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Tales of The Dragon and The Bookworm	By : cpetnm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 58350 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Title: Malfoys Don’t Divorce
Words: ~4,500
Summary: Draco finally learns to appreciate his wife.

A.N. Thanks to everyone who read and especially to those who reviewed!

@ Vgc99, Elettra21, starr: I’m glad you enjoyed The Mating and the collection in general. It’s been helping me get over my touch of writer’s block, since I don’t have to commit to something as long. Thank you for reviews! They make my day. :)

@ T-W-O: Even though Hermione had made it through the war and lived a seemingly productive life, she was complacent and isolated even amongst people, and that made her unhappy. I wanted her to find a Draco that matched not only her intellect, but wanted her on a very basic, animalistic level. Thank you for the lovely review!

@ General Crow: I’ve always been a fan of werewolf lore in fiction. I recently read the new Patricia Briggs Alpha and Omega book, and the male lead is a harsh Alpha while his mate tempers him after decades of him functioning as an enforcer for his pack. I’d like to think Hermione offered Draco some level of succor while he offered her the passion she craved. GC, I would never want to let you down and fully intend on writing you a love in an elevator scene! I am still kicking myself that I didn’t do that in the original story. As always, thank you for the kind and funny review!

“You’re always harping on every single little thing I do!”

“I asked you to pick up Lyra from school and you told me you would! I’m not your mother, Draco, I shouldn’t have to constantly remind you to do things.”

“I’m busy, trying to support our family. I know it’s hard to remember that when you spend your days enjoying playdates and reading children’s books.”

Hermione wiped a tear of frustration from her cheek. “We agreed it was important for me to stay home with the kids, but you act like it’s all fun and games. I clean up after children, make sure they’re productive, cook, and make sure all our household accounts and chores are taken care of so you can enjoy our family when you’re here.”

Draco gave her a disingenuous smile. “Oh, Hermione, thank you for doing what a capable house-elf can do. What would we do without you?”

“I’m done,” she said quietly, her throat burning with angry tears. “When you get home from work tomorrow, I’ll be gone.”

When Draco got home from work the next day, he found a note on the kitchen counter.

Draco,

I will take care of the children and their activities when you’re at work, but you will need to take them at night. I’m resuming my job as a Healer at St. Mungo’s, but I will be working the night shift.

I’ve not had time to secure a flat, so if there is an emergency, you may Floo call me at Harry’s house.

Hermione

Of course they fought, they’d been married for ten years. But she’d never left the house before after a fight. He’d slept on the couch on occasion, but after a day or two, things would blow over and they’d be right as rain again.

The Floo sounded. Ah, there she is. But instead of finding Hermione, Ginny Potter held Leo in her right arm and Lyra held Ginny’s left hand. The redhead looked uncomfortable, but gave Draco a small nod.

“Where’s Hermione?” Draco asked.

“She’s gone to St. Mungo’s. She said she left you a note?”

Draco looked at his miserable daughter. “Take Leo into his room and play with him while I talk to Aunt Ginny, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy,” his obedient little girl replied, her brown curls bouncing as she walked two year old Leo towards the bedrooms.

When the kids were out of sight, Draco rubbed a hand over his face. “Did she say anything to you?”

Ginny shook her head. “She told us she needed a place for a few days until she found a flat. I’m sorry, Draco.”

“Thanks, Ginny.”

He woke the next morning with Lyra shaking him.

“Daddy, wake up! Don’t you have to work today?”

Leo was curled into his side, the battle to get the toddler to bed lost at close to midnight the evening before. Lyra had tried to comb her hair, but at seven she wasn’t very adept with a brush. Her pigtails were lopsided and her school uniform unironed. When Draco finally looked at the clock, he realized he had twenty minutes until he had to be at work.

“Have a bowl of cereal, Lyr. Mum will be here soon and she’ll take you to school.”

Lyra’s blue eyes began to shimmer, but she just nodded and left the bedroom.

Fifteen minutes later, Leo was up and playing on the bathroom floor while Draco tried to get ready for work.

“Leo, don’t get undressed, buddy. Wait for Mummy, she’ll change you.”

“I do it!” Leo said happily, pulling off his pajamas with alarming quickness. Draco had just gotten his tie knotted when the Floo sounded. He picked up Leo and made his way to the kitchen to speak to his wife.

“Need potty, Dada,” Leo said urgently.

“Buddy, just give me a minute to talk to Mummy—“

He felt warm wetness on his shirt, which was rapidly making its way down his body.

“Fuck!”

At that moment, Hermione stepped into the hall, her Healer robes still on. Somehow, Draco had hoped the idea of her working at St. Mungo’s again was some kind of ruse to prove a point. But he could see by her tidy chignon and work shoes that she had indeed been at the hospital.

Without a word or a look, she efficiently took Leo from Draco, talking to her son as if all was right with the world. She walked away from her husband to change her son into clean clothes. Draco was in the bedroom changing when he heard the Floo whoosh and once again, his family was gone.

Pansy came into Draco’s office. They both worked as Ministry representatives to foreign governments, Draco to France and Pansy to Spain. It was a prestigious position and the friends had worked hard to secure their place in the Ministry after the war.

“Blaise told me Hermione was at the hospital last night,” she said carefully, knowing her friend had a hair-trigger temper.

He leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. “Yup. She didn’t even talk to me when she came by the house this morning.”

“Blaise’s brother’s wife is a divorce representative. She’d take you on as a client.”

He looked at her sharply. “We’re not getting divorced, Parkinson. It’s just a really bad fight. I said something exceedingly stupid, but she’ll get over it, she always does.”

Pansy gave Draco a reassuring smile. “Sure, Draco. Let me know if you need me and Blaise to take the kids for you two.”

She walked out of his office, shaking her head once she got into the hall. He’s always taken Hermione for granted. She’d given up her career after they’d had children so he could devote his full attention to his career. Hermione was the most competent witch Pansy knew and her home and family were a testament to that, but somehow Draco had never understood how much she did for them. He made light of her activities with the children and had been wholly unhappy when Hermione had insisted Lyra attend a Muggle school, even though it was considered the best primary school in the country.

Well, Hermione doesn’t do things by halves. If she left him, she’s not going back unless by some miracle Draco realizes he needs to kiss her arse for the next fifty years.

“Why don’t you tell Mummy you’re sorry?” Lyra asked her father that night.

Ginny had dropped off the kids, claiming that Hermione was catching a few hours of sleep before her late night shift at the hospital began. He’d wanted to talk to his wife, but every time he’d planned to, something got in the way.

“Mummy knows I love her,” Draco told his daughter reassuringly.

“She’s sad, Daddy. And I don’t want to live in a flat. I want to live here, with you and Mummy!” she said, dissolving into tears.

“Your mum is just mad at me. Don’t worry, love, this will blow over soon.”

He held his little girl, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

Narcissa looked at her son with total disapproval. “Are you actually trying to replace Hermione?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Of course not, Mother. I just need some help with the house until Hermione comes back. You know I’m a terrible cook. The kids are sick of take-away. I’ll even take Trudy. I know she’s too old to do much around the manor.”

“Your father has Trudy cataloging the things we store in the attic. You’ll have to ask him if he can spare her.”

“Spare who?” Lucius asked, sitting beside his wife on the setee.

“Trudy, sir. I could use a spot of help with the children.”

Lucius eyed his son. “Malfoys don’t divorce, Draco. Have you offered her a new trinket or made arrangements for a short trip away from the children?”

“She’ll come back, Father.”

“What exactly did you say to make her so angry?” Narcissa asked.

“I had a horrendous day at work and forgot to pick up Lyra from school…”

“Poor little lamb,” Narcissa said with sympathy for Lyra, imagining her sweet granddaughter waiting and waiting at an empty school building.

“And Hermione was upset that I forgot. I may have compared what she does to what a competent house-elf can do.”

His parents looked at him with a combination of disbelief and anger on their daughter-in-law’s behalf.

“I do not think I can spare Trudy at this time. But the work of a house-elf is not so complicated, is it, son?”

He was bloody exhausted. Five days Hermione had been gone and the house looked like the site of a bomb explosion. He’d never realized how fast two children could make a mess out of a seemingly clean room.

An owl pecked at the bedroom window and he recognized it as the Potter’s owl. The calm bird stuck his leg out for Draco and flew away as soon as the parchment was removed.

Draco,

I’ve secured a flat and will be coming to the house this weekend to pick up the remainder of my things, as well as several of the children’s belongings. Between moving into my new home on Saturday and working on Sunday, I ask that you take Lyra and Leo this weekend. I have already told the hospital I cannot work the following weekend, so that I can take the children that weekend. If you have any questions or concerns, please owl me.

H.G.

H.G.? H.G.? She hadn’t been H.G. in ten years! This was getting ridiculous. Coming to pick up her stuff? His arse she was taking her stuff! She was hurting him, their children, and the reputation of the Malfoy family with this little farce. She needed to come home.

Ten years they’d been together and his little quips about what she did with the children during the day, her body after the children had been born, and his general blasé attitude about her had all contributed to her decision to leave Draco. Their last argument proved the point that he saw her as not much more than the help. He’d never even apologized for saying something so hurtful to her.

Working at night, after taking care of Leo and taking and picking up Lyra from school during the day was tiring, but for the first time in several years, she felt valued as a smart, competent witch. She found that her years of childrearing helped her bedside manner and the patients seemed to respond to her motherly tendencies.

She’d been especially shocked when a Quidditch player who’d broken two ribs and his wrist had asked her to dinner after she’d healed him. The flare of her hips and the heaviness of her breasts had become something she tried to hide, but perhaps she had been looking at her body the wrong way. Clearly there were wizards out there who liked a woman with a few curves, although that particular wizard would have to find his curves with another witch. Hermione wasn’t quite ready to begin dating, although she supposed she would want to see someone at some point. But when she thought of herself with someone, he always had platinum hair and piercing grey eyes.

Hermione Malfoy,

No, you may not remove your things from our house. When you come to your senses and come back, you may have your things.

Draco

“Mummy looked pretty. Did you like her new clothes, Daddy?” Lyra asked.

Draco nodded with a fake smile. Instead of picking up her things on Saturday, as she had planned, Hermione decided to treat herself to a new wardrobe and new furniture for her flat after getting Draco’s note.

Well, that spectacularly backfired, he thought bitterly.

At the beginning of the third week of their separation, Draco was starting to grasp the enormity of Hermione’s work as a wife and mother. After feeding and bathing the children, Draco was done for the night, but there was still Lyra’s lunch to pack, toys to pick up, laundry to wash, dry, and put away and general house cleaning. Even with the use of magic, he still had enough work to keep him up much later than he liked.

And the children missed their mum, often crying as Draco was putting them to bed, asking to have Mummy put them to sleep. Hermione had always put the kids to bed and she did it so effortlessly that Draco had thought it had been a simple task. When he put the kids to bed, there were non-stop trips to the loo, requests for water, and books to be read. What had taken Hermione fifteen minutes took Draco a minimum of an hour, but usually close to two.

He’d also discovered how much work she’d done to help him. He’d run out of shorts, had burned himself ironing his shirt, had shrunk his slacks when he’d dried them on a setting much too hot, he had to buy his lunch every day since he didn’t even think about packing a lunch before work, and the kitchen cupboards were bare of the foods the he and the kids ate on a regular basis. He’d actually fed them a tin of peas with a side of mini-marshmallows for breakfast one morning when he found they had no milk or cereal. Lyra had dutifully eaten the green and white breakfast, but little Leo had loudly cried for his mother the entire duration of the meal.

Draco, although trying desperately to be cheerful for his children, wanted to cry as well.

Since beginning her whirlwind life away from Draco, Hermione finally had two consecutive days off. She planned on spending the weekend with her kids, enjoying a trip to the zoo or some time at a park. Both children, but Lyra mostly, had been struggling with the new circumstances in their family.

An unexpected owl from Narcissa arrived on Saturday morning, asking that she and Lucius be allowed to take the children for the day. It was implied that Hermione and Draco could spend the time to sort things out without the children taking their attention away from each other.

Hermione didn’t plan on spending the day with Draco, but she could use the time to work on the flat and get the kids’ room organized, so she sent back the owl, telling her mother-in-law that she would bring the children by before lunch.

When she got back to her flat, Draco sat on her couch, flipping through an issue of Witch Weekly. Damn those sneaky Malfoys!

He looked more worn out than he had in years, like he’d aged in the last few weeks. She, on the other hand, wore a trendy pair of jeans, a sweater that showed off her round bust and small waist, and brown heeled boots. Her long hair had been shaped to take advantage of her curls and she wore just enough makeup to enhance her naturally sweet features.

“What are you doing here, Draco?”

“We need to talk.”

She sat in the chair opposite him and waited. “Go ahead.”

It irked him that she was so calm and why was she so dolled up? Was it possible she was seeing someone?

“When are you going to end this façade of us separating and come home? I get the message: I hurt your feelings. You know I can be insensitive. It’s just part of my personality.”

She gritted her teeth. The way he excused his facetious behavior and disrespectful words was the problem. He still didn’t get it.

“I’m not coming back to the house. I suggest you hire a housekeeper if you need the assistance. Now, I have a lot of work to do in the next few hours so you should go.”

She walked to the kitchen, effectively dismissing him. He followed her, not understanding her anger. So what? He’d compared her to a house-elf; it was hardly the worst he’d called her in the twenty-five years they’d known each other.

“I’m not leaving. Why are you doing this to our family? It hardly seems right that you choose now to live out your fantasy life, with my job demanding so much of me and the kids needing your attention.”

“This is hardly my ‘fantasy’! But the life I want to lead doesn’t include a man who sees me as a servant instead of a valuable partner.”

“Have you left me for someone? Is it that bloke you worked with at the hospital?”

Taking a deep breath for patience, Hermione looked at the disheveled man before her with his wrinkled slacks and rumpled sweater, his hair which she usually cut for him every other week was a bit long about his ears, and the dark circles under his eyes from less sleep than the eight hours a night he was used to getting.

“I left you for someone: me! I love you and I’ll probably always love you, but I feel like a shell of my former self in our relationship. For the first time in years, I feel pretty and respected.”

He didn’t know what to say. Draco truly hadn’t known how unhappy his wife was in their marriage.

“Hermione, you know I love you. Please don’t do this to me,” he pleaded.

“You’re never going to understand why I left, are you? It’s still all about you.”

She turned her back to him, refusing to look at him until his footsteps indicated he’d left the room and the whoosh of the Floo told her he’d gone.

Draco contracted a housekeeper, who happened to be a Squib. His name was Calvin and he wore a lavender and pink striped apron as he cleaned and cooked. Calvin was good with the kids, too, so if Draco needed to work late, Calvin didn’t mind feeding them dinner and helping them get ready for the next day.

Slowly, Draco’s life began to take shape in a new way. He wasn’t happy, but he’d come to accept that Hermione wasn’t coming back and he wasn’t sure what would make her come home. Over the years, he’d forgotten how good she was at her job, but Blaise, who was a mind Healer at St. Mungo’s, told Pansy that the hospital wanted her on track to take over the Pediatrics Ward when the current supervising Healer retired. Instead of being happy for her, all he could think was that she was never coming home now.

Three months had passed since she had left and he knew the longer she was gone, the less likely it was that she would come back, but he didn’t know how to get her attention. She was polite when they saw each other, but generally she didn’t stay near him any longer than she had to. And the kids were adjusting to having their parents in separate houses.

Finally, the day he had been dreading came when a young man walked into his office at the Ministry and handed him an envelope.

“You’ve been served, Mr. Malfoy,” he said, bobbing his head in a farewell gesture.

Draco opened the envelope to find divorce papers from Hermione with her reason for the dissolution of their marriage: irreconcilable differences.

He talked to the solicitor Pansy knew and told her he had absolutely no plans to divorce Hermione.

“Well, you can stretch out the divorce proceedings, but she’ll still have access to your vault.”

“She can have the money, but she has plenty of her own funds.”

“If you have sexual relations with anyone else, the fidelity charm you two used at your bonding ceremony will begin the divorce proceedings for you.”

“I don’t want to sleep with anyone else,” he said with a scowl.

“Mr. Malfoy, I don’t know much about either of you, but perhaps I could speak with her attorney about mediation.”

“Do you think that process might help persuade her to stop the divorce proceedings?”

“In a few rare cases that has happened, but I wouldn’t advise you to get your hopes up.”

“Please talk to her solicitor. I’m willing to try anything.”

Two weeks later, Draco, Hermione, and a mediator Draco had hired sat in the dining room of the house the couple had shared. Calvin had provided a myriad of pastries, coffee, and tea. For the first time in a while, Hermione missed this house, where she had brought home her babies and had spent countless hours with her little family.

“Mrs. Malfoy, I’m Camille Hurst. I’ve been a mediator for several years and we’re here to discuss the divorce papers you had served to Mr. Malfoy. Is this correct?”

“Yes,” Hermione murmured. “Please call me Hermione.”

The calm older witch smiled at Hermione and put her at ease.

“Mr. Malfoy, why don’t you share with us why we’re here since you initiated the mediation?”

“Call me Draco, please.”

Camille nodded and urged him to continue.

“I don’t want to divorce Hermione.”

Hermione shook her head in exasperation.

“Hermione, why did you leave?” Camille asked.

“After our daughter Lyra was born and I stopped working as a Healer, I put all my efforts into raising our children, keeping the house, and helping Draco prioritize his career. It pleased me to take care of my family, but after a couple of years, I started to notice Draco was taking things for granted and barking orders at me when things weren’t done the way he liked them. He worked late most nights, so he didn’t see the children as much as I had hoped he would. After Leo was born he teased me about my weight and try as I might, my body changed with that last pregnancy. I’ve never been very concerned with my looks, but those comments only served to make me self-conscious. The last straw was when he compared what I did for our family to what a competent house elf could do. I knew then that our relationship had changed from one where I was wife and lover to something less than desirable.”

“Mr. Malfoy, would you like to respond?”

“She’s right. I did all of those things. I took everything Hermione did for me and for our family for granted.” He looked at Hermione, willing her to understand that he finally comprehended why she had to leave. “You were right to leave, love. It’s taken me four months, but I finally understand all the things you’ve done for our family. I couldn’t do what you did. And even though I have some help now, Calvin doesn’t know all the special things our family does. Our Sunday brunches, our late night dinners, but especially the way you made sure everyone in our house was loved and taken care of. I’m so sorry I didn’t do that for you. If you would give me another chance, I will do everything I can to prove to you that I can be the husband you need.”

“Camille, will you give us a minute?” Hermione asked.

The mediator smiled at the couple and left the room.

“I meant everything I said. You’re an amazing witch, Hermione, and I haven’t treated you like I should have for far too long. I’m immature and egotistical, but I love you with all my heart. What can I do to help convince you to come back to me?”

She let her chin rest on her open palm and looked at the wizard she’d spent a large portion of her life with.

“I don’t know, Draco. If I agree, things aren’t going to go back to the way they were.”

He stood and walked to her chair, pulling her hands to get her to stand. For the first time in too long, she let him near her. Draco put his hands around her waist and marveled at how perfectly she fit in his arms.

“I’m sorry I ever implied you were less than beautiful. You’re absolutely stunning.”

He leaned down and cautiously kissed her. She tasted like green tea and mint toothpaste, so familiar and arousing he tightened his grip on her body, pulling her into him. She moaned into his mouth and gripped the front of his shirt. It had been too damn long since Draco had touched her with such passion. His tongue breached her lips and began to stroke her mouth. After a minute, Hermione broke the kiss, remembering the other two people just a few rooms away.

“If I come back, I plan on staying at St. Mungo’s. And I want to keep Calvin.”

Draco chuckled and kissed the top of her head.   “Okay. What else?”

“You’re going to have to do more with the kids. Help with homework, baths, and bedtime.”

“You’ll be happy to know that I’m actually quite adept at helping the kids now, although Lyra prefers Calvin make her school lunch and prepare breakfast.”

“Right. I heard about the peas and marshmallow incident.”

“Exactly,” he said with a squeeze to her waist. “This time around, I’m going to work to make our marriage better.”

Hermione hadn’t left Draco to prove a point to him, but it seemed that had been the result of their separation.

“Do you think you could ask Camille and Calvin to leave?”

Draco looked at Hermione’s flushed cheeks and knew exactly why she wanted the mediator and housekeeper to go. Nothing in the world would make him happier than to have his wife in his arms, preferably naked, for a few precious hours.

One Year Later

“Lyra, Lyra, Bo-Byra!” Calvin called up the stairs. “It’s time to leave for school, dah-ling!”

Draco poured himself a mug of coffee to go. Calvin had the kids’ bags and lunches ready.

“Daddy, I make slime at preschool!” Leo said, putting on his little knapsack.

“Bring some home for me, okay?” Draco said, ruffling his son’s blond hair. “Are you two ready?”

“I’m ready,” Lyra said, high-fiving Calvin for sneaking her a blueberry scone.

“Wait, I need kisses!” Hermione said, hurrying down the stairs.

When Hermione had finally taken over the Pediatrics Ward, her hours changed to a mix of nights and days, but she didn’t have to work weekends. Weekends were for family.

Lyra and Leo gave their mum hugs and she gave them kisses all over their cheeks. She straightened and smiled at Draco.

“I know you’re working late, but we’re still on for date night?”

He kissed his lovely wife and nuzzled her ear. “I’ll pick up dinner at Chez Phillipe if you choose the wine.”

“You spoil me,” Hermione said, pressing one last kiss to his cheek. “Don’t forget to give Lyra’s teacher our supply donation.”

“I didn’t, but thank you for reminding me. Have a good day at work.”

“You, too. Bye my loves!” she said, waving at Draco and the kids as they made their way to their destinations.

Things in the Malfoy family weren’t perfect, but they were good. So good, so full of laughter, so full of everything that made family life a joy. Hermione sighed happily as she went up the stairs to get ready for her day.
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Tales of The Dragon and The Bookworm