine man, but like all fine men, he has his flaws. We’re just glad he saw the error of his ways before it was too late.”
Draco inclined his head. “It almost was too late, Mr. Giovanni. The Dark Lord had purposely set me a task that he was sure would kill me,” he said. “All because Father had angered him.”
Mr. Giovanni was an older wizard with a pot belly and white tuffs of hair above his ear and bunched in his white brow and nowhere else on his head. Hermione suspected the rest of his body made up for it, judging back the thick, coarse hair on his arms and poking out of his shirt collar. But he had kind brown eyes that spoke of a youth long gone, but not forgotten.
The old proprietor shook his head. “Such a shame,” he muttered. “So much innocent blood was spilled and lost because of the whims of that madman.”
“He wasn’t a man,” Hermione stated. “He was a monster, but he’s gone now.”
The old man smiled at her. “Such a fine young lass,” he said, bowing his head to her and kissing the back of her hand. He held her hand a moment longer and looked at Draco. “You take care of this girl, boy. You hear me? I’ve heard many stories of young Miss Granger and I know you’ve made a respectable woman out of her. Keep treating her right and she’ll do you plenty of good.”
“I will,” Draco agreed. “Always the best, only the best, because she deserves no less.”
The proprietor turned his attention to the bespectacled man. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you, Mr. Potter,” he said. “If it weren’t for you, we would still be living in terror of that creature. For that reason alone, the tab is on me tonight.”
Harry’s eyes widened and he began to protest, “Oh, sir, you don’t…”
Mr. Giovanni raised his hand to stop the boy. “Don’t argue with me, boy,” he said sternly. “My restaurant, my rules. You think I’m going to make you pay when you have a beautiful woman on your arm? No. Your money’s no good here, Mr. Potter. And that goes for the rest of you. Eat and drink as much as you want. It’s a three course menu and more than enough wine.”
Defeated, Harry gave the man a soft smile. “Thank you, sir,” he said.
There was soft chatter as they ate their meals and the conversations mostly revolved around the game. “When will the Fiery Stallions be playing again, my prince?” Hermione asked as she rolled some spaghetti around her fork and ate it.
Draco shook his head. “I’ll have to ask Father,” he answered.
“Oh, please do,” Ginny begged. “I’m going to have to renew my derby magazine subscriptions so I can keep up with them.”
“You’ll have to give me the name of the magazine you read,” Luna said softly as she took a sip of her wine.
The ginger haired girl agreed and they finished their plates. As they waited for their desserts to come out, Blaise turned to his girlfriend. “I suppose I should do this while we’re waiting,” he said, and they all looked at him.
Taking her hand, he smiled at her. “You look beautiful, mi cara,” he whispered. “I have never met a witch quite like you before. You understand me in a way no one else can. After the war, I didn’t think I would ever smile again, but you brought life back into my life. For the first time in over three years, I’m laughing again. I’m not worried about walking on the streets in the daylight anymore because I know you are by my side. I would like to keep it that way.”
Moving out of his seat, Blaise bent down to one knee and pulled out a small black velvet box. “You would make me the happiest man in the world, mi cara, if you’ll agree to be my wife,” he said, looking up into her eyes.
Padma had tears in her eyes as she touched her lips with her fingers. Though she had predicted to Hermione that he would indeed propose to her this day, it was still an emotional moment for the girl. Her lips widened into a smile, pulling back to show her glistening white teeth as she nodded. “Yes, yes,” she whispered and threw her arms around his neck.
Laughing, he caught her around the waist and held her close. He pulled away just a bit so he could kiss her.
Hermione rested her head on Draco’s shoulder as silent tears of happiness for her friends cascaded down her cheeks. She watched as the newly engaged couple broke apart and, laughing, slipped the ring on Padma’s finger.
Immediately, the Ravenclaw showed off her new jewellery to her friends. “A blue diamond?” Ginny asked as she gazed at the rock. “It looks beautiful.”
Padma nodded eagerly. “Blue diamonds are my favourite,” she told them. “Their rarer than white diamonds and I think they look fancier.”
Blaise inclined his head at the ring. “Best part is,” he said, “it is a family heirloom. I actually found it amongst my mother’s jewels. Asked her if I could have it.”
Theodore glanced at Luna and chuckled. “Looks like we’re going to have to hunt for new friends,” he told her with a smile. “Everyone at this table is married.”
Luna gazed up at him and then back at her plate. “They are not married yet,” she said wistfully. “You still have time.”
Theodore paled as the rest of the group began laughing.
(IV)(IV)
“How was the game?” Lucius asked as he cradled his glass.
Draco shrugged. “It wasn’t too bad,” he admitted as he sat in the chair opposite of his father. “The Fiery Stallions won and Comet ran really well.”
The older wizard nodded as he stared into the flames of the fireplace. “I would expect nothing less,” he said. “Comet is a fine horse and any losses the Stallions receive will be because of the other team members.”
Draco studied his father for a moment. “Should you be drinking that?” he questioned.
Lucius glared at his only son. “It’s my damn house and my damn liquor! I will drink when I want and however much I want and if your mother has a problem with it she can suck my dick because I don’t give two flying fucks what anyone says.”
The young wizard didn’t respond, knowing his father was drunk and there would be no getting through to him right now. He knew his father was hurting. Two years in Azkaban only to be let out under house arrest for twenty years. Sure the older wizard can visit his other properties by going through the Floo Network or Apparating, but it wasn’t the same. Lucius had become no more than a bird in a gilded cage.
“Have the crups had any pups lately? I haven’t been by to check,” Draco asked, attempting to change the subject.
It seemed to work as Lucius took a sip of his brandy and stared into the flames. “The one bitch did,” he told his son. “The other one is still pregnant. I was thinking about seeing if Mrs. Potter wanted one.”
“I know Blaise wants one,” Draco said as he leaned back in his chair. “And I was thinking of giving one to Hermione.”
“Has she gotten pregnant yet?” came an automatic question from the older wizard.
Draco raised an eyebrow. “We haven’t had sex since the last time you asked me, which, in case you’ve forgotten, was this morning.”
Lucius waved his son off. “You’d better get on with it, boy,” he said. “Time is being wasted every second she remains childless.”
Frowning, Draco pursed his lips before saying, “What would you have me do, Father? Having a child isn’t easy, you know that. And it’s not like we aren’t trying. We shag at least two or three times a day, sometimes even more.”
Lucius huffed in annoyance and took another pull of his brandy. “You’ve been to the Healer?” he asked.
“I have. She has, too. We’re both perfectly healthy and, in fact, the Healer has suggested that maybe the reason Hermione hasn’t gotten pregnant has more to do with stress than any normal ailments. And antagonizing her about getting pregnant isn’t helping!” the young wizard said, emphasizing his last sentence by banging his fist against the arm of his chair.
Lucius scoffed and looked away. “This is your responsibility, Draco,” the man said, his eyes watering from staring into the flames for so long. When he finally looked at Draco, the young wizard could see his blood shot eyes and the bags underneath them. Draco could also see the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow. “You are a Malfoy and you have a duty to uphold.”
“Father,” Draco asked softly, “have you been sleeping at all?”
The patriarch sniffed and looked away from his son. Draco watched as the older man’s left leg started twitching violently and uncontrollably, an old pain that returned to Lucius from time to time. A reminder of what happened when the Dark Lord was displeased. The young man remembered a time when Lucius would carry his walking stick around, not because he needed it, but because he thought it looked stylish. Draco was too young to remember when Lucius had first had the stick custom made to hide his wand inside of it, but the boy had always enjoyed playing with the snake head. Lucius would get onto him, of course, especially when Draco started showing his magical abilities, but the punishments were never too severe.
Now Lucius needed the stick. After the Dark Lord had been defeated, Draco had taken the parts of the stick and had them refashioned in case his father ever got out of prison. Now the snake head rested against Lucius’s chair, it’s hollowed out core a constant reminder of the wand that used to sit within. Maybe once Lucius finished his sentence, he would get another wand and have it fastened into the snake head.
Looking at the shell that had once been his father, Draco could see how torn he was. Was he still upset over that Chamber? Or was it something more? Lucius was really good at hiding whenever people were around, but from what Narcissa had told Draco and his wife, the patriarch was slowly starting to give up.
“He needs you, Draco,” the woman had said. “He needs you to help him fight whatever demons he’s facing.”
But how was Draco to help his father fight his demons when he had his own to defeat?
They heard a loud pop! And a woman hollered for Draco. “One moment, Father,” he said as he rose from the chair and went into the hall. “Hermione?”
She rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck. Caught off guard, Draco took a step back and placing his hands on her waist. “Are you alright, love?” he asked as he tried pulling her away.
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. Touching his cheek, she stood on her toes and kissed him. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Draco returned her kiss and even deepened it before she threw her head back and laughed.
“Oh, you don’t know how happy you’ve made me,” she said, looking up at him. “You brilliant, sweet, incredible man! Did you do whatever you had to do today?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “All I was doing was speaking with my father,” he said.
Grabbing his hand, she pulled him into the study where he and his father had been. Lucius hadn’t moved from his spot, but looked up when the young couple entered. Hermione rested a hand on her husband’s chest.
“Are you alright, Father?” she asked, unable to contain her grin.
He nodded and held up his nearly empty glass. “As well as can be expected, my dear,” he rasped.
She giggled. “Then you won’t mind if I borrow my husband for a moment, would you? Thing is, I really want to take him home so I can make passionate love to him for the next two or three hours.”
Draco’s eyes bulged and he glanced at his wife in disbelief. Licking his lips, he tightened his hold on her waist.
Lucius finished his drink and inclined his head to her. “Go,” he told her, “and shag away.”
Giggling some more, Hermione glanced up at Draco, kissing him before they both Apparated away. The moment they appeared in their bedroom, Hermione grabbed Draco by the collar and pushed him onto the bed. He wasn’t fighting her, either, as he found himself actually enjoying this aggressive side of his wife.
She kissed him passionately as she crawled over him, one leg resting on either side of him. She pulled at his trousers, ripping his belt open and pushing it aside before popping the button and unzipping him. She didn’t have to dig much into his trousers before finding his already hardened cock and pulling it out.
Having hiked her skirt up around her waist, she impaled herself on him. Their moans echoed as they broke their kiss. Draco fell back onto the bed, holding her hips as she rode him. It was definitely a nice change of pace for the wizard, but she rode him hard and rapidly. “Slow down,” he said, his fingers digging into her waist. “You’re going to make me come too soon if you keep going so fast.”
“I want,” she panted, bracing herself on his chest as she continued her movements, “you to come. Come for me, baby.”
He blinked as sweat began to sprinkle along his brow. Growling, he met her thrusts, grabbing her hips more firmly and pushing up into her. “Like that?” he grunted through gritted teeth.
She threw her head back and gave short shouts of pleasure. “Yes! Yes!” she chanted, her hands clutching and pulling at his shirt. “God, yes! Oh, oh, oh!”
She was no longer moving as he was taking over entirely, thrusting up into her with a vengeance. With one final thrust, he forced his cock as deep into her as he could and came, filling her with jet after jet of his come. Weakened by what had just happened, Draco collapsed back onto the bed, releasing his hold on her and she slumped over, lying on top of him.
For such a short, quick fuck, they were both sweaty, but neither of them really cared. He lifted a lifeless hand and let it fall onto her back as his eyes drooped. After a while, he whispered, “What was all of that for?”
Raising her head slightly, the witch glanced up at her husband curiously. “Do I need a reason?” she asked.
He laughed. “No, no, you don’t,” he replied, “but I know you, love. You rarely do things without a reason. Especially with the way you spoke to my father.” He raised an eyebrow at that last sentence.”
With her arms on his chest, she propped herself up so she could look at him properly. Her face contorted in disgust. “Your father is a drunk, Draco,” she said. “I know he’s upset over Ginny, but that happened years ago and he apologized. She’s over it.”
He shook his head. “That’s not it though, is it?” he responded. “Yeah, he’s upset over Potter, but he’s more upset over what could have happened to you, or worse, to me.”
Her frown deepened. “The basilisk wasn’t attacking Purebloods,” she pointed out.
“No, but the effect would have been the same if a Pureblood would have crossed paths with it,” he told her. “He thought he was being clever, getting rid of a connection to the Dark Lord and embarrassing an enemy of his all in one go. Think someone would have questioned her on where she got the book from? Or even more important, do you think the book even knew who had kept it for so many years? Or that the Aurors would have checked?” He shook his head. “Father thought he was killing two birds with one stone, love.”
“Still doesn’t mean he should waste himself away on booze,” she argued. “There are other ways he can handle it.”
“Like?”
She rolled off of him. “I don’t know. Buy her a pony. Take Ginny horseback riding or buy her a new broomstick. Or even better, take some time and actually get to know her,” she suggested. “Stop being so rude to her family.”
He nodded. “Don’t know how well getting along with her family would go. The feud goes a lot further back than my father and Arthur Weasley.”
“I don’t care what he does, honestly,” she said with a huff. “My parents will be coming here soon. I don’t want them meeting a drunken old man.”
He inclined his head. “We’ll work on that,” he promised. “Father will be sober when they come. Now,” he purred as he rolled onto his side and gave her a devilish smirk. “What was the reason behind your sudden spontaneity? And what can I do to earn a repeat performance?”
Both of her eyebrows rose in momentary surprise and then she gave him a smirk of her own. She slipped off the bed and lifted her chin up slightly. “Well, you could start by telling me when my parents are coming,” she suggested and he laughed.
(V)(V)
It had taken much prying on Draco’s part over the next couple days to convince Hermione to teach him the telephone spell. Once she did, though, he secretly began trying to figure out how to get the calls from her parents sent to his wand instead of hers. She still didn’t know what day they were coming and he wanted to keep it that way.
He wasn’t trying to be cruel. Draco genuinely loved his wife and wanted to see her happy. However, the lure of a birthday surprise was much too tempting for the Slytherin. He knew his “number”. Taking a trip to the airport helped him learn how to get in contact with Wendell Wilkins and, calling the number given to him, Draco gave Monica Wilkins, Wendell’s wife and, coincidentally, Hermione’s mother, the “new phone number” with instructions to call as soon as they landed, but didn’t tell Hermione about it.
The next couple weeks saw Hermione consistently busy and Draco liked that. It took her mind off of her parents and her curiosity of when they would show. Laws preventing house elf abuse began to be announced in the Daily Prophet and Quibbler and more than once the Malfoy family, Hermione and Draco in particular, made the front page. Lucius was beginning to sober up.
Hermione still hadn’t managed to get pregnant, but the couple did not let that small fact get in their way. They knew what they had to do and they did it often. Draco had suggested they prepare a room on the chance she did become pregnant, but Hermione refused, claiming it could jinx their chances. “I won’t build my hopes up just so they could be dashed,” she told him.
Narcissa had finally started renovating the old drawing room, tearing down the walls and removing the furniture and musical instruments to be retuned and refurnished. She had chosen to have the walls painted white with small hand painted flowers spread throughout. When the furniture was returned, they were no longer dark and emerald green. Instead, Narcissa had taken a page out of Hermine’s book and had chosen warm tones, mostly various shades of beige and brown. The piano was still black, but it was polished and perfectly tuned, as Lucius demonstrated one night while running his fingers along the keys. He didn’t actually play anything, though, but no one was really disappointed.
One morning, after Hermione had gone off to work, Draco found himself in his old room in Malfoy Manor. He walked the room slowly, stopping when he came upon his old school trunk. Kneeling down, he opened the trunk, batting away some dust that had flown up into the air. He didn’t remember when he had last cleaned the trunk out, but it didn’t matter much. “Maisey,” he called and waited for the little elf to pop into the room.
“Yes, sir?” she squeaked as she appeared in the room.
He looked up at her. “I need you to redistribute a few old textbooks of mine,” he told her. “Most of them can go into the library here at the Manor, but I have a couple that I would like to toss.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir, Master Draco, sir,” she said.
He gave her a soft smile and patted the floor next to him. Taking the hint, the little elf sat by him, waiting for the books. His old Standard Books of Spells, as well as his Potions book were all sent to the library. He also decided to keep all of the old textbooks Snape had taught from, running a hand over the cover of his old Potions book as memories of his time in Snape’s Potions class struck him. He closed his eyes and swore he could still smell the staleness in the air from that classroom. Potions had always been his favourite class, not just because he loved the subject, but also because he enjoyed the lessons Snape had taught. Even Slughorn hadn’t been that bad, though he did play favourites.
He also decided to keep his transfiguration books, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, his Herbology book, his Runes books, and the Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts. He very happily tossed his Monster Book of Monsters and Dark Arts Defence: Basics for Beginners. He debated over his history book, but in the end, decided to keep it. Maybe he could give his child a head start early enough for the class.
He also tossed many of his essays and notes as well as empty inkwells, broken quills, and a number of other things he didn’t understand the point of keeping. At the bottom of his trunk, something caught his eye and he dug further down to pull it out. He squinted at the old, faded photograph, wiping the dust and wood shavings off of it. He blinked. “How…?” He tilted his head curiously at the photo.
He knew he had a photograph of himself and Hermione dancing the night of the Yule Ball. For years he had kept it safely hidden and would take it out to look at and remanence on what he had thought could have been. Now that the “could have” had become “will one day be”, he had allowed Hermione to take the photo and even frame it, setting it on the mantle in their small, well what he considered small, home. But this? This was a photo of them in the library at school. Hermione was engrossed in her schoolbook while Draco sat a couple of tables away from her.
He did remember the scene. After that fateful night of the Ball, he would often find himself staring at her, silently wishing she was his, just as he was doing in the photograph. The Draco in the photo stood up and moved to approach the girl, but stopped short. The wizard could see the pain cross the boy’s face, frowning at his own indecision, before turning back to the table he had been at before.
Holding the photo in one hand, Draco searched his trunk, looking for any evidence of the one who had given it to him. What he found was an old, yellow envelope. Setting the photo on his lap, he carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a bit of parchment with writing on it.
“Dear Malfoy,
Here’s that photograph you wanted. I was curious why you were willing to pay so much for something that would probably have gotten thrown into the rubbish bin, but then I saw something I never thought I would. I took another photo, showing you what it was I saw. I doubt you care much for the advice of a third year, but I’ll give it anyway. Hermione Granger is one of a kind. Whatever man decides to marry her one day, will be a lucky bloke. Personally, I think it’ll end up being Harry or Ron, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be you. You don’t need me to tell you that she’s worth it. Try not to let her blood get in the way of what could potentially be your “happy ever after”. If you do end up with her, hold onto her for as long as you can. Girls like her only come once in a lifetime, if they come at all.”
It was signed “CC”. While Draco had never really taken the time to get to know the boy, he had seen the boy’s uncanny naivety. Creevey had been loyal to a fault, idolizing Potter and believing in him when most others had turned away. He read the letter again and stared at the photo. Could it be that Creevey had believed in Draco as well?
Gently slipping the letter and photo back into the envelope, Draco resealed it and tucked it into his robes, thinking Hermione might like to see them. At that moment, his wand went off. Shaking the daze out of his head, Draco withdrew his wand and drew a mobile in the air. Taking the mobile, he answered it, “Hello?” He heard a crack in his own voice and straightened his throat. Stronger, he said, “Hello.”
“Yes, is this Draco Malfoy?” came the answer.
“It is. Wendell Wilkins?” Draco asked, though he had already recognized the voice.
“Yes, my wife and I have just landed at the airport.”
The wizard nodded. “Right. Wait for me at the entrance to your gate. I’m on my way,” he instructed before he hung up the “phone.” He glanced at Maisey. “Tidy up the rest of this mess, but don’t toss anything away until I can go through it, minus those books I gave you to toss, of course.”
“Yes, sir,” she said as she stood up and began magicking the items back into the trunk.
Draco smiled as he straightened his clothes. “Time for me to go meet the parents.”

Author's Note: SO sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter. There was just so much going on! And even more will be happening in the chapter to come!
Guess no one really liked that last chapter, as I got no reviews. *Shrugs* Maybe you'll like this one more and comment on it? Tass likes to read what you all think. I promise I'll even give you a mention at the end of the next chapter. :) Please don't forget to rate and review! I really do love them!
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