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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Title: Eight Phases

Summary: The stages of Draco and Hermione’s relationship as described by the phases of the moon. A Marriage Law fic.

Words: ~6,300

A.N. Thank you for reading and for reviewing! Sorry for the wait, but I have several one-shots going at once, and I’m writing as my whims dictate, which is obviously not very efficient. Nonetheless, I finally finished one! Yay!

@ Kyonomiko: Thank you for your kind review!

@ starr: I think many women can feel taken for granted by their families, and it’s very damaging to their self-esteem. And though Hermione loved Draco, she didn’t feel happy anymore. Thank goodness he finally figured it out, the git! Thank you for the review!

@ General Crow: Before I had my first child, I told a coworker with two kids that when I had maternity leave, I’d be able to do all these projects I’d been putting off. She laughed in my face! I assumed she was just disorganized and unmotivated to do things at home, but after my daughter was born, I could barely keep my head above water. Since Draco saw Hermione doing things with ease, he assumed her work was simple, but in fact, she was just good at it. I think we all make these mistakes, but his assumptions ended up almost costing him his marriage. Go, Aunt Tami! Sometimes medicine actually gets it right, and it sounds like this operation was a success for her. I hope it gives her a new lease on life. :) Take care and thank you for your review.

@ Severus1snape: Voyeur Draco was a bit creepy (thank goodness Hermione didn’t think so!), but I felt like he behaved like a typical horny, undersexed young man who’s happy to see a glimpse of boob at any cost, lol! And to see something from someone considered taboo would have been the ultimate peepshow. As for Daddy Malfoy, Lucius was *so* underhanded, he probably made old Salazar proud! Thank you for the reviews!

@ RavieSnake: I think the last story definitely hits close to home for many of us, unfortunately. Draco wasn’t a bad guy, but he was flippant and dismissive of Hermione’s role in their family. Draco as a semi-werewolf was so fun to write, with his instincts so near the surface and his disgust over his scars. And his big, hot muscles, haha! Thank you for reading and reviewing!

New Moon: Set Intentions

The war was over and people were trying to start anew. He was trying to start anew.

Draco worked at Flourish and Blotts as a clerk, taking people’s money, helping patrons find books, and stocking shelves when customers were in short supply. When he’d first begun working there, he had kept his eyes down and his voice muffled, which oddly made her curious about him. The brash, angry young man had become more introspective and solemn. Even his clothes had changed from fine cashmeres to utilitarian wools and cottons. He wore his hair short and tousled, as if he ran a hand through it and called it good.

Eighteen months after the war ended, the Ministry came to the conclusion that unless something drastic was done, wizarding Britain was not going to repopulate enough to survive. The populace would be reduced to living in secret around Muggles, magical society too weak to sustain itself. The law specified that Muggle-borns had first bid on a pure-blood of their choice.

Hermione had worried that the law would allow pure-bloods to choose a Muggle-born, but apparently the Ministry understood most Muggle-borns were all too close to leaving the wizarding world after the atrocities they had been subjected to. It was a last ditch effort for the Ministry to introduce a new gene pool into the wizarding population, one that procreated with much more success than the staid magical bloodlines of old.

Crescent: Deepen Resolve

“Malfoy,” she said, placing her book on the counter.

“Granger. That’ll be three Galleons,” he said, wrapping her text in parchment paper.

She handed him the money, her courage sticking to the top of her mouth, preventing her from asking him her question.

“Um, have you had a bid yet? For marriage?” she finally choked out as he held her book out for her.

He eyed her for a moment before shaking his head. Was he looking at her with confusion? Or maybe something better?

“You bid for Weasley?”

She started at his question. “Um, no. He accepted a bid from Ava Swan, from Hufflepuff. She just graduated.”

Now it was Draco’s turn to look surprised, but he merely nodded in understanding. After an awkward few seconds, she murmured something about getting back to work, her package left on the counter in her haste to leave.

First Quarter: Take Action Steps

“For whom are you petitioning, Miss Granger?” the portly secretary asked, her quill hovering about the form.

“Draco Malfoy,” she said quietly, leaning towards the witch.

The grey-haired woman frowned. “Come again? Did you say the Malfoy boy?”

“That’s right. We went to Hogwarts together.”

Hermione wondered why she offered the nosy bint that extra bit of information.

The secretary lowered her voice and beckoned Hermione closer. “They lost all their money, Miss Granger. I hear the boy works in Diagon Alley. If you like, I could give you the list to review again. I’ve even starred the young wizards with the most promise.”

Gods, how presumptuous!

“No, but thank you. When will he get my petition?”

The witch shook her head, but wrote down Draco’s information. “It will go out today. Are you sure?”

Hermione smiled at the secretary, to reassure the concerned woman and herself.

“Yes, please send it out.”

“Alright, dear. Good luck.”

Gibbous: Refine and Improve

A Ministry owl had delivered a note the previous night letting her know her petition had been delivered to one Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy and reminded her he had seventy-two hours to accept or reject her proposal.

Her stomach was in knots the next day as she headed to work. Perhaps she should have asked him if he would even entertain her proposal, but her more reckless side wanted him to know how serious she was about her offer. Her friends knew of her plan and while they thought it was strange, they didn’t try to dissuade her.

When a knock sounded at her office door and the wizard in question came in with her forgotten purchase, Hermione felt at once elated and panicky.

“You forgot your book the other day,” he said, passing her the heavy tome.

“Thank you.”

He was standing in front of her desk, looking around her small office. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight so we can discuss the proposal?”

In her mind, she imagined herself doing all the wooing, trying to garner his affection. It was a relief he was willing to even entertain the idea of her bid for him.

“That would be good. We can meet at my flat, if you like.”

He actually smiled at her and shook his head. “There’s an excellent Italian restaurant near my cottage. You’ll like it. I’ll come by your office around six?”

“Yes, okay,” she said, a smile finding its way onto her face.

A quick Floo call to Ginny had the redheaded witch rushing to the Ministry with cosmetics and a few clothing options. Hermione was a lovely, confident witch, but Ginny knew just how to improve on Hermione’s looks with a bit of color and an outfit that was more awe-inspiring than the professional clothing she wore to work.

“Do you think he’ll agree?” Gin asked as she brushed on a layer of mascara.

“Yeah, I do. I think we could have been friends if he hadn’t been such an arse at school.”

“Hmm,” the younger witch hummed as she examined her work. “Well, he won’t know what hit him tonight. Are you going to make him show you the goods?”

“Merlin’s pants, Ginevra!”

“Well? What if you find out he has a tiny prick and you’re bonded and married, not another cock in sight?”

“Good Lord,” Hermione moaned. “I’m sure it’s not tiny, if the gossip had any truth to it.”

“Are you nervous? I mean, you’re still a virgin. What if he’s rough or, oh Godric, he’s not gay, is he?”

“Gin, stop! Yes, I’m a virgin, but I’m not as inexperienced as you seem to think. And I don’t think he’s gay. If he is, I’ll withdraw my petition. I want the possibility of love to develop between us.”

“Alright. I just had to make my concerns known. Now, I need to get out of here before he shows up. Please, please owl me and tell me how it went.” She lightly bussed Hermione’s cheek. “He might just be the one for you,” she mused.

The rest of the afternoon was spent doing a very modest amount of work. Normally, Hermione would have chided herself for her inattention, but if Draco accepted her bid, her life was going to change. She gave up trying to work an hour before Draco was to arrive and began to make a list of some things they should discuss.

1. Do you still believe in blood purity? If not, what changed your mind?

2. Do you have career goals beyond working at F&B? If so, what are they?
3. Are you currently involved in a relationship? If you are and you could possibly be paired with the witch, would you want me to withdraw my petition?
4. The marriage law requires us to have two children, but would you be amenable to more?
5. Would you be open to residing in a Muggle neighborhood?
6. Tell me about your family. Are you still in contact with them?
7. Do you think this could possibly work between us?

She sighed, her nerves starting to fray as her department cleared out. She opened her door slightly, so she could see Draco as he approached. Finally at 5:58, she saw him. He was dressed in a pair of slacks with a sweater over a collared shirt. For some reason, he reminded her of a university student and that helped her to feel some kinship to him.

“Hello. Are you ready?”

She attempted a smile, which she imagined looked like a grimace. “Yes, let me get my bag.”

He allowed her to collect her things and held out his arm to her as she came around the desk. The gesture was so chivalrous she began to feel her eyes prick with tears. Her dad had done the same with her mum, and then with Hermione when she got a bit older, and she had always interpreted it as a gentleman’s action. It was a little thing, but it made her feel protected and cared for.

“Where do you live?” she finally asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Have you heard of the village of Blockley?”

“Um, I haven’t.”

“It’s very small, in Gloucestershire.”

“Why there? Why not London?”

“Is that where you live?”

“Yes, I have a flat in London. My gran owns the building,” she said sheepishly. Draco knew Hermione was conscientious of what she perceived as an unfair advantage.

“Oh, that’s good. London is expensive. My father has a Squib half-brother and he lives in Blockley. He offered me his guest cottage after Lucius and Narcissa were banished from England.”

“Does he know about, um, everything?”

Draco shook his head and steered her towards the Apparition point. “No, not everything. But my father asked him to assist me, and he obliged. Uncle Seneca and Aunt Beatrice are quite kind,” he said softly.

She was relieved to know Draco had been shown some mercy after his parents had been told to leave the country.

“We’ll Apparate to a discreet area and walk to the restaurant from there. Are you alright with Side-Along?”

“It’s not my favorite, but I can handle it.”

After an uncomfortable moment, they landed in a private, grassy area at the bottom of a hill. Hermione stumbled, causing Draco to stabilize her with both hands.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you, Malfoy.”

They began to walk into the town center, a picturesque, quaint place with old brick buildings and green as far as the eye could see. After about ten minutes, they arrived at Il Piato, the Italian restaurant Draco had told her about. The aroma of garlic, basil, tomato, and cheese wafted from the door of the eatery. A waitress sat them at an intimate table for two in a dim corner.

“Can you bring us a bottle of your house red?” Draco asked.

The waitress nodded and left.

“This is nerve-racking, isn’t it?” Hermione asked, her fingers arranging and rearranging the napkin and silverware.

“Yeah, but it’s a relief, too. If I hadn’t been contacted or if I rejected my first two options, the Ministry would place me with whom they thought my best option would be. For all I know, I’d be put with…I don’t know…Professor Trelawney.”

“That would be stressful. I can’t disagree.”

The waitress put down two wine glasses and poured them both a healthy dose of the robust red.

“May I suggest the house special?” the server asked. Neither Draco or Hermione much cared what they ate, so both ordered the special and nibbled on a bread basket the server had put on the table.

“I had some, um, questions for you.” Hermione began to pull a sheet of parchment out of her bag.

“Sure. That’s why we’re meeting.” Draco was amused. Hermione was ever the scholar.

She almost began to ask him each question, but thought it might be better to hand him the list and let him answer. He read it carefully, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Blood purity is utter bollocks. The most powerful wizards in the world have been half-bloods. You’re powerful and your parents are Muggles,” he said, covering his eyes for a moment before looking back at her. “You have to know how sorry I am for what you suffered. I saw your blood and it was the same as mine.”

“I know, Draco. I could see you didn’t want to be in your house, either.”

He nodded and looked down at her list, trying to pull himself out of his morose guilt. He hoped he hadn’t put Hermione off of him.

“Do you want me to keep answering your questions?”

“Please. We have to talk if we want to know if this might work.”

“I like my job at Flourish and Blotts, but I do want to do something more. Can I confess something to you?”

“Yeah, of course,” she murmured.

“I started taking a correspondence course in Charms Mastery three months ago. The classes are expensive, but I can afford to take one per semester. I’ll be finished with the program in four years.”

This was exactly the type of information Hermione had hoped to learn about Malfoy. He was someone who wanted to better himself through study and was willing to do it on his own Galleon and in his spare time.

“I’m impressed and a bit envious. I should be doing to same thing with my free time.”

“Do you not enjoy your job?” he wondered.

“Yes, I like it, but I love going to school and deepening my knowledge. After I finished my N.E.W.T.s, I was ready to work for a bit and make some money.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed, looking down at her list again. “I’m not involved with anyone currently. Truthfully, I’ve never been in a serious relationship before.”

“Oh, that’s good. I’d hate to inadvertently encroach on a relationship.”

“You weren’t involved with anyone?”

Hermione chuckled. “No. Ron and I tried for a couple of months after the war ended, but we weren’t a good fit that way. We’re much better as friends. I’ve been on a few dates here and there, but since the Marriage Law came about, it seems everyone is ultra-cautious about showing interest in someone, lest it be misconstrued as a marriage proposal.”

Draco laughed. “Yeah, I can see that. As for your next question, I suppose more than two children would be something I might consider. Did you have a number in mind?”

“No, not really, I just wanted to keep the option available.”

The waitress brought out two steaming plates of linguine in clam sauce and they ate a few bites before Draco continued to answer her questions.

“Well, as you can see, I’m more comfortable around Muggles now, but I think I would ultimately prefer to live in a wizarding area. I guess magic is such a huge part of my life that I don’t like the idea of hiding it.”

“That seems fair,” she conceded.

“As for my parents, their banishment is a true one. They aren’t allowed to have contact with anyone in Britain, including me.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Yes and no. Both of them willingly followed the Dark Lord and they used me to get back in his good graces. I haven’t quite forgiven them for that. But the way my mother sobbed when she was given her sentence…the way she sobbed my name…I didn’t doubt her love for me. My father was much more stoic about the sentence. It was a kinder sentence than he deserved.”

Hermione sipped her wine, appreciating Draco’s candidness. He was smart and handsome, yes, but there was a spark with him, an awareness in her being when he was near. She wanted that electricity with her future husband. Nothing would be worse than to be married to a man who didn’t inspire feelings in her. The Ministry might be pushing people together, but that didn’t mean she had to live a life of emotional indifference.

They finished their food and Draco took the bill, leaving the appropriate sum on the table for the waitress. Walking along the darkened street, Hermione looked at her surroundings. After living in the city, she’d forgotten how quiet it could be away from the automobiles and throngs of people.

“Would you like to come to my cottage for coffee or tea so we can discuss your last question?” he asked, taking her arm once again.

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

Draco guided her to a darkened area off the main road and Apparated them to the front of a tiny house. It was made of rock and had huge trees surrounding it, making it appear as if it was from a fairytale. He gave her a moment to study the property before making his way to the door.

“It’s beautiful,” she exclaimed, admiring the wood floors and whitewashed walls.

“It’s cozy. Perfect for one person. Is tea okay?”

Hermione put her coat and purse on a chair and sat on the couch.

“Yes, thanks.”

His kitchen was in proportion to the miniscule space, which must have been a potting shed in its previous life. A small-scale stove and oven, sink, icebox, and butcher-block counter top were set up along one wall. His bed was tucked into a corner of the room. A door to what she assumed was the loo was at the back of the little studio cottage. The neutral colors, books, and quiet were soothing. He brought over two mugs of steaming tea, putting them on the coffee table and sitting beside her. He smelled fresh, like laundry detergent. Draco took a sip of tea.

“Why did you choose me?”

She looked into her tea for a moment before answering. “I was talking to Andromeda Tonks…um, do you know her?”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“She said the best marriages aren’t the ones that are between two people who agree all the time, but between the people who can find common ground. With her and Ted, there was a bit of friction there that challenged her. I searched my mind for someone I had friction with and you obviously fit the bill,” she said with a grin. “So, I wondered if maybe there were some things on which we could compromise, which is why I had that list of questions.”

Her reason was so much better than Draco could have imagined. He was worried she would say it was to show the world Muggle-borns and pure-bloods could get along. He was done doing things for the “greater good”. It was time he did something for his own good, not what other people thought he should do.

“I was worried you wanted me for my good looks,” he joked.

She looked uncomfortable. “I know I’m not as beautiful as the witches you were with before, so the attraction bit makes me worry.”

“I am attracted to you, actually. Since third year, if we’re baring our souls here. So you shouldn’t worry about that part.”

She ducked her head, but he could tell she was smiling.

“Can I get you more tea?”

She gave him a warm smile and shook her head, her chestnut curls bouncing.

“You should take the seventy-two hours to decide if you’d like to accept the marriage contract. The Ministry will let me know what you decide. And if you decide to decline…I had a nice time with you tonight.”

She stood and collected her things. He walked her to the door.

“Goodnight, Hermione.”

And surprising even himself, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

Full Moon: Culminate; Let Realizations Come to You

When Draco woke the next morning, he recognized for the first time in a long time that he had slept without waking several times during the night. It wasn’t that he was devoid of human contact, since he regularly visited with his uncle and aunt, the other employees at Flourish and Blotts, and remained friends with a few people from school. However, this possible relationship with Hermione was new and he was, dare he admit it, excited. Thrilled, even.

He considered writing Hermione and telling her he would accept her marriage contract, but he wanted to give himself the time to think, to make sure he was making the decision that was best for him.

It was his day off from the bookstore, so he made his way to his uncle’s garage, where the older gentleman was tinkering with the farm’s generator. Uncle Seneca was Lucius’ half-brother from an affair his grandfather Abraxas had with a young witch who had worked for him. Seneca had taken his mother’s name, but Abraxas for all his philandering and faults, have given Seneca funds for private tutelage and when it was determined Seneca was a Squib, Abraxas and Seneca’s mother worked together to help their son find a place in the Muggle world. Seneca was fifteen years older than Lucius, but besides the age gap, where Lucius was harsh, Seneca was reasonable, where Lucius was prideful, Seneca was humble. Despite their differences and Lucius’ feelings on blood purity, he had always spoken fondly of his older brother and Seneca seemed to reciprocate the sentiment.

“Draco,” Uncle Seneca said, wiping his hands on a flannel. “Beatrice made a fantastic apple tart last night. Might I interest you in a piece?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Draco followed his uncle to the main house, a large, rambling home fit for a family, although the couple never did have children. The inside was spare, but comfortable. The spacious kitchen was bright and cheerful with a basket of vegetables on the counter and shelves of cookbooks on the walls.

“You’re looking pensive,” Seneca observed. “Want to tell me about it?”

Seneca knew his nephew had suffered in the last war, but he never pressured Draco to tell him more than he was willing to offer. The longer the boy lived on the property, the more Seneca liked him. Lucius had suggested his son would need a lot of assistance, but Seneca found his nephew to be fairly self-sufficient once he understood how something worked. He wasn’t a freeloader, either, even though Seneca and Beatrice had offered him the little cottage for free. Every month, he slipped an envelope with a couple hundred pounds under the door of the main house.

“After the war, the Ministry ran the numbers and figured out that if people between eighteen and sixty didn’t start to procreate at a faster pace, magical society would have too few wizards to function properly. So, to speed up the process, the Ministry enacted a Marriage Law and I received an offer yesterday.”

Seneca felt anger at the Ministry for doing something so invasive to its people. These people had just survived a war, only to be told to marry someone, not necessarily of their choosing, and have children with them. But, Seneca wasn’t of that world and he swallowed his indignation on Draco’s behalf, attempting to understand the boy’s feelings on the matter. He served his nephew a slice of tart and put it before him.

“How did you feel about the offer?”

“A little emasculated,” he said with a wry chuckle. “The witch, she’s Muggle-born, and I wasn’t nice to her when we were in school.”

“Do you think she’s trying to retaliate in some way?” Seneca wondered.

“No, not at all. Hermione has a lot of integrity and she thinks we would challenge each other in a good way.”

“You respect her?”

“Yes, very much. I admire her and for some odd reason, I think she likes how I’ve handled everything that’s happened after the war ended.”

“You’re a good man, Draco. You’ll make something of yourself, just give it time.”

Seneca was always so kindhearted to him, it made his chest contract to hear the generous words from his uncle. He wasn’t used to people who acknowledged his efforts, no matter the outcome.

“I took her out for dinner last night so we could discuss the marriage offer and we had an excellent conversation. Do you think it’s strange that I feel like she might be a match for me?”

“Do you know how Bea and I met?” Seneca asked.

Draco shook his head and took another bite of the apple tart, which had just a bit of caramel to cut the sourness of the apples. It was delicious.

“After I failed to present any magic, my mother and your grandfather began looking for a school for me in the Muggle world. Mother was a pure-blood, too, and they really knew very little about Muggles, but they found a boarding school for me in Switzerland. After I got accustomed to Muggle subjects, I found I was quite good at maths. When I finished secondary school, I went to university and in my very first class, a young woman sat next to me. We looked at each other and in that moment, I just knew in my gut I would marry her. I didn’t even know her name,” he said with a laugh. “I guess what I’m trying to say is: if your instincts tell you that you might find love with this witch, accept the offer.”

Draco was listening with rapt attention, nodding at his uncle’s words. “You’re right. This situation is just so bloody mad, I don’t even know if I should get her a ring. Do you think we should even bother with a real wedding?”

“Yes to both. Actually, I have my grandmother’s ring. If Bea and I had children, we would have passed it down to our son, but I’d be honored if you’d considered it for your young lady.”

Draco was touched and a tad relieved at the suggestion. “Thank you, Uncle. For everything.”

Seneca clapped Draco on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go dig up that ring.”

Disseminating: Express New Found Truths

After finding the ring with his uncle, a two-carat diamond in a beautiful antique platinum setting, Draco began to figure out a special way to accept the offer. He contemplated going to her office, but that just seemed too common. He could invite her out to dinner again, but his funds were low as it was. He finally decided to go to her flat with a bottle of champagne, flowers, and the ring. Merlin, he could never show enough gratitude for Seneca’s generosity.

He used the Ministry documentation, which had her address, and made his way into London after she was done with work. Her building was small, maybe eight units, but well-kept and charming. He walked up the stairs to her flat, hoping she would be there. It was taking all his emotional courage to make this trip and he didn’t know if he would be able to do this meeting the way he wanted to if she wasn’t home and he had to make other plans.

When he got to her door and knocked, he was relieved to hear her call out just a minute. She opened the door and beckoned him in, smiling when he handed her a bouquet of big, white gardenias.

“I know you made the bid for me, but can we do this the regular way?”

“Yes, please,” she said, her words catching in her throat. Hermione had really been trying to keep it together, but she was both worried about Draco rejecting or accepting her.

They sat on her little sofa and she noticed he seemed nervous, too, but he took her hands in his. His fingers were long, his nails short, but smooth. The contact gave her a small jolt of excitement. Gods, she hoped they’d have good chemistry.

“Hermione, I’ve always admired your intelligence, your gumption, and the loyalty and love you offer to those you hold dear. One day I hope to be a part of that special group. I would very much like you to be my wife, if you’ll have me.”

He looked into her dark eyes and she squeezed his hands.

“Yes, I want you,” she said with a blush. For she did find him incredibly handsome, but he was smart and knew how to survive life’s challenges. “I want to marry you.”

And though the exchange was awkward, something shifted in both Draco and Hermione. They were going to belong to each other for the rest of their days, since magical people really meant the ‘til death do us part of the wedding vows. He took the ring out of his pocket and presented it to her. She gasped and her eyes filled with tears. He slipped the ring on her finger, noticing the way the diamond seemed to shine on her hand.

“Beautiful,” he said, wiping a stray tear off her cheek. She leaned into him, her forehead resting on his shoulder and he took the opportunity to embrace her. He felt her body relax into his and buried his face in her curls, inhaling the scent of her floral shampoo.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He pushed her back slightly so they could face each other. “No, thank you. The more I thought about what you said the other night at dinner, the more I think this marriage could work. I want it to work.”

In answer, her lips found his. His lips were full and firm and his breath tasted like cinnamon. He angled his head slightly and coaxed her lips to open for him. When his tongue met hers, she could not help but return his stroking. The feeling was incomparable. A kiss had never felt so consuming and she wrapped her arms around his neck. After a minute, they broke apart, breathing slightly shaky from a combination of nerves and arousal. Draco grinned at Hermione, an atmosphere of lightness making itself at home in his heart. He could do this, and he would do it right.

Last Quarter: Seed Your Next Cycle

They were married a month after Draco accepted Hermione’s petition. Hermione’s parents had been understandably upset to learn their daughter was being forced to marry at so young an age, but it was a small consolation that she had been able to choose the wizard she wanted to marry. And they liked Draco, even though they had heard of the boy from Hermione during her summers home from Hogwarts.

Hermione and her mum worked for a month straight to plan a real wedding and in that time, the Grangers got to know Draco, Seneca, and Beatrice. Friends and family gathered at the wedding and though it was uncomfortable for some due to residual anger from the war or confusion as to why the two were marrying so quickly, everyone was on good behavior. The guests gave their blessings to the couple, who seemed endearingly smitten with each other.

After a short honeymoon to Lake Windmere, thanks to Seneca and Beatrice, they settled in Draco’s little cottage, which they magically enlarged to make more comfortable for themselves. They added a real bedroom, a tub to the loo, and extended the living area to include a dining nook and extra seating. Of course, they added bookshelves, since both Draco and Hermione had books on seemingly every subject.

Some days it still felt like they’d been thrown together, when Draco needed space and Hermione wanted to talk, or when she had her monthly and was embarrassed with him knowing it. Overall, they’d both known harder circumstances and they gave each other time to adjust to the relationship.

One benefit for both was the income they garnered from the marriage, thanks to the Ministry. The extra Galleons were enough for Draco to take an extra class each term and would also help them slowly save for a bigger place. They would need the space in the next few years, as the Marriage Law specified that they have two children within a six-year period.

Hermione lay in bed one frosty spring morning six months into their marriage. She was spooned against Draco’s body, his arm held possessively around her waist. His body was warm and he always smelled so good to her. The law had given them a year to consummate their union, which Hermione thought was quite reasonable. In the old days, magical marriages had to be consummated within thirty-six hours of the bonding. She and Draco had slept together six weeks after the ceremony, but both could admit that what led up to sex had been a sensual exploration of each other’s bodies.

Rubbing her legs together to ease the soreness in her core, Hermione sighed in satisfaction at the memory of the previous night. She’d had a God-awful day at work, with non-stop paperwork and coworkers who seemed to think nothing of spending the day gossiping rather than working. Draco had made her dinner after his shift and had listened to her frustrations over her job, which were considerable. She’d never had someone who she could really converse with, besides her parents, and that excluded most in-depth discussions where magic was involved. They talked about everything under the sun and both admitted they would have had a much better school experience if they’d had each other as friends.

He kissed her neck and pulled her into his body, his erection pressing against her bum.

“I love you,” he said without preamble. “You don’t have to say anything back, but I wanted you to know.”

She turned to face him, a joyous smile on her face. “I love you, too, Draco.”

He pulled her into his body, hugging her tightly. After their first dinner at the little Italian bistro, Draco had known Hermione would be a witch he could love. He just never expected it to happen so quickly.

Balsamic: Return to Follow Stillness

Ten Years Later

“Oh, Gin, she’s perfect,” Hermione murmured as she held the Potter’s newest addition.

Ginny laid back amongst the pillows of her large bed in the bedroom of her home. Grimmauld Place was practically unrecognizable now, with its soothing colors and comfortable, stylish furniture.

“Did you leave your little ones with Beatrice?” Ginny asked.

The baby began to nuzzle Hermione’s breast and she handed her back to Ginny.

“Bea has Thomas and little Seneca, but Draco’s downstairs with Anna and Claire. The girls are dying to see Lily.”

“They can come up when I’m done nursing. Do you two think you want any more children?”

Hermione laughed and looked at the photos on the bedroom wall. “Maybe?”

“Overachievers,” Ginny teased.

“Our family is so different than either of the families we grew up in, and some days it’s so hard to have four kids, but usually it’s rather sweet and fun.”

Ginny dislodged the sleeping baby from her bosom and put her in the bedside bassinet.

“When you go down to get the girls, will you bring me a piece of that chocolate cake Beatrice sent over?”

Hermione laughed. “Of course. Take advantage of the extra calories you’re burning feeding this little one.”

Later that evening, after the children were tucked into their beds, Draco found his wife looking at pictures of their wedding, their honeymoon, Draco in his Unspeakable robes after he received his Master in Charms, the rambling fixer-upper they’d purchased a few months before Anna, their oldest child, was born, and finally pictures of the babies, with Draco and Hermione looking star-struck as they gazed at their newest family member. Little Seneca was just over a year, so his birth pictures included the other Malfoy children, as well.

“Did the Potter’s baby make you feel broody?” Draco asked, sitting next to Hermione on their bed. He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

“You know me so well, but we have our hands full as it is.”

“When has that ever stopped us, love? We had our hands full after Anna was born, with a new house, an infant, and your promotion to assistant director of your department. Things have worked out for us.”

“You’re right. I just feel that I’ve been blessed so many times over the years, with you and our children, and I don’t want to jinx it. I worry about what could go wrong.”

“There’s no cap on happiness. You taught me that. I didn’t grow up in a happy household and I used to think the best I would get out of life was a decent career, perhaps make back some of the lost Malfoy fortune, and marry someone who I didn’t find annoying. What we have now can be a bit chaotic…”--Hermione laughed at this—“…but it’s wonderful, too. The Marriage Law probably made some people miserable, but it was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

“It was for me, too. I can’t imagine my life with anyone else.”

From Hermione’s pile of photos, he took a picture of the six of them in front of the Christmas tree the previous year. Hermione loved to color coordinate their holiday photos, with the Malfoy females wearing red and the Malfoy males wearing green.

“When you look at this picture, can you imagine another sprog in red or green?” he asked mischievously. Draco already knew how she would answer, but he wanted to hear it from her.

She looked at the picture and could absolutely imagine a little girl, with curly hair like her, but big grey eyes like Draco. Eventually she conceded that she could imagine another baby in the picture, although she kept the part about another girl to herself. The gender of the baby didn’t matter, so much as their health.

“I want another baby,” Draco said, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s temple. “But I never wanted you to feel pressured.”

“We’re mad, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, and I love it.”

“I love it, too,” Hermione beamed and kissed her husband.

Neither of them would say they had ever expected to be married to each other, but they meshed well. There was something to following your instincts into unknown territory; trusting yourself to do what was right for you. It was usually terrifying at first, but living a life that made you feel worthy was always better than doing what others thought was best. And though their beginning as a couple had been unorthodox, it turned out life was better when you embraced the unexpected.

End Notes: Section titles courtesy of astrodharma.org: Meaning of the Moon’s Eight Phases.
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Tales of The Dragon and The Bookworm