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Chapter Text

It started in a cloudy night. 
No, a fucking stormy night, but for some reason he couldn't reckon, Draco remembered more the clouds gathering over the astronomy tower, seen from the inner courtyard in the late afternoon, than the sound of the storm that followed afterwards. 

It was an September evening. A Saturday, in the third week after he came back to school to that damned eighth year, and Draco didn't feel in the mood to attend the party currently taking place in the dungeons.  

A party that had been Daphne's idea, to 'lighten the mood'.  
He scoffed at the idea. As if any party would be able to quell the hatred that all the rest of the castle seemed to have against them. 

At least the younger ones were being spared. In the effort to rebuild, both materially and morally, after the damage the war had done, unity between the houses seemed to be the rule this year.  
And Draco indeed saw several groups of first and even second years walking together, not caring for houses, under smiling and complacent looks from the older students.    

But no complacency was reserved for the senior slytherins. He supposed that was fair enough, but it sucked anyway. 

When the sound of the storm became so loud that Draco could not even hear his own footsteps inside the castle, he decided to go to the requirement room. 

He didn't know what led him there. As far as he knew, the room was still broken, unable to fully recover after the cursed fire.  
But he had used the room so much in sixth year that it felt like home. And it was kind of appropriate call the place by this tittle, after practically living there in 1996. 
And then, he lost one of his best friends there.... 

Well, it wouldn't hurt to see how the room looked.  
According to what Flitwick had explained to a group of anxious Ravenclaws, the room seemed to be repairing itself: there were times when it wouldn't open, times when it opened and came up with nothing but ruins, and times when opening the door led to a light source so bright that it caused temporary blindness.  

When Draco set foot in the corridor of the seventh floor, he didn't know that his life would change that night.   

He just walked past, three times, the door location, simply focusing on the idea of open the requirement room, open the requirement room, open the requirement room... until a door appeared. 

A red door, filled with golden glowing runes.  
Draco hesitated, but when he turned the knob the door opened easily, without resistance - and without a blinding light either. 

He saw himself in the midst of a bizarre mix of ruins, ash, and a magical forest. The forest began a few steps from the doorway, and had a... Celtic air about it?  
It didn't look dense or deep, and Draco followed an open, large trail between two trees, launching a trecking charm from the starting point to not get lost.

The forest was magically lit by golden points of light, which floated around the main trail.  
As Draco advanced, the lights grew brighter until he came to a clearing with a large fire, surrounded by tall stones arranged in a circle, and in the corner was a... camp tent?  
 
As soon as he set foot in the clearing, a shrill sound rang out and moments later a flustered and possessed Hermione Granger came out of the tent, pointing a finger at him. 

Draco resisted the temptation to pinch his arm to see if he was awake, because the whole thing was too bizarre to be real. 

"What. The. Hellllllll. Are. Here?" 

The girl walked towards him. She was actually staggering more than walking, her face swollen and red, full of tears. 
Completely drunk. 

Before he could answer she bumped into one of the big stones - she was really drunk, the rocks were huge, she couldn't have missed them - and hugged it to keep her balance. 

Granger leaned her face against the stone, opened one eye and asked him "The rain?"  

He looked at her, still unsure how to react, dumbfounded.  

"The fucking rain, Malfoy. Still?"
She seemed too nauseated to form complete sentences. 

He just nodded, still uncertain. 

"Fuck!” She groaned. 

"Granger, what the hell are you doing here? You the one who conjured all this?" He asked, cautious. 

She nodded, eyes closed, expression sad. "The rain. I fucking hate it. The forest was my home, that barrack is my only home now". 

And she lowered herself, hugging the stone, and started to cry.  

He didn't know what to do. Was Granger afraid of the storm? And what the hell was she doing here alone then? Where were her friends? Her ridiculous boyfriend? 
And wasn't today her birthday? He was sure the Gryffindor’s  table had made a fuss about it this morning.

While he just stood there, trying to make sense of the situation, Granger seemed to have completely forgotten his presence.  
Apparently finding that face of the stone uncomfortable, the witch went around it, on her knees, until she was inside the circle, and leaned her back on the inner, flat face of the thing.
There she closed her eyes and continued to cry. 

Draco knew he should leave.  
He knew she didn't like him, didn't want him there, but she was so... pathetically lost, that he decided to help. 
So, he stepped into the circle.   

Now that he was looking from the inside, Draco saw that the stone Granger was leaning on, like all the others, had a rune carved into the inside face as well. 

Not a rune he recognised. He noticed that he didn't know any of the runes on the stones - but he didn't study ancient runes anyway. But they were glowing: the rune on Granger’s stone shone in a strong golden light, and the others seemed to be slowly lighting up as well. 

Draco felt a chill run down his spine. He didn't need to study runes to know that they circled, glowing, were not a good sign. He lowered himself in front of the weeping witch, shaking her arm. 

"Granger, let's get out of here" 

She didn't even move. 

"Granger, seriously. We have to get out of here! I'll take you to she-weasel. Longbottom. Anyone, just let's get out of here." 

She opened her eyes, finally, and looked up at him, her face red, puffy and wet, her nose sniffling. 

"Why do you care, Malfoy?" She asked, angrily.

"What?" 

"Why do you care?” She repeated.

“I don't know," he said honestly, his voice weak, looking deep into the witch's eyes.

She held his gaze for a while before shaking the arm he was still holding. “You get out of here. I've never felt better, thank you”. 
Then, she used the arm that wasn't being held by him to push his shoulder. 

The instant her hand touched him, however, it glowed with the same shade of gold that now illuminated all the runes. His hand on her arm also glowed, and he tried to pull it away but nothing happened.   
 
They were stuck. 

Their gazes met, nervous and frightened, and Draco saw the witch's eyes glow from brown to golden.  

Her gaze began to obscure his vision but he couldn't close his eyes or look away.  

They were stuck.   

And when the light shone so bright and became so white that Draco just knew his retina would be burned forever, he lost consciousness.

Chapter Text

When Draco awoke, he was in a soft bed.  
He opened his eyes slowly, remembering clearly the last events, afraid that he wouldn't be able to see, but his vision was perfect. 

And he was in the… hospital wing? 

"Draco!" 

His mother threw herself, wrapping her arms around him as Draco observed where he was: indeed in the hospital ward, in a stretcher surrounded by curtains.    

Within the isolated circle he was in, were a curious group of people: Granger was in the next bed, awake but gazing resolutely at the curtain. Beside her, Arthur Weasley looked sombre.  
Minerva McGonagall was there, talking in whispers to the Minister of Magic and a second, antiquated-looking wizard, who seemed uninterested in everything around. And at his side stood Herald Burke, the chairwizard of the sacred twenty-eight and their representative at the ministry. 

"You woke up! Are you okay?" Asked his mother, anxious. 
Draco nodded, and noticed that all eyes in the group were turning to him - except Granger’s.  

He saw the headmistress exchanging a look with his mother before approaching the bed. 

"Draco. This area of the hospital wing has been isolated, warded and silenced, so I need you to understand the seriousness of the next few minutes before we proceed. Right?"  

He just nodded, again. He didn't know what was going on, so he preferred to talk as little as possible. 
He hated to appear ignorant. 

"Very well. Please tell me what happened to you tonight, since you entered the room of requirement”.

And he recounted the events. He didn't dwell on the description of Granger's drunken state, he just said that she was out of her right mind. When he finished his history, his mother held his hand tightly, and he looked at her worriedly. 

"Mother, what is it? Was it a curse? Did something happen to me?" Draco tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice, for his mother's sake. 

But Narcisa just shook her head and looked at the headmistress, who proceeded: 

"Mr. Malfoy, do you have any idea what the circle of stones you described was?"  
 
There was a similar circle in Wiltshire, and he had been to the site a lot. He knew it was something ancient, immersed in old and powerful magic, and used for rituals. 

But the circle there seemed dormant. It had never lit up, never been active on any of his visits.  
So he thought it best to deny it, and  shook his head. “No, although it looked like a circle of ancient magic. Celtic ?" 

"Druidic, to be exact. It was a Druid magic circle, used to perform various rituals, celebrations and rites of passage. Each of the stones you saw was connected to a type of ritual or celebration. From the description and memories Hermione showed us, we identified some of these runes as linked to rituals for birth, death, protection… and soul bond. Marriage”.  

Here she paused and looked at Granger - who had not moved since Draco woke up and was still staring at the curtain - and took a deep breath before continuing.  

"The stone that Hermione stood on... the stone that she leaned on in a moment of vulnerability, with her soul and her Magic core exposed, was the stone for matrimony. And the moment you entered, willingly, into the circle; the moment you touched her, spontaneously, and that she returned the touch, also freely... you activated the ritual". 

"Ritual? What ritual?" He looked from her to his mother, distraught. 

This time, his mother looked down. 

"Of marriage, Draco. You and Hermione were accidentally married in a soul-bonding druid ceremony." 

The silence in the room was deafening. And, after some time, was surprisingly broken by Granger, who came out not only of her stupor but also of the secluded area, lifting the curtains and walking out of there. 

Arthur Weasley started to follow her, but Shacklebolt held him back “Leave the witch, Arthur. She deserves some time alone." 

Draco's head raced. 

"Right, and how do we undo that?" He asked McGonagall, desperate. 

She smiled sadly before answering.  

"You don't undo it, Draco. You're bound by souls now. Tiberius Ogden came along with the minister to enlighten us about the ancient magic that bound you and Hermione together, but one thing we all know for sure is that you cannot undo soul-bonding." 

He knew that, of course. When souls connected, even the death of one would not release the other, who felt the loss of the bond until their own demise. But the hysteria made Draco lose his mind. 

"What now? We can ignore this, right? Go on with our normal lives?" 

The headmistress shook her head "I believe not, Draco. It wasn't just any bond you two created, it was a bond of marriage. An ancient, but magically valid, marriage bond. With archaic stipulations and… needs. The moment you were joined, the ministry was notified of the union, automatically drawing up the marriage certificate. Your mother was notified by the elves that to the Malfoy family tapestry was added a new name, and I imagine the same thing happened to the Black’s one. You and Hermione Granger are legally married, in every sense." 

"And we can't annul that marriage? It was a mistake! A mistake!" His voice sounded hysterical to his own ears. 

Married? At eighteen? And what was infinitely worse, without even choosing his wife?  

After all the war, hadn't he earned the right to freedom at all?
It wasn't fair! 

Who answered was the rickety wizard - which was Tiberius Ogden, according with McGonagall, and who seemed annoyingly amused at Draco's ignorance :
"As I've already explained to Arthur, lad, old magical marriages like yours are unshakeable. If you tear up the certificate, it magically restores itself. You can't undo that bond in any way. It is a magical contract between souls, written in stone. That’s no coming back”. 

Draco looked at everyone in the room, waiting anxiously for someone to come up with a solution.
 
Burke stood up from his corner. 

"Draco, my boy, don't be like that! It was an unorthodox choice of wife, I admit, but we can be fine with it!" He said, patting Draco on the back, who for the first time thought that the wizard must be completely lunatic, displaying a lack of sense and a good mood completely inappropriate for the moment.

As Draco didn't respond, Burke continued, now speaking lowly, just for him and his mother to hear.  "We'll play the publicity in your favour, Malfoy. As soon as we get to the mansion, before we even get past your new duties-"  

Here he had to interrupt, loudly, "Mansion? What duties?" 

The headmistress overheard and it was she who replied, crossing her arms "While it is completely acceptable for married students to remain in school - it hasn't happened in decades, but there are no impediments - contrary to my strong pedagogical recommendations, Mr. Burke seems to think that your new duties as Lord Malfoy are incompatible with school life."

"Lord Malfoy? But Lord Malfoy is my father!" He was shouting now, but couldn’t control himself. 
 
Even in prison, Lucius had not lost his title. He had his rights and activities suspended, true, but that was all. The title was still his!

"Not anymore!" Said a smiling Burke. "With your marriage, you became Lord Malfoy: It's your family tradition, my boy! And your responsibilities are many, besides managing the estate and taking your seats on the councils and court. It is not compatible with a school life, however admirable the intentions of Minerva here may be."

The teacher's nostrils flared "’Minerva here’ thinks further education would be beneficial in the situation! Arthur, acting as Hermione's surrogate father, has agreed with her that the best option is to continue in the school, while in parallel she prepares to take on the duties. And, if Lady Malfoy is to stay-"
 
Here Draco intervened, confused: “Mother, are you staying at school?" 
Nothing made sense anymore. 

Narcisa let out a soft laugh "No, dear. I'm Mrs Malfoy now. Or former Lady Malfoy. Your wife is the new Lady. I have agreed to keep the duties until June, so that she can finish her schooling and take the classes appropriate to her new role as Lady Malfoy."

"Granger? Mother, you can't be referring to Granger! Please be serious! She's mud- muggleborn, for Merlin's sake! She doesn't have the breeding! She doesn't have the upholstery to be a Lady!"

Draco heard McGonagall snort, but he didn't look away from his mother, who just shook her head, sad, until Arthur Weasley come to them and tugged at his arm.  

Hard.
It hurt.
Draco just didn't let out an 'Ouch' because it would only make the situation even more ridiculous. 

He looked at the wizard and realized that he had never seen Weasley Senior angry before.
It was scary.  
His blue eyes distilled an unseen anger - which may be the reason why it seemed so real. 
And threatening. 

"Listen here, lad. You will respect your wife! Did you hear me?" he asked, in a low and menacing voice.

Draco's response was indignant and automatic, "Of course I'm going to respect Granger! I know my role! My responsibilities to her!"

Artur Weasley let go of his arm and analysed him for a few seconds, as Draco returned his gaze, lifting his chin.

Seemingly satisfied with whatever he was searching in his eyes, the older wizard piercing ones released him.

"Good. Lucius and I don't agree on much, but we both know the importance of valuing family. I can expect the same from you, correct?"

Draco nodded without even thinking. That wasn't the problem here! To insinuate that he would act in a manner inappropriate to his role, which he was raised from the cradle to assume - unlike Granger - was absurd! 

Burke intervened, "Good then! Let's go? We have weeks of hard work ahead of us, Lord Malfoy, that starts now!"

Draco nodded, sad. The last few months without responsibility. The freedom he had to choose a wife.
All thrown away.

Why the hell didn't he just go to that fucking party?, he thought, bitterly.

Chapter Text

Hermione closed her trunk and looked around, an ache in her chest. 

The last house she had ever known.
The last place she had called home and now she was leaving for a new life, completely different from anything she had ever wanted for herself. 

"Mione, hey" Ginny looked at her from her bedroom door. "Shall we? The tower is already empty. You know you can't stay behind" she said, smiling. 

The redheaded witch had been Hermione's faithful confidant since that fateful night in September.  
The night that changed everything, and nothing at the same time.
Everything because Hermione Jean Malfoy's life was completely different from the life Hermione Jean Granger wanted for herself.
And nothing because no one knew. Well, no one except Arthur, Molly and Ginny. 
And Malfoy and his mother, of course. 

Hermione decided she wanted to live that last year in a normal way. So after crying and screaming and venting to Ginny, she made her friend swear her to secrecy. And swear to cast a disillusionment spell in her name on the Grimmauld’s tapestry before Harry saw it, too.  

And apart from the occasional crying fits, the books on etiquette and household and property management, and the lessons she was taking with Molly discreetly on the customs of the twenty-eight sacred, she managed to carry the year in normality.  

Well, except for Ron.  
When she ran out of the Gryffindor’s tower in the middle of her birthday party - to which Harry and Ron were invited, obviously - and returned in the late hours of the morning, dishevelled and tired, her then-boyfriend was awake in the common  room, waiting for her. 

And he seemed to have concluded the worst.
Ron was insecure, and the fact that she had virtually spent the night outside her room made him deduce that Hermione was cheating on him. 
When she denied but also refused to explain where she'd been and just cried, he became furious.  
And then sad.  
He begged her to tell him where she'd been, and who she'd been with, but she didn’t budge. 

When he left, slamming the door, she was sure that was the last she would hear about Ronald Weasley. 

But he sent letter after letter, week after week, asking her to take him back.  
To talk.  
Anything. 
Her response was always the same, time after time: "I'm sorry, Ron, but I can't be anything more than your friend." 

Harry tried to reason with her, asked what was going on, but Ginny intervened. Hermione didn't know what her friend had said, only that Harry gave up arguing with her and seemed to stay neutral between her and Ron. 
Thanks to Merlin for the little miracles. 

Christmas was the hardest.  
She really wanted to go to the Burrow, despite the situation with Ron.  
Molly and Arthur knew, Ginny knew. And with her parents in Australia, without even knowing about her because of the irreversibility of the memory spell she cast on them, the Weasleys were the only family she had. Well, apart from the Malfoy's now. 

A few days before Christmas, however, Narcisa Malfoy must have found out - or deduced - Hermione's plans, for she received a letter that mentioned how undesirable it was for the new Lady Malfoy to spend the holidays away from her family, and that if she wanted to stay at Hogwarts to continue her studies the idea would be greatly appreciated, but that ‘flanking the wizard world in the bosom of any other family would be a transgression of Lady Malfoy's duties, which were waiting for her as soon as she set foot outside the castle’. 

Hermione considered going anyway, and putting up with her mother-in-law's anger. Would they set up a siege on the Burrows to get her out of there?
But in the end, it seemed so childish. No matter what, these people were her family now.
Forever and ever. 
The situation was tense enough as it was, and Hermione saw no reason to make it worse. 

On one of the nights she and Ginny had stayed up discussing everything, that they had made a promise to each other. 

The dormitory was now theirs alone. Ginny had moved into the makeshift 8th year dormitory, which only Hermione occupied because Parvati refused to come back after what happened with Lavender..
And it was the thought about Lavender - and Fred and Tonks and Lupin and Colin and everyone else - that had motivated the promise. 

"You have to live, Mione, and live well. For their sake; for the ones that we lost, because their lives were taken.They can no longer live. They are not here to continue their paths, even if those paths were unlikely - like marrying to a slime git. Of course it's not the life you wanted, tied to the ferret and his snobbish family. But you have to make the best of it, Hermione, the best the circumstances will allow. Do you promise?" Said a little drunk Ginny.  

"Only if you promise the same," Hermione said back, serious.  

"It's easy for me. But I promise" Ginny returned with equal solemnity. 

And from then on Hermione resolved to do her utmost to reconcile herself to the idea of the future that awaited her. 

As she closed the dormitory door behind her, Ginny gave Hermione a hug. 

"You know the boys will be waiting for us at the station, right?" 

Hermione just nodded.  

"What do I tell them when they see you leaving with Malfoy and his mother?"  

"The truth, Ginny. Everything is going public now, anyway. As soon as I leave, you have my permission to tell anyone everything, okay?" 

"Okay. Write me as soon as you can?" 

"Of course," smiled Hermione, but even she knew it was a sad smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. 

It's okay, she thought taking a deep breath.  
I'll make it.  
I'll make the best of it. 

Chapter Text

"She's late."
Draco didn't even raise his eyes from the newspaper he was reading, propped up on a pillar in the station, to answer his mother:
"The train delay is hardly Hermione's fault, Mother."

That was one of the main changes of the last few months, he reflected. Thinking and talking about Granger as Hermione. She was Malfoy now, and it wasn't right for her husband to call her by her maiden name. 
But it was bloody difficult. She always had been ‘Granger’ before.  

The workload was another change, a much bigger one. Draco had no idea that his father had so many duties, and on top of that he still had his Black duties.  

Of course with responsibilities came powers, he thought. But even if the power and freedom of being the head of the family were incredible, he still wasn't convinced that the weight of duties didn't pull the scales of his situation to the downside.
 
He had worked to change his whole stance. His posture and mannerisms.
He was a Lord now.  
A head of a family.  
And he had to act with the seriousness his position demanded, all the time.   
At first, it was tiring. 
Then it just got dull.  

When the whistle blew announcing the train’s arrival, he folded The Prophet and put it inside the overcoat he wore.  
And when the platform filled with students, some greeting him curiously, he wondered what the formal excuse for his absence had been.  

Daphne knew, of course. She and Astoria were the first to send letters, in the very first week, asking of his whereabouts. 

The first to send letters, because Theo and Blaise had actually gone to the mansion, in the day after his ‘marriage’, intending to question Narcisa about the reason behind the disappearance of all Draco’s  belongings from their room at the dungeons. 

It would be just the three of them that year. Draco suspected he would never hear about Goyle again. Draco's presence reminded him too much of Crabbe.  And Nott had come to talk to him right after the battle, his fathers' experience with the Dark Lord serving as a bond between them.  

With Theo, came Blaise.  

And they made an implicit agreement to look after each other, which lasted for those only three weeks Draco attended Hogwarts in the year. So, on Sunday, they went to the manor to ask his mother about him. 

Their surprise at being ushered into Lucius' study to speak with him was indescribable. 

And when Draco explained, in detail, what had occurred, it increased even more. 

"So, you have now not only been... promoted to the head of the family, but you are married to Granger?"  

"It was in the reversed order, Theo, but yes." 

The three of them were silent until Blaise let out, out of nowhere : 

"You could have done worse" 

"Excuse me?" Draco said offended, at the same time Theo looked at him in disbelief and let out "Weren’t  you the one who just called her ‘’mudblood’ the whole sixth year?" 

"Yes, but that’s because I know how to survive, Theo" Blaise said seriously. "My father was a half-blood, a fact unknown here in England. My Italian family is made up of witches of all blood types, and I grew up that way. But of course, in slytherin and amidst the rise of the Dark Lord I knew how to behave. I'm not stupid." 

Draco pulled at his memory and indeed, he remembered that Blaise only joined the hate speech that he, Crabbe and Goyle proclaimed in sixth year. 

"But that's beside the point. The thing is, Granger is smart, fit and passionate. Your life with her will be far from boring, mate." Blaise said, smiling. 

"I don't want a life with her at all!" Draco almost shouted.  
He couldn’t point exactly why, but Blaise speech in Hermione defense annoyed him immensely. 

"And she's a war hero. That's a good thing for your family name, isn't it?" Theo intervened. 

Blaise shook his head "Nah. That might even look good for the winning side, and get Draco some benefits, but the sacred twenty-eight will be furious. She's muggle, not even half-blood. But the political benefits outweigh the damage, I guess."  

Draco nodded in agreement.  

"Well, is there any alcohol in that studio? I think we need to drink to process all this" Theo said, running his hand through his hair.

When the train stopped, the first to get off were the younger ones, as always, excited about Hogwarts, eager to meet their families. 

Draco smiled as he saw a pair of small slytherins rushing next to him. 

Only then came the older ones, lazily chatting and planning meetings and travels for the summer. 

Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood were among them.  
Draco saw the two hugging and saying goodbye, then Luna walked to her father, passing Draco and Narcisa on the way.  

She raised her hand in a friendly nod, and he reciprocated with a sober nod. 

Weasley, on the other hand, barely took two steps in the opposite direction before Potter appeared out of nowhere and hugged her, twirling the witch around.  

Draco rolled his eyes at the ridiculous display of affection.  

Completely inappropriate.  

It was better that Hermione didn't even try anything like that with him, he thought. 

Behind Potter came Ronald pathetic Weasley and their mother. Draco looked away from the family to look for his wife. Are

And there she was. Of course she had to be the last one to exit the bloody train. Floating her luggage beside her, cat in her lap, the fucking witch walked as if she had all the time in the world. 

He saw a commotion out of the corner of his eye when Weasel tried to go after her, but the wizard’s mother pulled him by the arm, whispering something. 
Clever witch.  

Hermione Jean Malfoy walked up to them quietly.  
Then, stopping in front of them both, she greeted Narcisa politely and cracked a slight, clearly forced smile at him. 

Both greetings were answered with forced kindness, since they were in public.  
In private, Draco had no intention of being friendly to the witch who had usurped the place that would have belonged to a proper and legitimate Lady Malfoy.     
Polite, yes. Doing his duty, always. 
But being friendly or nice to her, he would never be.  
That would give her the wrong impression; the impression that he accepted her there. And nothing could be further from the truth. 

So he pulled out his wand and grabbed the control of her luggage, held out his arm to the witch, who accepted it immediately, and spun around to disappear. 

The last thing he saw before they disappeared was an angry Ronald Weasley marching towards them.

Chapter Text

Hermione's first impression of Malfoy Manor was not exactly what she had expected.  

Having only been there at night, and under duress, she had it in her mind that the place was lugubrious.  
Gloomy.  
Dripping dark arts.  
Abigger, meaner version of Grimmauld Place. 

When they appeared in front of the gates, however, Hermione realized that she was completely wrong. 
It wasn't mournful.  
It wasn't gloomy. 
And it wasn't even a mansion. 
Malfoy Manor was a real palace. M A palace built on sloping ground, lower on the north and west sides than on the south and east sides, with a large central courtyard. The main entrance was on the west front, which was embellished with four towers or turrets.  
The façade was dramatic and sculptural with ionic pilasters and a heavy entablature and balustrade. 
The place even had a fucking fountain! 

She could even see woods on the moors to the east of the valley, forming a backdrop to the garden.  

It was perfect.  
It was beautiful.  
And she could understand why Voldemort had taken up residence there. The place looked regal, noble, imposing. 

As they walked the long way to the main entrance, she wondered if appearing inside the gates was impossible or if the Malfoy's had made the effort to walk so far to impress her with the enormity of their ancestral home. 
Well, if that was what it was, they had succeeded. Planting a smile on her face, she turned to her mother-in-law. 

"Your house is beautiful, Ms. Malfoy" 

Narcisa looked her up and down and closed her face, not deigning to reply. 

When they finally arrived, Draco summoned an elf to take care of Hermione's luggage and asked her to accompany him to his study. 

He was more serious, she noticed. 
Sober. The weight of responsibilities as head of the family were taking their toll, and it was visible in his eyes. 

When he sat down at his desk, she waited for him to indicate that she could sit down before she did so. That was against all her instincts, but she had learned some rules of posh behaviour from his society and wanted to show her newfound knowledge. 

If he noticed her efforts, Draco didn't comment, merely indicating with his arm for her to sit down. 
"Right, Hermione" her name sounded drawn, hateful, in his cold voice. "As you know, you are now Lady Malfoy. And obligations accompanies this noble title. You have to program the daily meal menu, supervise if this estate is kept at its best on a daily basis, participate in clubs, associations, foundations and organise events. My mother can help you with this. You have your own studio, which the elves will show you. I took the liberty of preparing a binder with the necessary information, it is in your desk. Your room has already been prepared, and I always expect you punctually at the table at meal times. Any questions?" 

As she shook her head, Hermione felt like she was in a job interview - an extremely demanding one, where she knew she would never please her employer. 
And to fill a position she never wanted to apply for, in the first place.  

"Good. That covers everything for now. Wendy!" 

An elf appeared, wearing a very clean tea muffler with the Malfoy insignia. 

"This is your new mistress, Wendy. Hermione, Wendy is your private elf. If you want to free her and pay for her services, fine, as long as you do it with your allowance money - and don't even think about trying to free the other house elves. I have opened an account at Gringotts in your name, and you will receive six gallons a month for your personal expenses." 

Hermione felt as if she had been slapped. Not that she cared about money, and she doubted she would need much living here, but it was the gesture.  
She doubted Narcisa Malfoy had a budget of six gallons a month.  
The amount certainly wouldn't cover even a pair of the witch's shoes.  
It was a way of minimising Hermione, and she wasn't going to let herself be affected by it.   

She just nodded, smiling at Wendy. 
 
"Right, Draco. Wendy, if you could show me my room, please?"
She would like to say, as they left, that Draco looked shaken from his complacent posture, but the wizard was already writing on a parchment, not paying the slightest attention to them.

After getting to know her room - and her bathroom, and her coupled private room, and her study, and the library - Hermione was exhausted.  
She made a point of releasing Wendy and hiring her on payment of three galleons a month and regular weekly time off.  
Of course she tried to offer more, but that was the most the elf accepted. 

Wendy was a sweetheart. Sweet, young, friendly and eager to please, she helped Hermione get ready for her first family dinner with a smile on her face. 

As she entered the dining room, Narcisa did the same coming from the opposite door . There was a moment in which they both looked at the lady of the house's chair, but Narcisa looked away and sat at the other end of the long table, next to the chair reserved for Draco.  
 
Hermione felt as if she had achieved her first victory of the day. 

Dinner was silent, to say the least. Courses and more courses of food came and went, in  a truly banquet, more appropriate to feed ten people than just three.  
Hermione remained silent, not knowing what to say, and Draco seemed to be in the same mood.  
 
On the rare occasions when Narcisa spoke, she did it in a low voice, looking at her son and ignoring Hermione. 

Well, it could be worse, she thought. It wasn't a warm welcome but she knew this was how things would be. Her future, regardless of her will, was there, with those two people, and so she would make the best of it. 

Hermione was nothing if not tenacious.

When, after dinner, Wendy appeared in her room to help her get ready for bed, Hermione was forced to face something she had preferred not to think about all day.  

She and Draco needed to consummate their marriage. 

It wasn't a matter of legal necessity. They could go their whole lives without touching each other and that wouldn't be grounds for annulling the marriage.  
No, the problem was the bond. 
The magical, ancestral bond she had disastrously activated that fateful night nine months ago.
She'd read all about it, and even corresponded with the ministry's expert, Tiberius Ogden, to understand everything about it.  
 
And the thing was, their marital bond required them to share magic with each other from time to time.  
Physical proximity helped, but the sexual act needed to be practiced often.   
Otherwise, they would suffer from severe migraines, weakening of their magic and propensity to magical illnesses. 

Draco certainly knew this; she bet he had studied the bond as much as she had. Besides, she'd had such severe migraines over the past few months that she'd missed days of classes with each crisis in the hospital wing. 
Hermione doubted that her husband wasn't going through the same symptoms.   

And, in a fun spell class in which Flitwick had bid the class farewell by recalling the first spell he'd taught them, she'd failed to cast a simple vingardium leviosa.
No, she was quite certainly that Draco was going through the same things. 

Dressing not too daringly - because Merlin forbid she should actually be a woman with capital W; a witch with blood in her veins and a sexual appetite; it would horrify her posh husband - but neither so covered up as to look like a frightened virgin, she put on a long, white, not-so-transparent negligee and sat in one of the comfortable armchairs at the foot of her gigantic bed, nestling in and waiting for the moment by which her husband would pass through the dreaded doors that connected their bedrooms.  
 
After all, that had been what Molly and all the books had said about wives of the sacred twenty-eight. 

They didn't work outside home.
They hosted and organised events.
And they were coy, waiting for their husband to initiate any and all sexual contact.

She couldn't tell at what point the anxiety gave way to tiredness, but when the day dawned and she awoke, having fallen asleep in her chair, Draco had not appeared.

Chapter Text

“You need to go to her, Draco!” 

"I know!” He said, looking at his mother, who had followed him to the studio after dinner. 

"Your head is getting worse, your magic is barely working!"
"Again, I already know, mother!" He pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated. 

His body was restless.  
He was fully awake and active; it was as if the bond sensed the witch was near and spurred him to action.  

"Just do it at once, Draco. Think of England or something" Narcisa couldn’t help the smirk in her face at those words. 

"Please, can you just keep yourself from talking to me about these things? You're my mother!"  

"Exactly. I know how the mechanics of conception work" she said, unfazed. 

He sank his face into his hands. 
"Just go, mother. I'll go find her soon, I promise"  

She looked at him with a sad expression and stood up, but stopped at the door. 

"I know you're not... physically attracted to the girl, but-"  

Draco let out a bitter laugh, and got up to grab a bottle of firewhiskey in the corner. 

"That's hardly the problem, I guarantee”. 

As he turned to the window to drink, he didn't saw his mother's surprised face before she left the room.

The problem, Draco thought, in that very studio, again after dinner but three days later, is that he was forced to sleep with Granger.  
Malfoy.  
Whoever she was these days. 

It wasn't that the witch wasn't attractive.  
That long, curly hair, begging to be pulled.  
Her eyes, dark and mysterious, with golden dots.  
Gypsy eyes, he'd read somewhere. And she wasn't delicate and thin like most pure-blood witches.  
Hermione had curves. She was bloody fit, always had been.
With a waist and breasts and a so fuckable ass that it had been a running joke among the boys in fifth year shorten the witch's skirt to try to get a glimpse of her round ass.

This, of course, was after the photo that had circulated in fourth year.
Taken by someone at the exact moment when Viktor Krum was lifting the witch in the dance, her breasts practically bounced with the movement of the photo.  

Beside the Gryffindors, he didn't know a boy from their year who hadn't wanked to that picture.
Himself included. 
Draco didn't know where the photo had ended up, but he suspected  Boot had faked losing it to keep it only for himself.  

No, Granger had always been attractive. The oldest of their class, the first one to mature. That was hardly the problem.  
If someone had asked him in the past if he would like fuck her, he would shake his shoulders and reply "yes, why not?" 

The problem was that now she was his wife. She forced a situation that caused them to have to do this.  
She forced a situation that led her to the place desired by every bloody witch in this country: Lady Malfoy. 

She got it all: the fame, the honour, the glory. A fucking muggleborn who, okay, could even be worthy of magic and all, but not of soiling his family name. If his father was alive, Draco was sure he would have preferred to see Draco dead than in this situation. 

Only unfortunately he wasn't.   

Lucius had died in Azkaban four months ago, without never knowing of his son wedding.  
And now it was Draco who had to live this travesty of a life, Draco who had to parade around with a simple, peasant muggleborn girl as his wife, and Draco who had to fuck her before his body got so weak that even that he couldn't do. 

Of course, he managed to make the most of the situation.  
When he received an owl, on the same day as the witch's arrival, from The Prophet, asking if he had any comment on his reputedly secret relationship with Hermione Granger, Draco was already prepared.
He spent months discussing the situation with Burke, to make the best of it.
Luckily, as ignorant about druid magic circles as Granger could be, she was still a war heroine.  
No, she was THE war heroine.  
British sweetheart.  
So, when the owl arrived, the Prophet’s reporter get a shocked reply from Draco: what did he mean by secret relationship? Didn't they know? He and Hermione Malfoy, née Granger, had been married in an intimate ceremony held on the witch's birthday last year!   
They were married under the blessings of ancient magic and forest lights, and he sadly had to take over his father's role at the head of the family, but the couple thought it prudent that Hermione Malfoy, first in her class and brightest witch of their generation, finish her studies before taking her place at the mansion.  

Had the journalist missed the announcement they had made in the Prophet itself, the day after their marriage? Draco would gladly send a copy, along with another of the marriage certificate!  
And he did indeed send it. Burke, a master at manipulating the wizard society for years, printed the wedding announcement the same day Draco came to the mansion.   

Unfortunately, by some owl misunderstanding, the announcement - small, two lines, with only the names of the bride and groom and the date of the nuptials - went into the classified advertisements section, below an advertisement for worn boots offered for two sicles and above an extremely large - and distasteful - advertisement about the luxury services offered by the company of witches in the Red Hall of Knockturn Alley.  
This ad had pictures, flashed, and basically overshadowed everything around it. 

Draco still smiled as he remembered it.  
Burke was a bloody genius. He had created the proof that the wedding had, yes, been announced by the family - assuming it had, therefore, been planned - by doing it in a way that the whole thing still remained a secret, as long as possible. 

It was a stroke of genius. 

In the next day, The Prophet posted a photo - badly taken, from the side - of Hermione and Draco arm in arm at the station, with the captions "Hermione Malfoy finally goes home!".   

Below the photo, the article "reminded" the readers that the couple had married last September 19, with the reprint of the proclamation, and gave the details Draco sent in the letter, creating the illusion of a planned and intimate union, completely appropriate for a wedding only a few months after the end of the war.  

In that same day, owls rained down on the mansion. Draco suspected that his mother had filtered them out, removing the pureblood hatred that had certainly arrived in weight.    

All that arrived in his hands were dozens of letters from partners, companies, families and politicians that conveniently removed themselves from the Malfoy's sphere in the post war period; now they all came back, congratulating Draco on his reunion with his wife! 
And would he have time to arrange a meeting?
 
Draco snorted.  
That was perfect, really. He was going to send a barrel of the old Odgen to Burke. 

His current problem, however, had no easy solution. 

Flipping his third glass of whiskey in a row, he set off after his dear wife.

Chapter Text

Hermione was exhausted.  
Wendy had prepared a relaxing bath, and she was in the tub, eyes closed, soothing her tired muscles. 
The tired muscles of her right hand, especially.  

She had lost count of how many letters she had answered since that bloody publication in the Prophet.  
Hate mail, of course:

‘How had you joined the family that had sheltered Voldemort?’ 

‘You are a disgrace to the muggleborns!’ 

‘Sellout’. 

‘Disappointment’. 

‘Whore’. 

’Traitor’. 

‘Gold digger’. 

It was amazing how half the letters were practically the same. These  people hadn’t any creativity?  

Anyway, regardless of the content, her answer was always the same: 

‘Draco and Narcisa Malfoy were crucial to Voldemort's defeat, both in the course of the war and in the final battle, and I feel honored to be part of their family’. 

His Hogwarts friends also sent messages, with different versions of the same thing: ‘Ginny told us’; ‘everything is going to be alright’; ‘we’re here for you’. 

Harry's letter arrived even before the paper. It was the only one that made her cry. 

"Mione

I understand now.  
And I love you.  
You always had my back, and I have yours.  
You're my sister, and if that makes me Malfoy's brother-in-law, that's my bad luck”.    

She couldn't remember laughing and crying at the same time before.  

Ron had written absolutely nothing. 

Ginny asked how things were, begging for scabrous details of life at the mansion. 
And Luna wrote asking if she could go visit the dungeons someday to disinfect them from moon frogs. 

When the door to her room opened, Hermione barely heard it, so relaxed was she in the bath. 
But her survival instinct made up for it when she felt someone staring her. 

And she turned just to saw Draco Malfoy standing on the threshold, looking at her with hungry eyes. 

She stood on the spot, almost jumping, splashing water everywhere. 
Then, Hermione realized that she stood completely naked in front of her husband. 

Naked and wet.  

Before she could process the situation, he closed his eyes and walked to the edge of the tub, blindly offering his hand to help her out. 

After she accepted it, Draco pulled her by the hand across the room, without looking back, and stopped near the bed, turning to look exclusively into her face. 

"Granger."  

He hadn't called her that since she  arrived at the mansion. 

"I imagine you know what we need to do here, right?" 

His gaze ran from one to the other of her eyes, anxious.
Pupils dilated. 

She nodded. 

"And I'm right in assuming you've done this before, so no extra caution is necessary, right?" 

Again, she nodded yes. 

"Perfect" he said, and three things happened in nanoseconds: he looked down at her body, put his hands on her waist, literally threw her on the bed and got himself on top of her. 

Hermione had never experienced that before.  
It was as if he wanted to devour her. He kissed her in an absolutely violent, passionate, perfect way, that never in her wildest dreams she expected from Draco Malfoy. 

He didn't seem to know what to do first: he twisted her hair and pulled so that she turned her neck, that  he sucked and bit; he squeezed her ass, fondled her breasts, all while grunting and pressing himself against her spread legs. 

His behavior was absolutely primal. And all the biting, the hard squeezing on her buttocks as if he wanted to tear her apart, the button of his trousers bumping all the time against her clit, all that made she as consumed by desire as he seemed to be. In record time she was moaning non-stop and pressing his ass against her with her nails. 

He pulled away from her quickly, and with wandless magic vanished his clothes. It had been about five minutes since the whole thing started but when he finally lifted one of her legs and thrust in, entering her at once with a groan that sounded more like a howl, Hermione could cry with relief.  

Draco seemed to want to fuck her in every possible way. He started like this, on top of her, squeezing her hips until he left marks.   

As suddenly as he started he stopped, turned her over and bit his way from her heel to the top of her thigh, biting hard and shaking his head, like a dog with a bone.  
She moaned and screamed, as enraptured as he was.  
When he finally reached her ass, she turned her neck to watch the scene. He sat on her thighs and slapped hard, one hand on each buttock, grabbing them afterwards. He repeated this once, twice, three times, all the while moving his hips.  
Apparently satisfied with her moans, with the way she undulated her ass against his hands, with the raw state of her buttocks, he reached down and returned the bites, now holding her legs open so he could bite not only her ass but also the inside of her hips and the skin around her cunt.  

She gave up trying to watch and propped her hands on the iron rails of the bed, almost crying from how absurdly aroused she felt by then. 

Suddenly he mounted her from behind, returning to sit on her legs, and thrust again.  

With just two strokes she knew she was going to cum already, and began to undulate her ass even harder against him.  

Draco placed one of his hands on her neck, firmly holding her in place. 

"Don't you dare, Granger! I'm barely holding my fucking self, don't you dare to squeeze my cock with this bloody tigh pussy!"  

That was too much and she came, screaming, and not even him suddenly pulling out his cock was able to stop the orgasm he triggered. 

"Fuck" he shouted hard, holding her down and hutting in her from outside until she stopped moving, satisfied. 

"I should know you wouldn't obey" he bit her neck and thrust again. 
He continued to fuck her like that, all over her, moaning and licking and biting her ear until she was about to cum again. 

She thought it best to let him know this time. 

"Malfoy, I-I" 

He got off her on the instant, placed her body until she stayed on all fours and thrust into her like that. They both moaned loudly at the return of contact, and he pulled her hair hard, making the witch scream while he lifted her body against his.  

He licked inside her ear before saying, in a low voice and quieter than he had been since the whole thing had started. 

"Cum in my cock, golden girl."  

That made her cum again, and he basically pushed her back on the bed, pulling her hair and hutting in her like a madman, until he let out a roar, filling her hard, causing a outburst of magic that made all the candles in the room to go out. 

Hermione just felt him roll onto her side before she fall asleep, exhausted, more satiated than she even remembered being.   

Her last coherent act, before she blacked out, was to look at him smiling, completely surprised and dumbfounded by her husband's passionate behaviour.  

Chapter Text

Draco woke up amidst a cloud of comfort so intense that he didn't want to open his eyes, to not ruin the feeling. 

He was in the soft bed, with even softer covers and his hands wrapped around a body so impossibly soft it made the other two feel like rocks. 

And the smell! A sweet, soft smell that he wanted to rub his nose on it. 
Forever.  

Sighing, he opened his eyes and met Hermione Granger's amused gaze.
Malfoy.
Whatever. 

"You are a cuddler." She said, smiling. 

He looked down and saw that his arms were firmly past the witch's waist, his face inches from her hair.  

He released her so abruptly that he seemed to have taken a shock. 
Going to the edge of the bed, he left quickly, walking briskly to his room and closing the door behind him.
 

"Willy told me you missed your meetings this morning"

His mother was sitting in the green room - her favourite, with books and flowers and a fucking piano -  sipping her tea, with an amused smile. 

Similar to Hermione's this morning.
Fuck. 

"Hence the fact that I need to make up for the lost the time now. I just came to warn you that I won't be back in time for dinner, Padraic McLaggen has rescheduled our meeting for a dinner in diagon alley" 

"Hummnm" replied his mother, still smiling "You look healthy this morning, son". 

"Why, thank you mother. I imagine it's a mothers prerogative to always worry about the health of her children, even as adults". 

He turned to leave the room. 

"Dear?" 

"What now?" he turned around, irritated. 

Narcisa looked at him contrarily, subtly recriminating his lack of manners. 

"The scratches, son. If I can see them down the collar of your dressing gowns, sure others will too. You better make an habit of fixing that before you leave your room, or let your hair grow out".  

Draco could have sworn she was holding back her laughter “It won't happen again" he said, looking at the piano.  
 
He was embarrassed. It was not proper for a serious man, a Lord, to go around with evidence of sex stamped on his body. 
And to be caught by his mother, like a fucking teenager!

"Of course it won't, darling" she said, with the tone of someone talking to a child.

Draco thought that if he had to spend another half hour listening to Padraic McLaggen's annoying speech, he would gouge out his own eye with his salad fork. 

‘I understand your proposal,’ he wanted to say, ‘But your apothecary is shit, so I'm not interested’.

Since he couldn't say that - damn business - he would just nod and listen, while his mind wandered.  

If the fucking company was interesting he wouldn't be thinking about her.   
About the way she screamed and thrusted herself against him, matching his every move. The hungry look in her eyes as theirs crossed, him slapping that perfect ass and her almost creaming her sheets just from the contact. 
Her cumming as he pulled her hair and fucked her raw. 

Fuck. 

He was fucked. 
 He wanted her again. And again and again.  

She was good.  
Really good.  
The best he ever had.   

And that wasn't bond. He felt the bond pass between them, the magic of them both intertwining and nurturing, in the end. When he was cumming it. When the candles went out.  
That was the bond.  

Their bond didn’t for how they made it. They could have gone missionary, quiet and boring all the way and the bond would have nourished itself the same way. 
 
The excellence of the sex, he could not deny even if he wanted to, was purely them. 

He and Granger.  
Granger with her hot body that made he lose all control just swing her naked body.
And her sexy voice!
And that pair of tits he wanted to fill with bites next time...

He stuck a fingernail under his thumb until it hurt, to control himself.  

He didn't want to think about the next time; of the weeks it would take for the bond to weaken, so he’ll have a excuse do fuck the witch again.  

Shit, he wanted her right now! 

And why not? He thought, suddenly, while listen to a long and completely erroneous explanation about the effects of the polyjuice potion.  

Burke told him to make the most of the union. Of course he was referring to the political capital of the thing, but Draco might as well extend the concept to the rest of his marriage.
He would make the most of not only Granger's name, but her body as well. 
And, after all, she was his. His wife. He could fuck her every night if he was in the mood.  
 
And that wouldn't change anything.

They had crossed paths in the hallway when he had quickly returned to the mansion to change dressing gowns and nodded to her, who simply returned the nod.   
She had not come to expect things he would never give. Like affection, he thought, scoffing.

Sex wouldn't change anything. She would still remain his karma.
A dead weight he would have to drag around forever. An embarrassment. But he was a slytherin, after all, and he would make the most of the situation. Whether it was twisting the fucking druid marriage in his favour I’m business or indulging in bedding her whenever he wanted.

Chapter Text

Sex had changed everything. 

That night had been completely enlightening for her, Hermione thought, in the very next morning.  

Their night together had opened her eyes to a new side of her husband; a side that she never thought existed. 

When Hermione was in her first year and developed her first crush, it was obviously on him.
Draco was by far the best looking boy in their class, always had been. 

Plus he had impeccable manners, was always well dressed and was intelligent - always second only to her. So, of course she had her first crush on him - despite him being mean to Harry.  
Since in that first year he didn't even address her, she saw no reason to dislike the boy personally; in fact, he being Harry’s ‘enemy’  gave him a bad boy air that she found quite attractive. 

And when she walked into the library one night after Christmas and saw that he was at her favorite table, quietly reading Hogwarts: a History, the twelve-year-old Hermione was sure she would love that boy forever. 
But in the next year he broke her heart.  

Draco Malfoy was her first love, and her first disappointment.  

In the second year, when he started insulting her with his racist slurs, much of her sadness - besides, obviously, for finding out that her birth was a reason for persecution in her new world - was from discovering that he was that kind of person: a prejudiced racist, who didn't even consider her worthy to inhabit the same world as him. 

It was an immense disappointment.   

But of course, as no one stops fancying someone overnight, for some months she tried to look for attitudes in him that would redeem his character. But as time went by, his personality proved to be increasingly worse, colder, more evil, and she completely gave up any kind of affection towards the boy. And with time she got over it completely.  

When she learned of his tortured suffering, in the sixth year and throughout the war, her opinion of him changed once again. Now she no longer felt a teenage crush or disappointment at his postures , but rather pity.  
Pity for what he was, what he was raised to be.  
Draco Malfoy was a complete waste of potencial.   

After that she didn't think much more about him. She had had no more reason to change her formed opinion of Draco Malfoy.
And that is what she thought of her husband at the time of their marriage and until last night: he was a handsome, attractive, cultured and educated man but distant. Cold. 

Well, last night he showed that he was anything but cold. His behaviour was completely surprising!  
She had expected him to approach her treating the act between them as the obligation it was; that he would be cold and surgical.  
But he was the complete opposite of that.
He had been passionate.
Voracious. 
Hungry.  
Hungry for her. 
And that was pure Draco Malfoy, not the bond.

The kind of ancient bond they shared didn't make them particularly attracted to each other, or feel special pleasure in each other's presence; it ‘just’ bound their magic and weakened it when they were physically distant.
It was basically a way of forcing copulation to ensure a fertile union. 

So he might well have had a clinical approach towards her in bed, as he had with everything else in their matrimony.  

However, he was so passionate, so warm, so attracted to her, that it was hard not to remember the positive side of him, and those first things that led to her feeling affection for the boy.   

Now he was an adult who might be cold during the day, but his completely opposite behaviour  during the night - the fact that he was capable of such passion, passion towards her! - made her think that maybe, if he kept it up, she was in serious danger of falling in love with him again. 

"Wendy, can you tell me why the menu I made for this week has changed?" 

Hermione looked confused at her planner. She had managed, in a tense conversation in her husband's office a couple of weeks ago, to convince him to decrease the courses of each meal. 

"Why?" He asked when she state her case, without even glancing up from the letter he was writing. 

"Because there are only three of us, Draco. We don't need full courses at every meal! Most of the food is wasted, I checked with the elves and they informed me it is not reused." 

"Who reuses food?" he looked at her, visibly confused. 

"Merlin, Draco! Basically everyone?" 

"Not here" he said, returning to his letter. "Not in my circles. In our circles." 

"Fine, but that doesn't change the fact that we don't need all of this on a daily basis." 

"I can afford it, Hermione”.

"I know, but that's not the point. Apart from the economy - which I know you don't need - the kitchen elves can focus on longer term activities, more complex preparations. It's a suggestion that has only benefits." 

He raised his eyes to her "Fine." 

"Fine?" 

"Fine. Would you like me to change my mind?" 

"No! Of course not, Draco, thank you!"  

"There’s no need to bow to me, Hermione. It's just bloody food. Now if you would be so kind as to return to your duties, I will return to mine" he said, again without looking at her. 

It had been almost two months since they'd moved in together. Almost two months in which Hermione found herself wondering if Draco Malfoy wasn't Mr. Hyde.  

After the first night, he cama to her room every night.  
Every night, without exception. They always had the best sex Hermione had ever had, by far, marking each other, tearing at skin, biting, screaming, kissing... and he always slept with her. Always.  
Not just because he might want to shag her again - which happened sometimes in the middle of the night - but he seemed to want to stay there.  
He always fell asleep afterwards, and not much later she'd wake up wrapped around him - an arm around her waist, or both, her being pulled to nestle into his chest.  
And more days than not she'd wake up with him sleepily nuzzling her neck, humming happily. 

But as soon as he opened his eyes, he would leave the room without a single word.  
And they spent their days separately, only seeing each other at meals - still silent, like the first one, with them reading the paper instead of talking on most occasions.   

Outside the room, Draco was that one that she grew accustomed in Hogwarts. Distant. Indifferent.

She couldn't understand her husband. 

Narcisa was easier to read: she was always cold towards Hermione, with no exceptions.  
But more than time she caught her mother-in-law looking at her thoughtfully, as they both went over something Hermione didn't yet know or as she tried, by leaps and bounds, to manage the house.
 
But none of her efforts to even  have a conversation with the witch were bearing fruit. 

"Mistress? Mistress hear Wendy?" 

"I'm sorry, Wendy. I was daydreaming. What did you say?" 

"I said Mistress Narcisa changed the menu for the visitors." 

"Visitors? What visitors?" 

"Mr. Draco's school friends. Mr. Blaise, Mr. Theo, Mistress Daphne and Mistress Astoria." 

"Wonderful!" She exclaimed aloud. "Just perfect! Is that little group arriving tomorrow? And the rooms for them? I don't even know them, not really! How am I going to organize everything necessary for a long stay in less than a day?" 

"Mistress Narcisa already did it, Mistress" informed a shy Wendy.

Hermione was overcome with a cold fury.  
She had been standing there, not setting foot outside the bloody mansion for two months because she had no fucking time for it - the exception being Harry's birthday, when she had lunch with her friend and Ginny, not wanting to go to the party to avoid encounters with Ron, at least for the time being -, as she lived crammed with accounts, menus, renovations, harvests, potions, elves and Merlin knows what else to organise and oversee, all that for not being even informed of the visitors' presence!  
 
She was deemed not capable enough to prepare the slytherin gang's stay!

She marched into Draco's office, barely calming herself enough to knock on the door before entering. 

"Yes, Hermione?" He, as usual, didn't even look at her. 

Hermione.
 Here she was always Hermione.  In bed she was Granger, Golden Girl, Good Girl, Minx, Perfect slut...
She blinked. 

"Did you, by any chance, think to let me know we'd have visitors starting tomorrow?" 

He raised his eyes, confused. 

"The owl arrived weeks ago, Hermione. How could you not know that?" 

"The owl arrived for who?"  

"My mother."
He scribbled again.  

"Right. Thanks for your time" she left quickly, heading to her mother-in-law's favorite room. 

Narcisa was reading a long missive when Hermione arrived in the green room. She knew the witch noticed her presence but didn't deign to acknowledge it until she made herself heard.  

"Mother-in-law"  

"Hermione" she replied, setting the letter aside.  

Unlike Draco, Narcisa always seemed to analyse Hermione when she tried to address her. 

"Would you kindly tell me why I was not informed of the guests' arrival tomorrow?" 

"I must have forgotten" she replied, analysing her nail polish. 

"Right" Hermione said, snorting "Next time, kindly try to remember before you make me miss days of work. I have to change my whole routine, not just the kitchen one! E-"  
 
"Hermione, dear," and here she dragged the ‘dear’. “I just didn't want to put you out. I figured you wouldn't like having to plan the stay of your husband's ex-fiancée." 

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione was dumbfounded. 

"Astoria Grengrass. She and Draco were betrothed since her birth. I thought this might... upset you" her mother-in-law said, analyzing her face calmly, not seeming the least bit concerned about whether or not it would upset Hermione.

"Not a bit. What pisses me off is seeing my work wasted. If you want to parade Draco's girlfriends, betrothed or ex-wives in front of me, be my guess. He is my husband, and I believe he is a serious and honorable enough man to respect his position." 

"I would never insinuate anything of the sort! Draco would never betray his vows! Infidelity is not something that Malfoys do!" Narcisa stood up, possessed, closer to screaming that Hermione had ever seen. 

"Exactly what I said" Hermione said, smiling.  

Narcisa stood mute. 

"My point remains. If my planning, if my work, is so irrelevant here, the former Lady can take it back. I assure you that I would rather be working in the ministry than running Malfoy Estate!" 

Narcisa looked at her, wary "Ladys of the old families don't work" she said, serious. 

"That's what they told me too! That's why I turned down offers from four different Ministry departments, from Saint Mungus, and even from the ministry of France! To be an ambassador! lI could be doing all these things, any of these things, and living my dream of actually having a career. Doing something important. Instead I'm here, in the middle of nowhere, doing a job I never wanted, that I never prepared for, and that you clearly don't think I'm qualified for! So, I repeat: next time you want to do my job, mother-in-law, just let me know. Just ask. I could use the free time to work on my books”. 

"Books? What books?" 

"I am writing a collection of  books about Aritmancy applied to Muggle technology. It teaches how to adapt modern muggle inventions to the magical world. The first volume has already been released, and I've acquired a copy for the family. It's in the library, under the pseudonym Jean Wilkins" she said, turning to leave.  

That conversation had left her exhausted. 

"When did you have time to write a book?" Narcisa asked aloud. 

"Oh, well, I take notes and do calculations at every meal, while you and your son read and ignore me. It's not like I have much to do in those periods anyway." 

With that, she left, slamming the door; good manners be damned.

Chapter Text

Hermione felt her mother-in-law's gaze on her during dinner.
 Which didn't stop her from opening a copy of the Evening Prophet, which Draco was also reading, and picking up a tiny quill, with which she discreetly made notes in the margins of the paper from time to time. 

After the conversation with her mother-in-law, she felt good. Victorious.  
The whole thing had been cathartic.
So much so, she thought, seeing her husband's handsome features as he absentmindedly pushed his hair away from his face, that someone was going to get lucky tonight.

Draco 

After dinner, Draco went straight into the green room to look for his mother, but he couldn't find her.  
After searching for a good while, he found Narcisa in the library, reading a book on modern arithmancy. 

He had to read the cover twice before he believed it. 

"Broadening your horizons, Mother?" 

She looked at him and smiled, enigmatic. 

"Something like that, Draco."
She returned to the book. 

"Mother… did Hermione come to you today?" 

"About?" She said, still reading. 

"About Theo, Blaise and the girls coming tomorrow." 

"Oh, yes. She questioned me earlier" 

"And?" 

"And what?" she was still reading. 

"Everything is... well?" 

She looked at him. 

"Son, are you worried about whether your wife and I are on good terms?" She raised an eyebrow. 

"Obviously not. I know you and Hermione will never be on good terms." 

"That's what it seems, isn’t it?" She said, turning her attention back to the book. 

Draco gave up.  
It was late, the day had been hard. The session of the Wizengamot would start in just a few weeks, and they would vote and create laws for the new society in the post war scenario. 

He hated the legislative process, and had spent hours on end exchanging owls with lawyers and studying archaic books.
He was tired.
He wanted to see Granger.
He needed to see

When Draco opened the door to his wife's room, he noticed something was different. 

She wasn't on the dressing table, tending to that hair that deserved its own postcode for being so big, and complex, and perfect... 

And nor in the armchair, reading.  

"Hermione?" He called out, loudly. 

"Here" she said, coming out of the dressing room. 

Draco looked at her and froze.  
He was used to wanting Granger. She was attractive as hell. And after he had started fucking her, now that he knew her body, she could wear a potato sack and it wouldn't make a difference. 
Her negligees were more than enough. 

But there she was, lush in Gryffindor red and black, with stockings and garters and a fucking corset, knickers absurdly tiny - and when she turned around he saw that an even impossibly smaller triangle was all the thin side straps held. 

It was the best thing he'd ever seen in his life.   
Draco was sure he was drooling.

Sensing his reaction, she smiled, predatory, and walked over to him. Before he could grab her and rip the whole thing off, however, she shoved him onto the bed, causing him to fall backwards. 

Merlin, he loved it when she was on top. Ridding him, taking what she wanted, her breasts bouncing until he squeezed them, leaking through his fingers, her nipples so appetizing he could rarely hold back the urge to flip her over just to suck those breasts and fill them full of marks... 

But she wasn't riding him, he noticed. The witch stopped between his legs and began to slowly lower his pajama trousers. 

Usually they snogged a bit before she sank on him, but if the witch was eager who was he to deny it, Draco thought. 

Until she crawled between his legs and bent down, rubbing her face against his cock like a fucking cat. 

He raised his hips automatically, mesmerized by the sight. 

She smiled and repeated the gesture, taking his cock in one hand and running it over her face - before she opened her mouth and started licking him. 

"Fucking Merlin!" He shouted, raising his hips again and closing his hands into fists. 

Draco Malfoy had never been sucked before. 

Of course he knew that there was such a thing.
He wasn't an idiot.
Just as he enjoyed getting into a witch's legs and making her cum with just his tongue and fingers, he knew there were women who liked to suck their partners. 

But not the women he'd slept with before. 

Patricia Yaxkey. Pansy. Millie. MacDougal. Lily Moon. And Astoria Grengrass.
All from respectable families.  
All eager to spread their legs for him, but not to take an active part. Merlin, Pansy wouldn't even touch his cock unless he asked. Yaxley had gotten so queasy when he'd asked for a handjob that if it hadn't been his first time he'd limped on the spot. 

Good, decent, respectable purebloods didn't do that. 
Good, decent, respectable purebloods could shag to satisfy their wizards, hopefully getting pregnant and trapping a husband in the process.
But good, decent, respectable purebloods don't bend down between her partner's legs and lick his cock like it's their favourite dessert. 

They don't moan, clearly dripping wet, as they circle the top of his cock with their tongues and fuck- 

"Granger" he didn't recognise his own voice, it sounded more in pain than aroused.  
It was the best torture in the world. 

She winked at him before opening her mouth and swallowing him, going halfway down only to go up and down again, and again, fucking him with her mouth. 

"Salazar, Granger," his hand automatically went to her hair, and he held a few curls as her head went up and down, up and down. 

Draco closed his eyes.  
He couldn't look.  
If he saw her there, sucking him off, he would cum instantly.
Inside her mouth.  
Like Blaise said he did once. 

Draco looked at the wall but he could feel her moving the head he was holding, and hear the wet noise from the witch's mouth who was fucking moaning as she worked on him. 

He began to twist under her, and closed his eyes.  

"Granger, I-I"  

She let go of him and he rose up on his elbows, desperate, ready to beg her to come back - but she had only stopped so he could control himself, and soon she was there, smiling and smearing her own saliva all over her face as she rubbed it against his cock, starting all over again. 

This time she climbed on top of his left leg and kept rubbing herself against it.  
Draco could feel how hot and wet she was.
Merlin, he was in heaven.  
Fuck everything if he could just stay there forever.  

He didn't even care about the moans and incoherent words that came out of his mouth, as she started swallowing him whole.
She shoved his cock deep down her throat in one slow motion, and held it there until tears streamed from her face and she needed to breathe. 

All the while fondling his balls. 

Salazar.  
If amortentia were a sight and not a smell, his would be that, because nothing was more addictive, intoxicating and alluring than Hermione Granger crying and choking while deep-throating him, coming back to more and more, eager, rubbing herself and dripping on his leg, and moaning and fucking- 

He realized he was holding her head too tight, practically shoving her face in his cock, and let it go immediately. 
He didn't knew proper blowjob etiquette, but hell would freeze before he did anything that make her want to stop.  

She released his cock with a wet noise and snuggled in it like a cat, again, before rising to him and speaking in his ear.
"It's okay, Draco. I wanna it" she said huskily, her throat sure to be sore from taking thrusts, which made him moan on the spot. 

"What?" he whispered, his voice weak, his eyes closed.
She postured herself in front of him until he opened his eyes, and eye to eye she spoke, in that husky voice:  

"I want it. I want to feel you thrusting in my mouth, in my throat. I want you to fuck me in every way, Draco".

He blinked. He knew nothing about receiving a blowjob, but her instruction seemed pretty self explanatory. Groaning, he pushed the girl's head down and as soon as she was in position, smiling, he thrust hard, impaling himself on her throat as he pressed her head hard against his cock.  
It was absurd.  
It was maddening.  
It was the best moment of his fucking life.   

Not flying the first broom, not joining the quidditch team, not his first time with a witch who barely moved.

No, it was him fucking Hermione throat dry, with her obviously loving every minute of it as much as he did. 

Not that it could last long. It didn't even give her time to stop for breath, in less than ten strokes he roared and held her head steady, gushing all his cum into her throat, screaming incoherent at her to "take it, take it, take it", until the last drop was poured out and swallowed by the witch. 

Draco released her, who sat back between his legs, smiling. 
Her face full of saliva, her hair stuck together, his cum in her mouth.  

He pulled her in for a kiss, and the taste of him in her made him proud.  
He wanted it all the time. The taste of him in her always, so she'd never forget who did this to her, who fucked her, who-
And he had an idea.   

"Up" 

"What?" 

He'd eaten her before, of course. But not like this.
He'd never done it before, but he'd seen a card.
And Draco knew his Granger would like it because she was woman enough, sexy enough, powerful enough, fucking perf- 

"In my face, Granger. I want you out of those tiny knickers and burying your cunt in my face. Now."  

She didn't need to be told twice. Standing up in bed and letting her knickers fall to his chest, she spread her legs over the sides of his head and leaned on the bed rails, lowering her cunt into his face while his hands automatically went to her ass, holding her there, while he stuck out his tongue, fucking her, his nose in the perfect position to stimulate her clit.  

He fucked her with his tongue, stimulating her with his whole face, but the show again was hers. She rode his face, up, down rubbing herself. His mouth hurt, his face was full of her juices, but he didn't care.  
In fact, he loved it.  
She was moaning and screaming, her hands came off the bed to squeeze her own breasts. 
She was a fucking goddess.
When she came, he licked her whole, lifting his hips and fucking the air, already ready to buried himself in her again.  

She barely dismounted and he pulled her in for a kiss, so that she could taste her just like he tasted himself, both of them mixed together. 

He rolled her to the edge of the bed and stood up. Oral sex was new to him and he wanted the most of it tonight.

She lay on the edge of the bed and propped herself up in her elbows, as he pulled her hair with one hand and slammed his cock in her face with the other.
He slammed, hard, once, twice, three times, while she pushed her face towards him, for Merlin's sake. 

"Your dirty minx. You want it in your mouth again, don't you?" He grunted more than he spoke as she began to moan softly.
She raised her eyes to him, and nodded, her eyes twinkling, the naughtiest smile in her lips. 

Salazar, he was going to cum within seconds again if she kept this up. 

He continued to hold her hair, and stroked her face with one hand before squeezing her chin, so she would open her mouth, and shove himself into it. 

He stayed like that, fucking her mouth, less deep than the first time, for a few minutes, but he knew he couldn't end it there again; he wanted, he needed to make her cum at least one more time. 

From day one he seemed to never have too much of that witch. 

He pulled her head up and made her turn around, on all fours, and opened her ass wide with both hands before thrusting in her soaked cunt.
It had been days since he'd fucked her this way, preferring lately taking her in any position that allowed him to play with her tits. She loved that he nibbled on her nipples, cumming once with just that.  

They both moaned as he thrust in. He pulled her up, wrapping her whole body, running both arms around her, tight, one hand squeezing her throat even harder, while he fucked her fast and hard from behind.
Before long she could no longer keep up with his movements and just stayed there, moaning, squirming, her walls beginning to contract.  

"You gonna cum in my cock, little slut? Gonna milk me hard, Granger?" 

She loved to hear dirty talk, as much as he loved to talk, and with a scream she cummed, squeezing him.
As soon as she finished he threw her on all fours again, and slapped her ass hard before commanding:

"Work, Granger!"
She remained still, gasping.
He repeated the gesture and she screamed, muffling the sound in her pillow. 

"I told you to work, Granger" he repeated, stroking the spot he slapped only to repeat the gesture later. 

"I can't, Malfoy. I-I don't think I can take anymore now, I'm too sensitive-" 

He pulled her by the hair and licked the witch's ear. 

"What, I fucked you with my tongue and my cock so hard that your abused cunt can't take it anymore?"  

She only moaned. 

"I don't think so, Granger. I think you're a little cockslut who wants more of my cock. Don't you?"  

She moaned again, incoherent agreeing with her head against him. 

"So" he threw her on the bed, on all fours again, and slapped her already red ass once more "work, slut!”. 

She obeyed, starting to rub and grind, fucking herself in his cock as he stood there, enjoying the view. 

"Use your hands to spread that ass for me, minx" 

She propped her face on the mattress and took both hands, one on each of her buttocks, opening it.  
He slipped his arms through hers, using them as handles to lift the witch up.
"Hold tight" he warned, as he pulled her to himself by the makeshift strap and fucked her hard.  

She cummed again, screaming, and he pushed her back on the bed, propped one of her legs up on the mattress, changing the angle a bit, and practically crushed her hips with his hands as he hutted in her until he came, with a grunt, staggering backwards from weakness after he was done. 

She turned and pulled him onto the bed, both of them collapsing in a pile of limbs. 

He didn't even bother pretending he didn't want to be near her, and hugged the witch around the waist before succumbing to sleep.

Chapter Text

"Lady Malfoy!" 

Astoria Grengrass had a really annoying voice, Hermione thought, watching the witch throw herself into Narcisa's arms, addressing her mother-in-law with Hermione’s title, without even looking in her direction. 

Daphne followed her sister, gushing around Narcisa, glancing briefly in Hermione's direction. 

The three Malfoy were in the foyer to greet their guests before dinner. Hermione was glad for their tardiness, since if they had arrived earlier they would not have found the couple ready to receive them.
 
She and Draco really had exhausted themselves yesterday, she thought, smiling internally.
When she woke up at noon, he was peppering kisses in her shoulder, and didn't even seem that shocked at himself when he realised what he was doing and left for his room. 

The two witches walked past her, scoffing, and went straight to Draco, hugging and kissing her husband's stoic face, on a exaggerated display of affection. 

"Ms. Malfoy. Lady Malfoy".

"Ms. Malfoy. Lady Malfoy".

To Hermione's surprise, both Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini addressed them by their correct titles, and greeted her with friendly smiles.
Astoria and Daphne had already taken hold of Draco's arms, and were pulling him into the dining room. He looked back towards Hermione, but Theo Nott was already offering his arm to her and Zabini to Narcisa.  

When they reached the table, Hermione noticed Astoria and Daphne looking dumbfounded to the seating arrangements. Did they expect Hermione not to occupy her position in the table in her own house? 

To her left sat Nott, to her right Zabini. Draco, in opposition, was franchised by the Grengrass sisters, obviously. Narcisa occupied the centre of the table, between Daphne and Theo. 

No sooner had they sat down than Astoria said in an extremely loud voice "Narcisa, darling, I've been missing you so much! It seems so long since we were last here at Easter! And before that we had that wonderful reunion at Christmas!" 

Narcisa smiled at the girl but didn't elaborate on the subject, and Hermione then understood where her mother-in-law's animosity was coming from.  
Sure, Narcisa Malfoy had never been particularly nice to her, but when they had met that night in September she hadn't been cruel or disapproving either.  
But that had been before Astoria and Daphne Grengrass spent the next few months offending her, telling God knows what to her mother-in-law. 

Before she could think much about it, however, Blaise Zabini caught her attention, asking her opinion on the legislation that would be voted about mandatory attendance at Hogwarts. She spent the most pleasant dinner she'd ever had in that room, chatting with Nott and Zabini. 

On the other side of the table, however, it seemed that things were not going so well.  
Astoria and Daphne were chatting non-stop, inserting Narcisa into the conversation every time, but failing to get Draco's attention.  
Her husband seemed grumpy, and all the while casting glances at her end of the table. 

When they finished eating, they made their way to the blue room - a larger reception place than the green one, with gaming and card tables. 

Draco, Nott and Zabini went to a card table and started playing some game she didn't know, drinking and smoking. 

Hermione, Narcisa and the Grengrass girls sat on one of the couches.  
The sisters began chatting with her mother-in-law immediately, in low tones, while Hermione sipped a glass of wine and ignored them just as they ignored her, making a mental list of her activities for the next day. 

When Narcisa excused herself to leave, Hermione saw that Daphne and Astoria were looking at her anxiously. It was clear that the witches did not want her presence there, which was precisely why she would stay.  
With her Narcisa leaving, she summoned Wendy and asked for a book from the library, and set herself to reading there, comfortable, under the stares and evil whispers of the Grengrass sisters.

 Draco
 
"I see your wife remains the same witch as ever, Malfoy" said Theo, as soon as Hermione had bid them farewell for the evening.   

Astoria and Daphne had
tried to get their attention, but Draco wanted to play and chat with his friends and wasn't in the mood for their insipid gossip. 

He wanted to know what the hell that little show at dinner was all about.  

When the sisters finally gave up, Hermione followed them, saying goodbye. 
Would she wait him awake? he thought, spinning two chips in his hands. 

"Draco?" Called Theo. 

"What, Nott?" 

"Granger. Lady Malfoy. She seems fine in the role." 

Draco scoffed, and started venting his annoyance:  

"What did you two talk so much about with her over dinner, by the way?” 

He had been possessed.  
How dare she laugh and chat with Theo and Blaise as if she knew them? She wouldn't talk to him, she wouldn't laugh with him, and he was her fucking husband! 

Not that he wanted those things, he added quickly to himself.
Not at all!
But it was just that she had shown such familiarity with them....  

Draco was assailed by a sudden suspicion: Had she ever been involved with either of them? With both of them?   
Merlin alone knew how much everyone wanted her! 

“Which one of you has already fucked her?” He growled, angry, looking from one to the other.

They both looked at him, shocked. 

"Draco, we just got here! Don't even-" 

"At Hogwarts, Theo! Was it you? Was it both of you?" He ran his eyes from one to the other "I want the truth, and now!" 

"Mate, you're insane! I-" 

"Answer me now, Theo, or I-" 

Blaise's voice sounded loud above them "No one here has ever touched your wife, Malfoy. Not before and not after your marriage." 

The relief he felt at that answer made him pick up his cards again, his two friends reluctantly mimicking him, looking at him as if he were the mad Xeno Lovegood.  

He wasn't crazy!  
His suspicion had made sense!   
And he still didn't know the answer:  

"So, what did you guys talk about at dinner?"  

"About the first package of laws that will be voted on in Court. As you, Theo will be taking over his father's chair, so we have asked her opinion on several of the issues." 

"Why on earth would you guys do that?" He was genuinely shocked by the answer. 

The two looked at him, incredulous. 

"You remember who your wife is, right? War heroine Slash fabulous swot? If anyone has an opinion formed, based and ready to defend on any legislative matter in this country in this time of change, it's Hermione Granger. Malfoy" Zabini amended. 

Draco hadn't considered that. In fact, he hadn't wanted to consider it.  
So what if she had an opinion and seemed to understand extremely well the subject that had been dragging on his workload for the past few weeks? Surely their opinions would be contrary anyway.  

"You two haven't talked about it? With the legislature about to start, I thought-" 

"I don't talk to her, Theo. Period." 

The two exchanged glances but didn't comment in, annoying Draco. 

"What?" 

"Why were you so upset about us talking to her, Draco? Even before your little outburst just now, you barely talked to the girls so much you were paying attention to our end of the table" Blaise asked. 

"Because I didn't expect you guys to talk to her! I don't talk! My mother doesn't talk! I was just shocked, that's all"  

Draco turned over all the rest of the firewhiskey and ordered more, filling his glass to the brim.
What the fuck did they think they were doing, being chummy with her. She was his wife! His property. Only he could touch her.
When Blaise gave her his arm to go to the blue lounge after dinner Draco could do so, he wanted to growl at his friend.  

And he suddenly remembered: 
“You wanked to her!” He blurted, out of nowhere. 

Again, the two friends looked at him like he was crazy. 

“The photo! You used her photo!” he accused them both. 

Theo lowered his eyes, embarrassed, but Blaise laughed. 

“Malfoy, the whole of Hogwarts used that photo. Merlin, that was ages ago, I didn't even remembered that! We were a bunch of horny teenagers. And now that you mention it, I remember that you went psycho about that photo.You kept it for days, and never wanted to gave it back!" 

"True! He had it for weeks."  

"That's why we stopped handing it to him, remember?" 

"What do you mean you stopped handing it to me? What about the story that someone lost it?" 

"We made it up, mate. The guys at Ravenclaw were pissed off because it stayed with us too long, because of you. You wouldn't give it back for nothing, we had to go to your desk and get it!" 

It was Draco's turn to be embarrassed.  

"Yeah, but what happened to it? I don't want a picture of my wife going around!" 

Blaise laughed again. "Draco, it was an innocent photo! We were the ones who were a bunch of clueless teenagers. She was wearing some cleavage and her breasts swayed a little, that's all." 

"Those are- you know, it doesn't matter." He said in frustration, running his hand through his hair "Does your proposal stand? Are we going to Italy tomorrow ?"  

That was why they had come, Draco reminded himself.  
He was supposed to help Blaise sell his larger villa in Italy to invest in business in England, and there was a meeting with potential buyers tomorrow.  
The three of them would take a portkey and not return until the next day. 

"Sure. Did you find anything about the buyers?” 

“ Yes, I had my solicitor investigate the family, and they seem clean. Parents and an heiress, purebloods, Italians and Austrian. Wanted to fix residence in Italy. Is that it?" 

Blaise nodded.  

"Fine. If all goes smoothly we'll draft the contract tomorrow and already sign it the next day."  

"Looking forward to coming home, Draco? We noticed you haven't spent the night in London since you got married" 

"Fuck off, Nott" Draco's cheeks flushed, and he turned another glass of firewhiskey.

Hermione 
 
Hermione woke in the middle of the dawn, with Draco drunkenly entering her room. 

He was in his day clothes, and threw himself on her bed, smelling of alcohol and tobacco.  
He did nothing to initiate sex, however, just hugged her and put his face into her neck.  
So she continued with her eyes closed, waiting for sleep to return.  

"Hermione" he slurred, nuzzling her neck. "Mine. Just mine" he repeated, and squeezed her tight.  

She opened her eyes, heart racing, but he was already asleep, snoring loudly near her ear.

Chapter Text

When Hermione woke up the other day, Draco was no longer in her room, which was unusual.
 
But the whole night had been unusual, she thought.  
The way he had held Hermione, clinging to her, almost crushing her against himself and telling her she was his...  

Her heart gave a leap just remembering it.  

He was clearly drunk, something she hadn't seen since they'd moved in together. 
Could it be that the alcohol had lowered his barriers?  

Over breakfast - from which all three men were absent - she caught herself seriously considering purposely getting her husband drunk, to see if he would open up to her and explain what he had meant yesterday.

While she has lost in her thoughts, Daphne and Astoria were loudly planning a picnic for lunch:   

"I just love Wiltshire at this time of year! Let's go see the ancient ruins and set up a picnic, I'm sure Draco will join us, he loves that place!" Astoria almost screamed.  

Hermione wanted to say that she didn't have to do that. It was just the four of them, and the sound travelled well in the room.  
She was certainly listening. 

As the two sisters left to change for the day, Narcisa turned to her daughter-in-law. 

"Would you like that, Hermione? To go to the picnic?" 

She was startled by the question, since Narcisa rarely addressed her, even more so to ask something about Hermione's will. But seeing no reason to do otherwise, she answered honestly. 

"Not particularly. I mean, I don't know Wiltshire beyond the manor, and I heard the mention of ruins and historical sites. I love history and I really wanted to go, but it's not like I can just drop everything to do so. Wendy and I have to finish organising the donations we'll be making for the early autumn, and it looks like the irrigation in the gardens is faulty. I need to fix it today, before the weather gets worse”.

Narcisa opened her mouth to reply when Draco entered the room.  

"Mother. Hermione. Where are the girls?"  

"Your girls are planning a picnic for you at lunch, Draco. You should find her in the kitchens" she said, without lifting her eyes from her tea. 

"I am not going to any picnic. I came to warn you, and please pass on the message, that Blaise, Theo and I will in a few minutes pick up a portkey to Italy, to sort out the sale of Blaise's villa. We should be back by tomorrow."  

He said the sentence generically, to both of them, but all the while he did not avert his eyes from Hermione, who then met his gaze and nodded.    

They spent a few moments staring at each other, until he suddenly turned and left the room. 

Hermione once again, like many times over the past few days, felt Narcisa's gaze on her.

Draco

"Draco! Draco, I'm glad I caught you!"
Astoria was running after him in the corridor. 

"Not now, Tori. The boys and I have a portkey to Italy. We'll talk tomorrow."  

He was not with the patience to deal with Astoria at that moment. 
He respected the witch, of course. She was from an important family, had been suggested to him for marriage, and he had slept with her more times than he could count. 

But that didn't mean he particularly liked her.  
Sure, she was a perfectly proper and polite witch.  
Beautiful and elegant.   

But Merlin, her interests.  
Her lack of depth of character.  
The lack of strength.  
The insipidity of her as a whole. No, she wasn’t a company he particularly enjoyed having. 

"But Draco, I'll be quick. It's really important, I swear!” She insisted.

He sighed. It's not like he could just snub a guest anyway.  
“Okay" he said, signalling for them to go into his study to talk. 

As soon as they sat down, she looked shy and didn't say anything.

"Tori, I don't have much time" he was already losing his patience with the witch. 

"I know, Draco, I know. But it's… is just so hard!” Astoria said, and Draco noticed she looked about to cry. 

"What's wrong?" He really was going to be late now, Draco thought, looking at his watch. 

"It's your mother, Draco" 

That caught his attention: "My mother? What's happened to her?" 

"Do you realize what the presence of that… that fetid witch is doing to Narcisa?” 

"Hermione?” Draco raised his eyebrows, confused “What are you talking about?" 
 
Frankly, his mother didn't seem too affected by Hermione's presence.  
From what Draco observed, Narcisa spent her day reading, writing and answering letters, and tending to her gardens. It seemed an existence well suited for her, calm and serene. 
The lack of the workload seemed to be doing his mother good.   
And, as the house was running perfectly, he concluded that Hermione was performing her duties accordingly. 

Astoria looked disgusted. "Hermione. I know you had to marry her, Draco, but you may refer to her between us as she deserves. It's just us here, you don't need to pretend to be courteous to her! That… that low whore doesn't deserve to be by your side, and the consequence of her selfish and brazen actions is that your mother is suffering!" 
 
Narcisa looked good to him. Healthy even.  
She didn't seem to be suffering, but she always hid her problems so as not to worry Draco.  
What if she was doing that again?   
She had known Astoria and Daphne for years, had been friends with their mother.  
Had his mother decided to confided in them? 

"What do you mean? Did my mother say something to you?" 
 
Astoria scoffed. "She doesn't need to, I know Narcisa! Your mother raised appropriately, like me. She will always be stoic, she would never open her heart, for fear of increasing your burden even more, Draco”.  

She took a deep breath, calming herself, before continuing: 

“Who do you think planned our stay, Draco? With my favourite dishes and the wine Theo loves?" 

He thought about it. Indeed, Hermione couldn’t know this things: "My mother." 

"But it shouldn't be your mother, should it? It should be your wife. Who sits at the head and presides  the table, laughing and taking credit for all the work your mother spends her day doing. And Narcisa can't say a word: she keeps overworking as always, while that tramp does nothing all day. Only now who takes the credit is that usurper! It's breaking your mother heart, Draco." 

He pondered the matter. On the one hand, Granger seemed busy with matters of the manor and society when she saw her during the day. It didn't seem like his mother was doing all the work. In fact, Narcisa seemed to be reading and relaxing more and more lately.
On the other hand, Granger didn't know they were really coming, and he recognised his mother's touches on the menu.   

Were they both pretending to him? Hermione to take advantage of his mother and spend her life doing nothing at all, escaping from her rightful duties, and Narcisa putting up with it and also pretending, but to protect him?  
Draco really didn’t know what to thing, and in just some minutes the key would leave, with or without him.

"I don't have time for that right now, Astoria. And it's not like I can kick my lawful wife off the head of the table. What do you suggest I do?"  

"Nothing so drastic, dear. Everyone knows you have perfect decorum and behaviour. Just something symbolic, something to show your mother that she is valued as the rightful Lady of the manor." 

Draco nodded, contemplative. That made sense.  
Hermione was really stretching her neck more than she should have, talking to Blaise and Theo, his friends, as if they were hers.
And she indeed hadn't done her job with the preparations for the guests’ arrival .   

The witch must have thought she could spread her legs for him at night and do nothing else all day, besides flirt with his friends. 

"I'll sort it out as soon as I get back, Tori" he said. And he indeed intended to do it.

"Good Draco. Always remember it's not your fault, dear. You were forced into this situation. You should and can do as you please to manage to live in this horrible situation." 

He nodded, contemplative, and left the room, receiving a flashing smile from Astoria before closing the door. 

Hermione  

Without the wizards’ presence in the Manor, Hermione - thanks to Merlin - didn't see much of the Grengrasses for the next two days.
   
They actually went to that picnic, or wherever the devil had taken them, for lunch, and at dinner the two chatted with Narcisa and ignored her, who was grateful for the opportunity to work on her book notes. 

The same happened in the next day's three meals, and between this the sisters spent their day in the pool. 
The only oddity throughout the day was Narcisa stopping her in the middle of the afternoon to inform her of this, out of the blue. 

Hermione was in her study, planning a tea for the ‘Wives of the Court members'’ club. She was unlucky enough to be drawn between said wives to organise the thing without having ever even attended such an event, and wonderer if her mother-in-law did not have a finger behind her misfortune when the witch herself walked in. 

"Narcisa. Can I help you?" 

Her mother-in-law looked at her and without sitting down said "Astoria and Daphne are in the pool." 

Hermione frowned, "Hun, okay. Today is kind of cold for the summer, and even with the magic boiler running the water must be freezing. They'll end up catching a cold." She said, returning for the seating arrangements for the event. 
She barely know the witches! How in hell could she know who should sit with who? 
That’s why she hated this kind of thing.  
If only she could be the man of the couple; if she could be the one spend the day debating and creating and voting laws, that would be wonderful.
It would be a dream come true.
It would be something she once saw herself doing after Hogwarts, something good.  
Relevant.  
She would be helping to change magical society for the better!  

But instead, she was over there, tending to table arrangements! Narcisa’s voice interrupted her thoughts:

"Have you used our pool yet, Hermione?" She asked back. 

Hermione gave a humourless laugh "Hardly. I haven't had much free time since I got here, you know." 

Her mother-in-law looked at her as if she was too difficult a problem to solve and stormed out of the studio, without saying anything else. 

By the end of the day following the men depart, Hermione imagined Draco would be back anytime.
But when dinner time came, and there’s no sign of them, she lost her hope.

Things in Italy must be more difficult than he imagined.  
She was so used to his warm presence, embracing in her bed every night, that one more without him would be extremely difficult.    

And she wanted to talk to him about that last night so badly.  
So much! 
She caught herself daydreaming during that days, wondering how he would arrive. Would he look at her longingly, like the morning before he left?  

Would he say again that she belonged to him, in that affectionate way that had made her heart totally melt? 

Contrary to the expectations she had when she arrived here, Hermione was looking forward to her husband's return. 

The way things were going between them...maybe keeping her promise to Ginny would be easier than she had anticipated. 

Maybe she could actually be happy in this new life of hers! 

The wizards returned only on Thursday, the penultimate day of the slytherins stay, since they would return to London by the next Saturday.  
They arrived, visibly tired, in the middle of dinner.    

Hermione cracked a giant smile at the three of them as they entered, but only Blaise and Theo reciprocated, taking their seats beside her, friendly as ever. 

Draco didn't even look in her direction. 
He did not even acknowledge her presence as he greeted his mother and the Grengrass sisters.

Hermione spent the dinner asking Blaise and Theo about their stay in Italy, listening to the details about the takeover.  
Unlike the other night, however, Draco wasn't even looking at the corner of the table she was at.  
He was quiet, visibly moody, and Astoria didn't seem to be helping, talking in whispers in his ear.  

Dinner was almost over when Draco raised his voice, automatically shutting up the whole table. 

"Mother, the boys and I are tired. It's been a long day, and I want to go straight to bed. Before I do, however, I want you to accompany me to my office, I have a document prepared for you to sign, stopping the succession of the family jewels on you." 

Hermione felt her face heat up as all eyes at the table turned to her.
She sipped her wine quietly and resumed her conversation with Theo, as if nothing had occurred. 
But internally she was fuming. 
The gall of the wizard, she thought to herself, while laughing at a silly joke she was sure Theo had only told to distract her from her husband's humiliating speech.   

She couldn't care less for the family jewellery, he could shove them in his ass for all that she care, but him doing this in front of everyone was humiliating.  
Outrageous. 
And it was done purposely to diminish her.  

She didn't understand. Their last contacts had filled her with hope, and now this?  
What was happening to him?    

She ran her eyes across the table, and looking at a clearly satisfied Astoria, who now was smiling into her wine glass, Hermione was overcome with suspicion. 

What had the witch done? 

What had Astoria told him? 

She finished her dinner, chatting with her tablemates as if nothing had happened.
And once the dinner was over,  given her husband's warning, she went straight to her room.  

Hermione tidied herself up, furious.
If he came to her tonight, she would get some answers from him before anything else!  

As time went by, however, Draco didn't show up.  
And she decided to go to sleep, hoping that the departure of the guests would give her a better chance to talk to her husband and understand what the hell was happening with him! 

Chapter Text

Hermione woke up alone in her bed. 

She knew Draco hadn't come, of course, but she had been hoping he would sneak into her bed again, in the early hours of the morning.  

But that didn't happen. 

Now, in the light of day, the anger she felt for her husband gave way to sadness.  

What was happening?  
Why hadn't he come, why had he been deliberately cruel to her at dinner? 

When she went downstairs for breakfast and found no one else there, the loneliness hit hard.  Fighting the feeling of abandonment she felt, Hermione finished her meal and went to her studio, ready to start the day.

But when she opened the door, she saw that the room was already occupied: a stressed Narcisa Malfoy, wringing her hands, was waiting for her on one of the armchairs, and stood up suddenly when she entered. 

"Hermione. I need to talk to you." 

"Narcisa! Are you all right? You are visibly shaken! Has something happened?" 

The witch let out a desperate laugh, tears in her eyes.  

"And you still care about me! After my atrocious behaviour towards you!" 

That surprised her even more than the presence of the witch there. “Narcisa. What are you talking about?" 

Her mother-in-law took Hermione hands and pulled her over to the chairs in front of the desk, sitting in one and making her sit in another.  

"Hermione. You must have realized that I didn't welcome you with open arms into our family. Can you imagine why?" 

Seeing no reason to hold her tongue, Hermione spoke, "Why, because of my blood, of course." 

Narcisa looked at her seriously and nodded, "that would make sense, wouldn't it? We've just fought a war on opposite sides. But this purist thing was more of a family obligation to me than anything else. My problem, Hermione, was not with your blood, but with my son's happiness”.

“You may have noticed that Draco is more important to me than any purist precept; I made that clear when I lied to the Dark Lord's face for him. And if Draco chose you, or any other muggleborn, or half-blood witch, wholeheartedly, I would never have a problem with him . My problem was with the lack of choice”.  
 
“You see, Hermione, at first I was not against the union. I felt sad for you, of course. And of course I didn't want my only child to bond with anyone out of obligation, in some obscure and ancient ritual. But the thing is, Draco's always had a… thing, I would say, towards you. A tendency to always complain in his letters about you outdoing him, or to always notice you - even if ostensibly this was to find fault. So I thought that maybe, even if it was not voluntary, the union could work out. I was hopeful, albeit concerned- for the both of you. You two were victims of the circumstances. But that was only until..." 

She fell silent, but Hermione already knew the answer. 

"Until the Grengrasses showed up?" She guessed. 

"Yes" Narcisa said, head down. "I didn't lie to you when I said Astoria and Draco were promised. When she was born, her father sought Lucius wanting to enter into a contract. But Lucius would prefer a more influential family, if possible, and left the contract conditional on Draco's later acceptance” 
“It was a shock for Astoria when she found out about your marriage. You shattered her dreams. Not intentionally, I know now. But that's not what she told me”. 

“She told me you weren't the selfless witch everyone preached about, but an extremely intelligent, power-hungry woman who'd been around forever.  
She even brought to me clippings of Skeeter's articles from the Triwizard  tournament, and told me that you went back and forth between Potter and Krum, depending on who was leading the scores.
She told me that after that you dated Potter for years, until you lost him to Ginervra Weasley. Since I saw the two of you together several times over the years, it seemed true. And she told me that when you lost Potter, you tried to be with Weasley, the other war hero, but that he got away from your clutches too”.
“So you, being the clever witch that everyone knows you are, and  who has run out of options, not wanting to finish Hogwarts without a famous husband to boost your status and power, looked for the best option on the losing side and pretended to be fragile, luring Draco into a trap of an inescapable marriage."

She looked at Narcisa in astonishment:  “That’s a load of bullshit" 

"Language, Hermione" Narcisa admonished her, smiling, as she had seen the witch do to Draco other times. 

"The thing is, you didn't act like a power-hungry witch. You took on each and every task I threw in your way, no matter how difficult, to the point where you didn't have time to even leave the mansion. You were perfect at everything, you learned everything, without ever failing or complaining. And, earlier this month when you told me you didn't want this position I didn't believe it. I still thought it was just an act on your part. But when you told me about the book you wrote, I really understood that you didn't want to be here. You  wanted another life, and used the little time you have in this one to get a glimpse of what you really wanted”.   
 
Hermione thought the witch would go hoarse from talking so much, but Narcisa wasn't finished yet:

“That didn't make sense with anything Astoria was saying, seconded by Daphne. Someone had to be lying. I needed help, I needed an unbiased opinion.
So I wrote to Andromeda." 

Hermione was sure her surprise was evident in her face; Narcissa and Andromeda Black hadn't spoken to each other since the latter's marriage, over twenty years ago. 

"No matter what happened between us, I knew that Andy would tell me the truth. And so I wrote a thorough letter, with all the information about you passed on by the Grengrass girls. Andromeda answered me with an equally informative letter, refuting Astoria's narrative point by point.  But when the letter arrived they were already here, before I could talk to you, so I used the opportunity to see their behavior without the bias of prejudice for the first time.
And their behaviour! Disrespecting the Lady of the Manor, throwing themselves on a married man. And yesterday" she breathed "last night Astoria shattered any image of respectability she might have had. Yesterday, she went to Draco's room, and waited for him in his bed, naked. Apparently they had a carnal relationship before your union, and she hoped to seduce him again, despite the fact that he is now married!”   
 
Narcisa should have interpreted the expression on her face correctly, because she shook his hand and hurried to clarify: “ You can rest assured, Hermione. Draco kicked her out of the room on the spot, and she and Daphne left the mansion minutes later. Blaise and Theo left as well. Theo is engaged to Daphne for now, but I don't think the situation will last long. He isn’t satisfied, and only stayed with Daphne because he needs to get married before his next birthday, but I think he'd rather find someone else than stay with her, who supported sabotaging the matrimony of one of his best friends." 

"I-I didn't hear any of that!" 

"I know Hermione. Draco froze Astoria and threw her down the hall before she could move, knocking on Theo's room so that Daphne would go and rescue her sister. After that he went to one of the guest rooms. But the point, Hermione, is that I have been unfair to you. I allowed myself to be deceived, I believed everything without even knowing you properly; without hearing your side! You've been a perfect wife, a perfect Lady Malfoy. Now I not just  understand how hard you work to get along with Draco, and with this life you never wanted, but I am also extremely grateful to you for that. And I hope someday you find it. In your heart to forgive me” she finished, lowering her eyes. 

Hermione smiled, relieved by the olive branch. "Of course, Narcisa. There is nothing to forgive. You only wanted to protect your son. There was no ill intent at all."
Her mother-in-law returned the smile "You are very kind. You always have been. From the beginning, it was very hard to have to hate you!” Narcisa said, and started to cry copiously.  
  
Hermione rose from her armchair, walked over to Narcisa and hugged the witch, comforting her as best she could:  "I know. I'm very pushy when I want people to like me. I practically forced Harry and Ron to be my friends from the start!". 

Narcisa, tearfully, laughed through her nose, and Hermione couldn't help admonishing her mother-in-law, still in her embrace:

"Why, Narcisa, that was not ladylike at all!" She said, in her best posh voice. 

The witch laughed, and Hermione called Wendy over and ordered tea for the two of them.  

When her mother-in-law seemed calm enough, Hermione released her, returned to her seat and raised the question that hadn't left her mind since the beginning of the conversation: 

"Narcisa, I really appreciate that you have sought to know the truth about me, and I am very grateful for the opportunity for the two of us to get along, but for this very reason you have to know... Draco doesn't have a thing for me. Not a soft spot or anything like that..." 

It was her turn to get shy, lowering  her head. 

"No?" Came Narcisa’s voice, amused. "Are you sure?" 

"Positive" she said, raising her head. "I even thought, a few days ago, that he had developed some sort of… I don’t know, maybe affection? Toward me, but it seems I was wrong." 

She looked at her mother-in-law, half expecting Narcisa to contradict her, but her mother-in-law just shook her head, amused. 

"If you say so. I guess only time can tell how your feelings will turn out. But I stand by what I said: Draco has always been fascinated by you."  

Hermione felt herself blushing, and averted her eyes only for a few moments before meeting her mother-in-law's amused gaze again.  
And just like that, suddenly amused, they both fell into laughter.  

After that conversation, her relationship with her mother-in-law changed completely.  
Narcisa made an effort to talk to Hermione, to get to know her at every opportunity.  
She also took over some of Hermione’s tasks, and delegated others to elves, lessening the workload so her could at least work on her books a little more.

Draco, however, was another story. Since the dinner where he had thrown it in her face that she didn't deserve the family jewels, she hadn't seen her husband anymore.  
Narcisa said that, on the morning of the Grengrass fall - as Hermione begun to call that dawn -, he had left early and gone to the family home in London, to prepare there for the opening of Court with some expert professors and solicitors. 

But that was a fortnight ago! 

She hated to admit it, but she was missing him. Their routine, at least in bed, had settled so easily, and missing it was hard. But he had more obligations in his life than just shagg her, and her recent friendship with Narcisa was more than enough reason for her to feel happy.

Chapter Text

“Hermione!" Narcisa took her eyes off the letter she was reading, excitedly, as she saw her daughter-in-law enter the green room in early September night "You were right: Andromeda really has forgiven me." 

"I told you!" She said, laughing at her mother-in-law's incredulity.  "She wouldn't have been corresponding with you for weeks if that wasn't the case" 

"Yes, but this is serious! Listen: she asked me to help her decorate her and Teddy's new house!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, amused. Of course Narcisa would understand an invitation to decorate a house as more meaningful than a stated forgiveness.  

But she needed to recognize the significance of the act. Andromeda asking Narcisa for help was a wonderful why to mend the relationship between the sisters. 

"You will do it, right?" 

"I want to, dear, but it's going to take weeks. I'm not leaving you alone on your birthday." 

Neither of them commented that it would also be her and Draco's first anniversary.   
And that her husband hadn't been home for weeks.

"I know you don't want a party, but I thought we could have a dinner. Maybe invite Andromeda. And invite your friends; I'm sure Draco would take a break from his preparatory sessions and-“    

Hermione raised her hand, interrupting “Narcisa, please. I know how important this bridge with Andromeda is to you. You go, help her and organize my birthday there. I'll join you there to celebrate on the day. Agreed?" 

Her mother-in-law looked torn. 

"But I didn't want to leave you here alone, Hermione. You have so many responsibilities, and you'll be alone in this huge house..." 

"Please, Narcisa. You know I barely have time to feel alone. I will feel guilty if you miss the opportunity of bonding with your sister because of me. Go!" She smiled, encouraging the older witch. 

"Really?" Narcisa eyes sparkled. 

"Really!" 

"I'd better get my bags ready then, they're expecting me later today!" Her mother-in-law stood up excitedly, her eyes sparkling, and Hermione knew she had made the right decision in encouraging her to go.  

Narcisa corresponded with her daily, and Hermione in fact barely had time to feel lonely.  
But in the little time she had to herself, she did fell depressed.   

Abandoned, taking care of that huge, high-maintenance house for a husband too busy to come back to her. 
Until one night, two weeks after Narcisa's departure, and with last than one to go until her birthday. Hermione went  to the kitchen for dinner - where she'd started making meals, since she'd been alone and the elves made her company while she eat - just to find Draco coming out of a fireplace in the main hall.
They stopped, staring at each other. 

"Are you back!” She spoke automatically, without thinking, smiling. 

He shook his head “Not for long. The official sessions start tomorrow and I forgot my signet here. I'm just going to stay overnight, and tomorrow I leave as early as possible”.  
He spoke without emotion, without any expression on his face, and already started walking, dismissing her.
 
But she stopped him, holding his arm. 

He looked at her with barely disguised anger and shook off the grip, pulling his arm hard, as if her touch was harmful, repellent.   

Hermione flinched, as if she had been slapped, but still had the courage to speak: 

"Do you need to? You can go directly from here to the Ministry every day, there’s no need to stay in London. As a member of the Court one of our fireplaces can be formally attached to the ministry so that you can Floo direct e-" 

"I want to stay in London, Hermione. It is easier for me to make the contacts I need to make. In a few months I should be able to get back to the manor. I know you're ignorant about the dynamics of noble families, but that's how things work." 

She nodded, understanding, and made her way to the kitchens, with him making his way to the personal studio without turning back. 

Hermione didn't want to wait for him to come that night, but she was anxious all the same.    

She prepared herself neatly, putting on a negligee that he seemed to favour, and spending a good deal of time tidying up her hair until the curls were shiny and loose.  

He loved her hair, holding, playing and smelling it all the time when they were together, she reminded herself, smiling.  
 
She stood there, on her dressing table, and waited.
And waited, and waited. And when he didn't show up, she lay in bed in her black negligee and fought back tears, falling into a deep and tired sleep.

She was asleep when, in the middle of the night, the connecting door opened, waking her. 

She turned and lifted her head, sleepily, and saw Draco Malfoy finally, after weeks, entering her room. 
She tried to turn her body towards him as soon as he got into bed, bit he stopped her movements and turned her in her previous position, with her back to him.

In that position, hugging her from behind and without any preface, Draco pulled her neglige up, her knickers to the side, licked a finger and slipped it into her cunt, preparing her. 

She found it odd.  
Cold.  
Lacking the warmth, the passion that always marked their encounters in bed.  
He didn’t touch her, didn’t kiss her, barely looked at her!
 But it had been so long since they'd were together that she showed no resistance at all, and before long she was fucking herself in his hand, and he taking his hand away and shoving his cock inside her.  

He fucked her from behind in a fast pace, one hand holding her hips in place.  
Just holding, not squeezing or marking as he did before. 

She used her own hand to stimulate her clit until she came. It didn’t take long, after so long without sex. 

He followed her quickly, emptying himself inside her without a sound, and as soon as he was done he got out of bed and left, slamming the door. 

She stood there in bed, physically satisfied and completely confused.  
 
They had never shagged this way. From day one, they had been passionate. Wild.

And today, she had given herself  and screamed and loved, surrendering to the pleasure.

But he hadn't.  
He remained as detached as possible.  
 
It was how she imagined their first time would be, totally without passion.
He'd probably only come for the bond, she thought, bitterly. 
She hadn't felt any symptoms affecting her magic, even with the weeks apart, but maybe he had... 

Why had he stopped wanting her? What had she done? 
Was she no longer enough to attract him?  
Had the newness that she represented already passed, and Draco would never be attracted to her again? 

Was she never going to feel wanted by him again, and wake up in the warmth of his arms, with him sighing contentedly?  
Merlin, she lived for those nights and those mornings!  

What had happened?  
What had she done wrong?  
The only successful part of their marriage had turned to dust! 

She cried herself to sleep.

Chapter Text

Draco was hurriedly eating breakfast. He needed to get back to London, the session would start in a few hours, but he wanted to make sure his Mother was okay first, and was waiting for her. 

When Hermione walked in, he barely waited for her to sit in her chair before asking. 

"My mother. Where is she?" 

She looked at him, confused "I'm sure she wrote to you informing that she would be with your aunt, Andromeda, for a few weeks" 

"Indeed” Draco agreed. Only he hadn't believed her.   

She had written countless letters asking him to come home, to stay at the mansion, or spend a few days at least, saying that he was prepared enough.  

So, when Narcisa asked him to come home because Hermione would be alone, as she was going to her sister's house, he thought it was a false threat.   

They didn't correspond much after that. 

And that meant Granger would indeed be alone at the mansion. 
He wasn't a person much inclined to guilt, but after using so much occlumency last night his shields were thin.  
He could throw her a bone. 

"Hermione. Your birthday is next week, correct?" 

She nodded, startled.   

"Neither my mother nor I will be here. Why don't you pick up your Weasley friend and you two spend the week at our chateau in France?" 

She looked at him as if he spoke Greek. 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"Take the week off. Go have fun with your friend. I read somewhere that Potter is in auror training abroad, you can keep each other company that way." 

"Ginny has a job. And I can't leave the house like this-" 

"Ginervra Weasley plays quidditch and the season hasn't started yet. I'm sure she can get a week off with her coach. And the house won't fall apart if you're away for a week, Hermione. You can continue to run it, at the very least, by owl." 

Her eyes twinkled "And you don't mind if I use the family chateau?” 

He rolled his eyes, impatient "You're a Malfoy, Hermione. Use the bloody castle". 

"Thank you, Draco!”  

She looked at him as if he had done something special, and not just given a bloody suggestion!  
She tried to hold his gaze, smiling at him, but he quickly diverted his eyes to The Prophet.  

"It's just a trip, Hermione. I bet even you've done a few of those before"    

And Draco  closed the walls around any thoughts involving her, so he wouldn't have to think about how she would receive his response. 

Hermione
 

"So, what's it like? Being Lady Malfoy?" 

To Hermione's surprise, it had all worked out.  
Ginny had agreed to the trip, and had been able to take a leave from the team.  
Narcisa had excitedly helped to plan the trip.  
And now they were in a wonderful little castle in France, surrounded by all the chocolate and wine she could want, with one of her favourite people in the world. 

"Can we talk about something else, Ginny? I rather not get into the details right now. I don't want to spoil the mood on the very first day." 

"Merlin, just a few months and you're already all posh. Look at the way you're talking, you cow. ‘I'd rather not get into the details’-“ 

Hermione hit her with a strawberry. 

"Hey! That's not a ladylike thing to do”. 

"Fuck off, Ginny." She said, laughing. 

"All right, all right. Just tell me this: Malfoy. How are you guys doing?" 

Hermione sighed. And turned her glass of wine over, refilling it before she began to speak. 

"I don't even know where to begin, Ginny".  
 
“Look, as cliché as it is, starting at the beginning is always a good idea. Seriously, Mione. Will you tell me everything? How are you two doing?”   

So, encouraged by her friend, Hermione talked. And talked, and talked.  
Of what he was like in bed.  
And how he was out of it.  
How he always woke up cuddled up to her, and how he'd disappeared after his friends had visited. Of how he'd drunk said she was his, and sober slapped her morally. 
Of what Narcisa had said, and his behavior in that night before the trip.   
She talked for what seemed like hours.  

Ginny listened quietly, without any comments. When Hermione finished, her friend take some time to thought, sipping her champagne and nibbling on chocolate covered strawberries. 
 
And Hermione got anxious: "What? You're quiet, so I know I'm not going to like what you're going to say".  

"No, I don't think I'm going to like saying that. Mione, look, I'm with Narcisa on this one. I think the ferret really likes you”. 

Hermione choked on her wine: 
"What? Of course not! Aren't you listening to me?" 

"I am, Mione. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but have you ever put yourself in his shoes? The git was taught from the cradle to hate you. He must think that giving in to you is a betrayal of his principles, and yet he spends every night with you. Sure, not after the visit, I know, but they must have filled the guy's head with pure-blooded drivel. So he walked away, right? But when he realised you'd be alone on your birthday he suggested you bring me - a person he hates - to the family holiday castle”. 

“I think you guys just need some time. Because all indications are, my friend, that he really likes you."
Ginny turned over the rest of her wine. 

"You really think so?" Hermione could feel the insecurity in her own voice, and Ginny noticed it too. 

"Oops, I think the question here is a different one. You like him, Mione!"  

"Me? Of course not! I just want a peaceful marriage, since he's in-"  

"Don't even start. I know you! And I remember your ‘fuck me’ eyes to him when I first arrived at school. You want the slimy ferret to like you! You're a ferret-lover!"

Feeling her face heating, Hermione threw a pillow over her friend's head to shut her up.

Over the next few days, relaxing with Ginny, she thought maybe her friend had a point.  

Draco really did seem to like her, at least in the physical sense of the thing - apart from last time, but that was an anomaly.

And he had been concerned for her well being, right? He was the one that suggested the trip and all!  
 
She would be patient and wait out the weeks he had to spend working in London. And once the load lessened and he came home, as promised, she would try to talk  to him. Maybe, if she started open up to him, he could do the same!

She was thinking about it while getting ready for dinner. It was the penultimate day of their short stay, and her birthday, so they’ll go to a restaurant highly recommended by Narcisa.  

Harry would join them for dinner and spend the night at the castle. The next day, when Hermione would return home, he would take Ginny for a week with him in Berlin, before they returned to London at the end of the month. 

It was great that Harry was coming to distract his beloved. Because, to be honest, Hermione was feeling like shit.   

She didn't want to spoil the mood for Ginny, who had come here for her, but since the second day she had been totally nauseous.  

Could it be that the bond had gotten used to her and Malfoy being together more often, and now couldn't handle even short periods of separation? 

She was looking at herself in her bedroom mirror when Ginny knocked on the door: 

"Shall we go, Mione? We're going to be late! Can you believe Harry's already there? We-" 

"Ginny, stop right there!" she held up her hand and closed her eyes. "By Merlin, don't take another step. What happened to your perfume?" 

"What? Why? Do I stink?"
Her friend began to sniff herself, anxious.
"No. I don’t know. Kind of? I told you not to use that fragrance, it's like a chocolate’s explosion! I'm getting dizzy with it. I'm going to do a spell of-" 

Ginny interrupted her with a yelp.
"Mione! MIONE! Lady Malfoy! You're pregnant!" 

"What?! I’m not!” 

"You've been feeling sick all week, I noticed it! And now you are super sensitive to smells. You're pregnant! Wait!" 

And she pulled her wand out of its holster and performed a complex spell that Hermione had never seen before, tracing circles on her abdomen. 

"There you go" Ginny said, sweating, as she put her wand away. “It’s a bit difficult but Harry and I have had so many pregnancy scares I'm used to it. It takes a few seconds to-" 

Just then, a golden light began to pulse in Hermione's belly, like a heartbeat. 

A tiny, rapid heartbeat. 

"I told you! Look, Mione! You're pregnant!" 

Hermione stared in astonishment at the light.  

"But how? I take potions regularly! I didn't try to get pregnant! I-“ 

"Potions fail, and weren't you the one who commented that this ancient ritual was reported to increase fertility, ensuring the existences of offspring or some shit like that?”  

Hermione nodded, amazed , staring at the small light until it was extinguished. 

"I'll teach you later. Now what?" 

"Now what?" She repeated, still shocked. Pregnant? 

"You are not going to run out and tell the ferret?I bet he'll lose his shit! And before you said anything, I'll be fine. I'll explain to Harry what happened, and he'll understand. Tomorrow we were going to leave anyway." 

"But Ginny" she said, with her hands on her stomach "what if Draco doesn't want the baby? He's half-blood, after all" 

Merlin, that maternal instinct thing was powerful indeed. She had discovered her pregnancy a second ago and already wanted to protect her child!  

Ginny scoffed. "You are underestimating the importance of babies in the traditional wizard community. There are so few that pureblood families are obsessed with having children. He'll be more than pleased to hear it, Hermione, I'm sure. And he already sort of expects his children to be half-blood, it wouldn't be news to him, right?” 

The idea sounded good. She was sure that any reservations Draco might have after the Grengrass visit would be mitigated by the news. Ginny was right, the old families loved the idea of pregnancies and babies to pass the family name.  “I think I'm really going to go, Ginny! You are sure you don’t mind?" 

"Not at all," her friend said, hugging her. "It's your birthday, you're in charge. And I ended up with dinner for two with my boyfriend and a night in a French castle. Highly romantic" she smiled. 

Ginny taught her to repeat the spell, and to hold a magical copy of the golden light in a small glass dome, so she could show Draco. 

The girl then left for dinner, and Hermione anxiously called an elf to dispatch her things to the mansion before she left for London, to give Draco the news.  

Hermione had never been in the London house, but she knew they called it the Malfoy TownHouse. That would do for apparition, and she would be able to get through the protective wards, since with marriage she had free entry to the family properties. 

The problem was that she was feeling ill, weak, and appearing in that state, to another country and pregnant, was an arduous task for her mother.  

Not that it was risky for the baby. The problem was that her body would use all its energies, instinctively, to protect the fetus. She would be weak for several hours after apparating. 

But that was irrelevant at the moment: she could get a good night's sleep after telling Draco the news. Who knows, maybe even a night nestled in his strong arms.  

She could already imagine him opening that smile, which she remembered seeing only a few times, and always from a distance, in her direction.  

Maybe he would lift, hug and kiss her, so happy with the surprise! 

Even if she didn't know how she felt about it yet, she new that change could be the bridge they needed to fully understand each other. 
 
It was with this thought in mind that she bade a cheerful and animated farewell to the elves of the castle, and turned around herself to apparate, keeping the Malfoy TownHouse in mind.   

Hermione appeared in front of an old house, clearly in a residential neighbourhood, and knew at the moment that she was in the right place: this was what she had expected when she went to the mansion.    

Not only was the house gloomy and grim, and had the Malfoy crest on the door, but it also looked a lot like Grimmaul Place. 

She smiled amused, and eagerly opened the door. That confirmed her hypothesis: being now a Malfoy she had access to the properties. The door opened easily at her touch. 

Hermione stepped into a gloomy, dimly lit hall, but barely took two steps into it when the weight of the apparation hit. She felt dizzy, weak, and fell to her knees on the floor. 

Before she could move an elf appeared, carrying the standard tea towel but also a sleeping cap. He looked at her curiously as she gasped and balanced, trying to got up, and leaning precariously on the wall to stand upright. 

"Hi. We haven't met in person yet, but I am the new Lady Malfoy, as you must know. I am not feeling very well at the moment, I wonder if you could prepare my room so I can rest?" 

The elf, still mute, just nodded and disappeared. Hermione took a few steps towards the staircase and leaned on a chair beside it, queasy and exhausted.  

She closed her eyes, trying to recover at least a little. She certainly wouldn't be able to talk to Draco tonight; the good news would have to wait until tomorrow.  If she tried to open her mouth right now, she might vomit on her husband.  

Hermione stood there, massaging her temples when a voice startled her: 

"I never imagined that you, from all the people, would have trouble with a simple apparition, Ms. Granger. Excuse me, Lady Malfoy." 

She raised her eyes, shocked to hear that voice, and saw a considerably large portrait of Severus Snape at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Professor. What are you doing here?" She spoke, weakly, fighting the nausea.  

"Your husband is my godson, Lady Malfoy. As I had no heirs, my possessions and portraits are his."
He stared at her, examining her.
"But I repeat. Did you feel bad for a simple apparation ?"   

As she merely stated, nodding, not trusting in her ability to speak at the moment, he continued running his eyes over her, until he noticed the enchanted little glass ball floating around her. 

"Ah, you're pregnant. You know, I always thought you had more sense than that. Apparating pregnant is a serious health risk for the mother, the energy is-" 

The scolding galvanised her will, and she used the rest of her strength to answer the portrait. 

"Drained to protect the baby. I know, professor. And I would love to continue this discussion in the morning, but right now I really need to rest."    

The bloody elf was taking too long! She felt like shit and needed to lie down, now. 
She decided to go up to the next floor and look for her room by herself. 

"Lady Malfoy, I don't think that's a good idea-" started Snape, but Hermione turned her back and left him talking to himself - something she would never do with the living Severus Snape - as she started to climb up the steps, supporting  her weight on the handrail.  

 After what felt like an eternity, she reached the first floor, and almost cried with despair at the sight of several identical doors arranged, closed, with no sign of which room was the right one. 

Hermione walked slowly down the corridor, dizzy and weak, trying to identify something that would help her determine the right room.  
She thought about opening all the doors, but it was already late and she didn't want to wake Draco by breaking into his room.  
It would be a terrible start to their conversation.   

Then Hermione heard muffled sounds from behind a door to her left, and deducing that the elves were causing the noise by tidying her room, she opened it…

To take the biggest surprise of her life. 

The room was heavily lit by candles, and had a giant bed in the middle.   

On it, a blonde witch was on all fours, her eyes closed with pleasure, while Hermione’s husband was behind her, pulling the witch's hair and fucking her from behind, hard, passionately, his eyes closed with pleasure.

Hermione was so shocked that the magic that held the little glass ball levitating beside her ceased, causing it to fall and shatter at her feet.   

The sound caused the two lovers to raise their eyes to the door, and Hermione saw the look of hatred on her husband's face before she turned and hurried down the stairs, a weight on her chest and her heart hopelessly broken.

Chapter Text

Draco was anxious.  

Today he would finally get to fuck Irina to, after weeks of waiting! 

When he had met her in Italy, he had been enchanted.    

He had arrived at the family home - in which they would be staying - in a terrible mood.  

The conversation with Astoria couldn't get out of his head. She had pointed out how Draco had no choice in being in that farce of a marriage, but over how he behaved Draco had control. 

And he was behaving badly. Terribly badly.  
Not not noticing his mother's possible suffering, soiling his father's memory.  

Draco was furious with himself when the couple welcomed them. He barely remembered the first words exchanged with the couple, 
and then she walked in: the heiress. 

And she was gorgeous.  
Curly blonde hair, dark eyes, perfectly sculpted body.
Pureblood.  
Cultured.  
Educated.  
Sinful dressed. 

And she hadn't taken her eyes off him since their first meeting.  

That first night in Italy, over dinner, she sat across from him, and he could have sworn she moved especially so his eyes wouldn't wander from her cleavage, so deep he could almost see her nipples. 

Not that she was vulgar. She just dripped sensuality in an elegant way.
On the second day, she sat next to him at lunch and rubbed her leg against his while they talked about Austrian pureblood traditions.  

By the next dinner, when she asked permission to go to the bathroom looking directly at him, Draco didn't even hesitate before he follow her, snogging her in the corridor until they heard footsteps and hurriedly parted.  

After thar he took every opportunity to kiss, suck, bite and snog the witch in empty rooms and corridors. 

On the third and final day, she passed a message to him in the final handshake. She would have to stay with her parents until the Villa’s transition was complete.But she had to go to London on business soon, and on a permanent basis. They could correspond until then, and when the time comes she could meet him in London, if he was interested.

And he was interested. Very interested.  

Draco returned from his trip with a plan formed.  
Before, he had basically surrendered to Hermione Granger. Simply because he liked to fuck her, he was slipping, dishonoring his parents and his family's traditions.
He was sleeping cuddled with her, for Salazar's sake! 

He needed to stop this. First, he would send a definitive message that she was nothing more to him than a nuisance.  
A wife of convenience. 

Second, he would henceforth only use occlumency in her presence. That way he would not be affected by her charms, and would remain the man he was raised to be.  

Third, he would find another woman - and here Irina fitted in perfectly - and only fuck Hermione  
wife when the bond called for it.  
And she couldn't even blame him for having a mistress. It was all her fault, after all! 

The anger he felt at Hermione when he met Irina was giant. There was a perfect wife! Beautiful, pureblood, intelligent, sexy. She could be his! If it wasn't for what the damned Hermione Jean sodding Granger had done, he could have that wife! 

In her place he was left with a plebeian, annoying muggleborn.   
He had every right to have other women! It was the least he could do! 

So it was easy to humiliate his wife with the jewellery issue to put her in her place, with his mind full of Irina and his occlumency shields up.

But even then. Even with the occlumency activated, even though he hated her, Draco couldn’t help himself. He wanted to meet her at night, wanted to be in her presence.  
It was easy to resist his wife when they were far apart, but having her this close, within his reach... he could feel his control slipping away. 

 It was his lucky that Astoria tried that ridiculous thing of waiting for him in bed, because he missed Granger so much that he would have sought out the witch if it hadn't been for that. 

So he left for London, to distance himself from her; to prevent himself from doing something stupid. 

And after that day, as soon as a mere thought about his wife crossed his mind, he shut it in his oclumency walls.  

He needed to focus: Hermione was a nuisance.  
An inconvenience.  
She was beneath him, in every way.  
He would move permanently to London, set up a discreet arrangement with Irina as soon as she arrived.
Nobody could blame him, he didn't even want to get married in the first place!

Draco spent weeks in the Townhouse, caged and moody. The only solace was the extremely naughty and explicit letters Irina sent him.  

When he needed to return to the mansion, Draco did so in hiding, at meal times, to avoid his wife. 

But the last time she had seen him, and focused on him, and his barriers almost fell right there. 

After that, Draco spent the next few hours in his room, meditating and occluding and doing everything not to think about his wife just a door away, to no avail.  
He needed her.   

He was a weakling, a traitor and a coward, because he couldn’t be away from her.  

So he decided to go to her, but in his terms; occluding all the time.    

He would have sex with her because he needed it, because his body and his head were missing her, were screaming for her, but his walls would be high the whole time. 

He remembered the effort it was. Having her there, soft, warm, wanton, moaning and wanting him, was to much, and he almost cracked.
Draco finished the thing as quickly as possible before he did something stupid, like going back to kissing and cuddling her. 

And now, finally, after fucking weeks of waiting, Irina Strasser would come to his house, to finally be his.
And he would kill all his sexual appetite with her.  
He would shagg her senseless, and fuck Hermione out of his system!
He held himself back from rubbing his hands together in anxiety. 

During his private, romantic dinner with Irina at his home, he noticed that her hair was identical to his wife's.  
Not in colour, but in shape.  
And the colour didn't look authentic anyway.  

The body was similar too. Curvaceous.  
Fit. 
Before he could examine the subject further, Draco closed his walls, locked Hermione in a box and threw it to the back of his mind.  

After dinner they headed for his bedroom, losing clothes he was vanishing along the way. When he finally pinned her in the bed, and touched, stroked, bit and licked her naked body, he realized something was wrong.  
Something was different.  
He couldn't concentrate on her.  

All the time his head was making comparisons. Granger moans were way more delicious. Her noises don't sound forced like that. She was always lost in pleasure, crazy like him, while Irina seemed to want to look like the perfect seductress all the time.... 

Draco scolded himself: he couldn't keep thinking like that. He turned the witch over on the bed, took her from behind and started to shag her this way, the way he couldn’t  see who he was fucking.  
When she started moaning those annoying sounds again, he slapped her ass hard and told her to shut up, which she did immediately.  

Granger would have moaned louder for the action. 

He closed the walls around her again and continued to fuck Irina, pulling her hair and arching her. That way she could be anyone. She could be his wife.  
Draco was suddenly invaded by memories of Hermione that he couldn’t contain anymore: 
Granger in that same position, meeting him thrust by thrust, begging for more, exploding around him…  he lost all control, hutting in Irina desperately. 

Until he heard a noise of something breaking, and raised his eyes, angered by the interruption, just to see his wife, his Hermione, with her face full of tears, turning and running out of the room. 

He pushed Irina aside, jumped out of bed and began searching desperately for his clothes. 

"Who was that, Drake?"  
Drake.  
He hated that nickname.   

Draco answered without even looking at her
"My wife. You need to leave. Now”. 

He finally found his fucking trousers and put them on, as quickly as possible. 

"But it's the middle of the night! I thought I'd be here until morning, I didn't even boo-“

Draco lost control and held the still motionless witch by the arm, lifting her off the bed. 

"Listen here, you silly bint. You will get the fuck out of my house right fucking now, or the elves will throw you out on the street. Do you understand?" 

She nodded, startled, and he turned and ran out, shirtless, barefoot,cutting his feet on the glass in the doorway and slamming the door. 

"Hermione! Hermione! HERMIONE!" 

He ran down the stairs, looking for her in desperation after storming in every fucking room in the fucking house, searching for the witch. 

He stopped at the end of the stairs and saw that the entrance hall empty. Desperate, Draco punched the wall, enraged, time after time, right next to the Severus’ portrait, who was looking at him. 

"Godfather! Did you see her! Did you see where she went?" 

"Who, Draco? Your wife? Or your mistress?" 

"Don't be daft! My wife, of course! Have you seen Hermione?" 

"Of course I did. I saw when she arrived and I saw when she left, running, crying in despair." 

Draco sat down on a step and ran his hands through his hair. 

"Where did she go? Do you know? Did you see?"  

"I'm a portrait, Draco. I don't move, you know. I just saw her walking out the door." 

Draco stared at him for a millisecond before rushing outside, half naked, his feet bleeding and shouting her name. 

He returned a couple of hours later, and threw himself into the same chair Hermione had occupied earlier. 

"What a fine way to announce your disgrace to the whole town, Draco. Going out screaming for her at night, in the dark. Congratulations" Severus mocked. 

"Shut up!" he shouted and stood up, heading towards the painting. "I need to find her! I need to explain!" He shouted, demented. 

"Explain what? That you replaced her with a Carbon-copy of poor quality but pure blood? I’ll I doubt she wants to hear that" the portrait replied, seriously, and Draco again punched and punched the wall, until his fingers bled, until his hand hurt.  

Until he could focus in anything but her suffering face. 

He tried and tried to put his mental shields back, but he couldn't make it. He couldn't block out the absurd anxiety he felt. 

"I'm going to my room to get dressed. After that, you will tell me exactly what you saw, and I will find my wife" he said, decided.  

"Good luck with that" snorted the portrait at his back, as he quickly climbed up the steps.

Chapter Text

When, in the first hour after dawn, Draco appeared on the steps of Grimmauld Place, he was sure Hermione would be there.  
Where else could she be? Harry fucking Potter was basically her only family, after all.

So, when Kreacher opened the door and bowed to his feet, but informed him that Master Harry was out of the country, Draco wanted to kick himself for having forgotten the fact. 

Still he asked the elf if he could come in to get quill and paper and write a message. He used the opportunity to search the entire house magically, since he had no doubts that Hermione could hide herself from him.  
But there was no one there.

The next step in his search was the Weasley house. He had never been to the Burrow before, but knowing the name was enough for him to be able to apparate close. 

He was greeted by a curious Mrs. Weasley, who asked in the spot if Hermione was alright, if anything had happened. 

The witch wasn't lying: the concern in her eyes was all too real. No, she didn't know about Hermione, and he gave a poor excuse about being in the area and deciding to check on her for his wife's sake, which Mrs Weasley surprisingly accepted. 

At the end of the day, he didn't know where else to go.  
Hermione had no family left. Her parents were in Australia, with no memory o her. She wasn’t with Potter. She wasn't with Molly Weasley. Where the hell was

"Draco! Draco!"  

He woke up with Theo shaking him. 
Shit.  
He had fallen asleep in the office. Again. 

"What, Theo?" He rubbed his eyes, tired.  

"Don't come with ‘what, Theo’ to me! You're missing sessions three days in a row, Draco!" 

"I'm busy, Theo" he replied, rubbing his eyes.  
  
He saw Theo running his eyes across his desk, before lifting one of the several empty bottles of whiskey that were there. 

"Drinking all this and sleeping in your office?! What's the matter with you? Got into a fight with Granger?" 

Draco seated up straight in his chair "It's Lady Malfoy for you!" 

He started his work again, pulling out a sheet full of calculations which Theo looked at for a few minutes.  

"Is that advanced arithmancy applied to divination? Why do you want that? You want to guess something?" 

"Kindly fuck off, Theo" he replied without saying even raising his eyes. 

Theo looked at his friend worriedly.
"Draco, you look like shit. From the looks and smell of you, you haven't left here in days. You do know that whatever it is, I can help you right?" 

Draco nodded distractedly, and Theo stood in silence for a few minutes before speaking. 

"I know this isn't the best time, but you've been kind of missing and I promised Daph I'd talk to you in Astoria's behalf. She's sorry, man. She's in love with you, and I guess she thought she could seduce you. I explained to her that even though you didn't choose marriage, you would never betray Granger. That's not who you are. She's sorry, and she want to still be your friend." 

Draco gave a cold laugh. If only Theo knew the truth. His friend looked at him curiously, but he just shook his head and went back to his calculations. 

"Can I tell her you guys are okay then? Is it water under the bridge?" Theo asked anxiously. 

Draco nodded, not paying much attention, and didn't even notice when his friend left. 

Two weeks had already passed like that, he reflected, tiredly, massaging his neck. He kept calculating and calculating, but nothing was working; he couldn't finalise a fucking formula that could define Hermione's position. 

He had to ask for help. Hire someone. Anything. Anything that help him to find her. It had been so long since she disappeared that Hermione could be on the other side of the world already.
  
He felt a tightness in his chest at the thought of it.
What if she ran so far away that he could never find her again? 
No, he thought. He would find a way.
Not just for the bond.Not because of the scandal it would be if she left him. But because he wanted to, he needed to explain it to her!  
 
His results were all wrong because he was rubbish at divination, Draco thought. His mother was good, though.  
Maybe he could ask for her help in a hypothetical way, without saying exactly-
Draco stood up in a leap! His mother! Of course!  

She was at Andromeda's house, right? Who was Granger's acquaintance, friend from the order!   

And Draco had disregarded that at the time, but it seemed that the last letters from his mother had reflected friendliness when referring to Hermione…  

What if she was there? With his mother and Andromeda? 

He hurried down the steps, and was already starting to spin in place when he remembered that he had no idea where his aunt lived or her house’s name. 

Draco knocked on the door of the Burrow for the second time in less than a month.  
This time, however, he was greeted by a suspicious Arthur Weasley, who didn't even invite him in. 

"Lord Malfoy. What can I do for you?" He said, looking around, probably searching for Hermione. 

"Mr. Weasley. I need the address of my aunt, Andromeda Tonks, if you Could be so kind ." 

"For what reason?" 

Draco gritted his teeth but forced himself to answer politely. 

"My mother has been spending a few weeks with her, and I need to talk to her. Personally" 

Arthur looked him up and down, staring at his dirty, crumpled shirt, his messy hair, his unshaven beard.  

"And why don't you ask your mother for the address by letter?" 

"Because it's an urgent matter, sir!" Draco wanted to tear his hair out. 

Arthur looked at him again before conjuring up a piece of paper with the address on it. Draco took the paper from the wizard’s hands and was striding away when he heard behind him. 

"Is Hermione alright, Lord Malfoy?" 

Draco turned to the wizard, and nodded simply, without looking him in the eye.

Andromeda's house was beautiful. Victorian, elegant and delicate. Black style at its purest.  
And Draco would have noticed all this if he hadn't been running for the door like a madman. 

It was raining, but he didn't care.
He punched the doorbell until an elf opened it, ushered him inside and promised to call his mother.  
He waited begrudgingly, pacing in circles on the carpet, dripping.  

"Draco. To what do I owe the honour of your presence?" 
He turned his head immediately. His mother was at the top of the stairs.  
Cold.  
Distant.  
And she was measuring him up and down. 

Shit. She knew.
But that, he thought excitedly, that meant Hermione was here. 

"I want to see Hermione, Mother." He said, serious, matching Narcisa’s stare. 

She smiled sadly, still not coming down the stairs. 

"She's not here, son" 

He looked at her and didn't believe in it for a second. So, Draco started to walk up the stairs in two steps at time, calling the witch's name out loud the whole time. 

"Hermione! Hermione!" 

Narcisa intercepted him in the middle of the stairs. 
"I told you she's not here, Draco! Now stop disturbing the house, stop dripping on your aunt's new carpets and get back to your mistress!" 

"I don't have a mistress!" he bellowed, angrily “I don't know what she told you but-" 

Narcisa cut him off "She told me nothing, Draco. Nothing! Who told me was my father portrait, after seeing your whole scene with Severus. And I would have rushed to my daughter-in-law to console her and apologize for the unworthy son I have if I could, but Andromeda is in bedrest and needs my help with Teddy!” 

Draco looked at his mother in dismay. For Granger's defence, for the offenses, for her loyalty to her sister, for her concern for the son of a werewolf. But of it all one thing stood out the most. 

"So you know where she is? Where she is?" 

"Of course I know where she is. I correspond with Hermione regularly. I know what family means!"  

That was too much for him, and he shouted at her: "I know too, mother! Everything I've done in my fucking life has been for our family. The war! This marriage!"  

"Sure, Draco! I imagine you're going to have a long talk with your children someday, telling them how you had to cheat your wife for the good of the family!" She shouted back. 

"I don't even have children, Mother!"  

"Wrong again, Draco! I know that your wife, who you ignore and ostracise in Wiltshire while keeping mistress in London, made an international apparition as soon as she discovered about her pregnancy, just to tell you! Because, for her, family is important. And I know she nearly fainted after being so weak, father said she couldn't even stand up! And all that to give wonderful news to a scum of a husband who was balls deep inside another woman, in her house, on her birthday, on their wedding anniversary!” 

Narcisa seemed to have reached the upper limit of anger. She punctuated each word with a poke to his chest, and ended with a slap to his face.  

Draco held his hand to his face. His mother had never hit him.  
Ever.
 
She turned to leave, but spoke first "Go back to London, Draco. You need feel no obligation to Hermione. Andromeda should be discharged in a few days, and I will come home to look after my daughter." 

That shook the shock of the slap away from him: "Is she at home? At the mansion? She's been at the mansion the whole time?" 

"Where else Draco? We are all she has left. The only home left, the only family left. Not that we deserve a person like Hermione in our lives, but unfortunately for her we are the only option." 

He looked at his mother, not knowing what to say.  
But he didn't even need to, because she continued:  

“If I were you, Draco, I would beg on my knees in front of her; beg for forgiveness, to maybe save a modicum of the affection she had for you”. 

"Hermione lik-… She th-… She felt affection towards me?" He looked at her, shocked.  

"Felt, Draco. Past tense. Congratulations,  you managed to crush any affection she might feel for you”.  

She shook her head again in his direction, a look of disgust on her face, and went back the way she came.

Chapter Text

In the same day, when he arrived at the mansion, Draco was informed by a taciturn Pod - his personal elf - that the Lady was waiting for him in the blue room. 

Draco was surprised.  
After his conversation with his mother, he had rushed to the London house, changed and had come straight here.    

Even if she had wanted to, Narcisa she wouldn't have had time to warn Hermione.
So, for her to be aware of his arrival, Hermione would have to be deeply connected to the mansion’s wards.
Not that she wasn't capable of that; she was brilliant. 
He'd just never noticed how deeply, how serious she assumed the Lady’s role.
Understanding the wards. Waiting for him when he came home from trips. These were duties she was supposed to have as his wife.
 
And that she seemed to be exercising even when she was furious with him.  
Which she certainly would be.
He remembered the witch cursing Marietta Edgecombe in fifth year. Rumours of locking Rita Skeeter. Her slapping his face back in the third year.  

She would surely be furious. Enraged. Hermione would unleash fury in his direction.
His wife would surely cast spell after spell on him.   

He took a deep breath before opening the door to the room.  
And she really was there, looking out the window.
Unarmed. And calm.  

"Draco" she greeted expressionless, looked up at and nodded, before returning her vision to the window. 

He looked at the witch, unsure how to act. The relief he had felt on entering the room and seeing that she was indeed there was replaced by worry. Why wasn't she fighting with him?   
 
And since she wasn't confronting him, it would be up to Draco to raise the Irina’s… issue. 
And he had no idea how to do that. How and what to explain to her. 
 
He had spent weeks trying to find out the witch's whereabouts, and he didn't know what to say now that he had found her.  
His eyes went straight to her belly, but she was wearing a loose dress, and he couldn't see any change yet. 

"Hermione" he greeted back, without taking his eyes off her. 

She turned and began to discourse in monotone about the activity at the manor, the tasks that needed his attention, like reinforcing the protection spells in the forest, and about a ceremony in the Tremblay House that they were supposed to attend on Halloween. 

He just nodded, half-listening, taken again by the fucking relief  of she being finally there, so close, within his reach.  
And considering again how wonderful she was in her new role. 
Hermione Jean Malfoy was as perfect in her role of his wife as she had been in her role as war heroine.   

There was nothing that witch couldn't do. 

He was aware that he was just standing there, looking at her like an idiot, but he kept it up until she finished. 

"That's all. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to my study" she left, all dignity, without looking back.  

He followed her with his eyes and blinked, dumbfounded.  
She hadn't shouted at him.  
She hadn't cussed, hit, swatted.   

Nothing.  

In fact, she didn't even seem to care about his presence there, not reacting to his arrival and simply discoursing on the affairs of the house as if they were bloody colleagues. 

He didn't know what to think about that, and made his way over to a bottle of firewhiskey on the coffee table, at the same time calling out to his elf. 

"Pod!" He almost shouted. 

Pod appeared on the spot, bowing.
That was odd, Draco thought.  
Pod had been his forever, and he was never formal with him.   

That was a sign that he was probably angry with Draco. Possibly for the abandonment; Pod hated it when Draco walked away from the mansion and didn't call for him. 

"Prepare my bath, please, Pod". 

"The bath is ready. The lady asked me to prepare it as soon as she heard of your arrival". 

The elf disappeared again, before he could say anything else.

"What the hell" he thought, taking the cup with him to his room. All he needed now was an insolent house elf! 

When he reached the room, Pod appeared to pick up his dirty clothes.  
 
Draco decided to try to get some information out of the elf, even if grumpily. 

"All right in my absence, Pod?" 

The elf nodded: "Apart from the incident with Lady." 

"What incident with Hermione?" Draco paused in the midst of taking off his shoes. 

"Lady Malfoy" the little elf said, taking a deep breath "turned up at the manor one night last month, passed out. She already arrived unconscious, and we needed to take Lady to her room. There was no one to look after Lady. Wendy and Pod looked after her like we look after pregnant elves." 

"What happened? Did she get well? Is the baby okay?" He asked, anxious. 

Could that be why he hadn't seen any change in her? She had lost the baby? Their baby? 

Pod looked at him, and for the first time in his life Draco had a house elf looking at him up and down, with recrimination rather than reverence. 

"It is not right for Lady and the future heir to be looked after by us" 

Draco listed his patience "Hermione loves elves, Pod! I'm sure she enjoyed being looked after by you. My child, please. Is everything alright?" 

"The child is fine. The lady called a healer and stayed in bed. So weak she couldn't get up." 

He looked at Draco and repeated:

"it is not right that only the elves look after Lady!” 

Draco rubbed his eyes. "I know, Pod. I know. I promise I will stay to look after her from now on”.  

The elf nodded, solemn, and disappeared. 

Of course she already had the elves' loyalty, Draco thought. She had loved them, since before the war, and for weeks they had been her only company... 

And even before that, he thought. When she had arrived at the manor and found a distant husband and a hostile mother-in-law.  
She'd only had them to help her adjust to her new life.
He sank into the tub to clear his thoughts.

When Draco came downstairs for dinner, Hermione was already in the dinning room, sitting at the table.  

He tried to attract her gaze during the meal but she spent the whole time reading The Prophet while eating. 

Draco didn't know why he had started that shit custom; his father never allowed the newspaper at the table.  

As a matter of fact, he did know: He started it to avoid Hermione stares, and having to talk to her. 

It was ironic that now he wanted to take the newspaper out of her hands and force her to face him. 

At the end of the meal he tried his luck:  

"Hermione" he called, on the smoothest voice he could manage. 

She finally lifted her eyes from her reading and looked at him, silent. 

"I was wondering if you wouldn't care to join me in the green room after dinner" 

The green room was his mother's favorite. It was light, soft, full of flowers. And books. And an enchanted piano. They could talk there. He could ask her her opinion about the next laws to be voted on. About the accident on the nightbus last week. About the Asian war. About anything that would make her look at him as she did on those mornings in bed, that September night in the kitchen hallway, at that very table when he told her to go to the chateau. 

"Thank you, but you needn't bother. Wendy and I have to work on the details of the New Year's ball after dinner." 

He nodded, but doubted she had seen it. She had barely made eye contact with him during the whole response.

Hermione

Hermione was tired.  
Being pregnant was exhausting, and the planning for the traditional  New Year's Eve ball the Malfoy's held every year was killing her.   

It was the first big event she would preside over, and she wanted it to be perfect. 

She left the studio massaging her neck, and was taking quick steps to her room until a noise in the old dining room made her stop. 

Hermione had avoided that room since she had arrived at the mansion. She knew that Narcisa had renovated the room - which had served as the Throne Room for Voldemort - even before their marriage.  

But still, she avoided the place. The marks of Belatrix's torture were not only on her arm but in her soul, to this day.
She didn't want to go in, but it sounded like someone was breaking into the mansion.  
The sounds were of breaking and destruction, so she took a deep breath and wielded her wand, opening the door. 

There, in the middle of the room was her husband, clearly drunk, shirt unbuttoned, barely standing, and breaking everything around him. 

He wasn't even using his wand. He was just throwing chairs and glasses against walls, chandeliers. Causing chaos. 

"Draco!" She shouted loudly as he hurled a chair at the stained glass window "what, in  the name of Godric, are you doing?" 

He dropped the chair on the spot and walked over to her, fast. Before she could say anything else he hugged her and put his face into her neck, seeming to smell her.  

And he started to cry. 

She didn't know what to do. That man, forced to mature by war and marriage as much as she was, was crying like a child, smothering her in his embrace. 

"Draco, what's wrong? Let me call Pod-" 

At the elf's mention he sobbed and threw himself to the floor, hugging her legs tightly. 

"Draco. What's going on? Is it your mother? Is Narcisa okay?" 

He shook his head, indicating it wasn't about his mother, but didn't let go of her.  
She tried to pull away but he wouldn't give in to her grip. 

"Draco, hey. Let go of me. I'm just  
going to sit down with you, okay?" 

He loosened his grip, she bent down and sat on the floor next to him, and Draco threw himself on top of her, almost knocking her over, to hug her tightly again.  

"What happened, Draco?" 

She looked at him worriedly. What had happened? Had his mistress broken up with him? Did he love her that much to cause such chaos? 

Is that why he had come back? Because she had ended the affair? Or was he just frustrated for having to be here at home instead of with whom he truly wanted? 

He just stared at her and refused to answer, shaking his head. 

She turned to get up and he pulled her onto his lap, and held her there, crying and breathing deeply into her neck.  

Hermione didn't know what to do but stay there, still, until he collapsed from sleep, exhausted, and she called Pod to take him to bed.

Chapter Text

Draco woke up with a killer hangover.  

He didn't remember much from the night before, only that he saw Hermione leaving the dining room  before he went to his studio.  
 
He answered some of the letters in the pile that was piling up, until he got his hands on Ronald fucking Weasley's letter. 

It was dated in the end of August. So, it had been sitting there for weeks.
He, who hadn't stopped drinking since he had arrived that afternoon, turned over a glass of firewhiskey before reading it. 

It was a festival of insults.  
Weasley was saying that he didn't want to write but that the mind-healer from training for aurors forced him to.  
That he hated Draco; that Draco was a cowardly jerk who would never in his life know how to appreciate Hermione. That he didn't deserve her. That Ronald would spend his life trying to convince his witch, meant for him, to end this farce and seek a divorce. And that he would never let Hermione forget that she had been tortured and almost died in the dining room of his house! 

Draco burned the letter as soon as he read it. Half out of anger, and half out of fear that Hermione would read it and see the truth but Weasel's words.  
All that and he didn't even know about the betrayal, Draco thought bitterly, turning another glass of whiskey. 

After that, all seemed confusing. He thought he had gone to the infernal room, trying to throw a Fiendfyre into the place but failing. Then he remembered Hermione, sweet, caring, hugging him, looking at him like he was more than a worm on the floor.  

It should have been a dream.   

He called Pod, and asked the elf for a Hangover Potion. 

As they only worked for a few hours after brewed, the elf had to go to the apothecary to get it. 

On the way out, he warned Draco that his mother had returned.
Perfect, he thought.
Wonderful. All she needed was someone else there, another occupation, another reason for her to avoid him.  

Hermione  

When she retired for the night the day after her husband's return, Hermione thought the day had gone very well. 

Narcisa had arrived before breakfast, and informed her that Teddy and Andromeda would be coming in a few days.  
When Draco appeared, late, she and her mother-in-law were already leaving, arm in arm, eager to plan activities for Andromeda's stay. 

They had lunch at Hermione's studio, going over the plans for the New Year's Eve ball, so Hermione didn't meet her husband again until dinner; and though he seemed to look up at her and Narcisa's animated conversation all the time, he hadn't participated.

At the end of dinner, Narcisa asked aloud for the family spend some time in the green room.  
Not seeing how to deny it, Hermione agreed, and took the right side of her husband's arm until there, while her mother-in-law was in his other arm. 

There, in the room, Narcisa strummed the piano for a few seconds.  
Draco stopped nearby, watching his mother as she played, a glass of whisky in his hand. Until Narcisa surprised her, turning to Hermione. 

"Hermione, dear, I have a surprise for you!” 

And clapping her hands together, a gramophone materialised, on top of the piano lid.  
Hermione put her hands together, delighted. 

"Narcisa! How perfect! Thank you!" She leaned to give the witch a hug, and saw Draco grimacing.  

He probably think Narcisa shouldn’t spend the family gallons on her.  
Hermione chose to ignore his reaction, and examined the gramophone, carved with a treble clef. 

She looked between the records that had also magically appeared, while Narcisa got off the stool and owed herself a glass of wine, filling another with juice for Hermione as she spoke to Draco,  

"Hermione and I discovered that we share a love for classical music. I think it's absurd we don't have a gramophone like this one to this day!” 

"But Mother" he interrupted, raising his hand "we do have a gramophone. In the ballroom" 

"Ahhhh" said Narcisa, smiling "but this one is different. Hermione, dear" 

And she came over to the witch, accepting the glass of non-alcoholic grape juice, "please, dear, put one of your hands on that symbol on the top of the gramophone. According to the salesman, it will cause the device to summon and automatically play the record and music best suited to your mood!!!" She clapped her hands together, delighted with the idea.  

Hermione appreciated Narcisa's effort to please and really loved classical music.  Laughing, she took the juice with one hand and with the other, touched the symbol.  

From the stack, a Mozart record rose and magically flew into the gramophone, beginning a tune that she recognised on the spot.  
A meaningful, sad and melodic one. 

"I'm afraid I don't know this aria, dear. Lucius has never been much of a Mozart’s fan. What's it about?" 

Hermione's eyes were closed, listening to the music. She opened them and her gaze was drawn to Draco, without her being able to help it. 

She stared at him briefly before shifting her eyes to Narcisa, and saying in that know-it-all voice she had intoned since primary school:  
 
 "I'm surprised you don't know it, Narcisa. Ach ich fühls is one of the most famous arias from the Magic Flute" she took another sip before declaiming "Ah, I can feel it, the happiness of love-
Gone forever!
Nevermore, O hours of ecstasy,
Thou shalt return to my heart!"  

She turned to watch the.
gramophone play before continuing. "In this passage, Tamino plays the flute and Pamina appears, drawn by the sound, only to receive silence from her beloved and realise she has lost her love"
She sipped her juice before turning to her family.   

Narcisa looked at her, sad, and if  Draco had any comment on the music, he didn't externalise it, turning to one of the bookshelves and looking for a book to read.

Draco 

Draco only put the book down when Hermione and Narcisa went to bed.  
Not that that meant he knew anything about said book. He had barely turned a page of the thing. 

He kept mentally reviewing his witch's face, receiving his mother's gift.  
It was just a fucking device!
If she asked he'd give her an orchestra every night, if she only deigned to look at him in return! 

Plus, there is the issue of the music she conjured up:  a beautiful aria, about someone who had lost the love of their beloved. 

He made a mental note to look up that opera. Could it be that her magic summoned the music with him in mind?  
Or did she have something going on with Weasley? 

Before that bloody letter, he had never thought much about that. Now, he remembered clearly the Hogwarts battle, the requirement room, the fire, Weasley shouting that Hermione was his girlfriend. 

That was only a few months before they were married.  
Could it be that she was Weasley's girlfriend at the time of their marriage?   

Had she fuck with him like she did with Draco? Had she sucked his soul off and back again? Had she moaned and kissed and smiled and nestled into the weasel too? 

Draco closed the book, irritated. This situation was untenable. He needed to force her to talk, to acknowledge what had happened, so they could put this behind them and move on.
He would go after her tonight.

Chapter Text

Draco went to his room and waited. When he heard the sound of her bathroom door closing - Hermione always closed the door to the room before she went to sleep - he waited a few minutes and opened the connection between their rooms. 

Her room was already dark. He went to the bed, and entered it, crawling until he found the witch's face. 

She was awake and looked up at him, her dark eyes locked on him. 

Draco wanted a reaction from her. He wanted her.  
 
The warmth and the contact that only Hermione could provide.  
So, without thinking, he bent over her and kissed his wife.  

She didn't correspond but didn't push him away, either, and for Draco that was enough. It had been weeks. Fucking months since he had denied to himself how much he wanted her.   

How much he need her.  
He took his time kissing his way down her supple body. Neck, breasts, belly. Everything.  
He was hungry for her, he needed her, needed her to fuck him like she did before. 

When he bent down to lick her, lifting one of her legs and angling her cunt, she let out a sigh. And when he didn't want to wait any longer and finally thrust into her, he wanted to cry with relief. 

She was there. And was his. He began to rub his nose close to her neck and speak whatever came to mind. 

"Mine. Fucking mine. Only mine. My perfect wife. You're so good to me, Granger. My good girl. I need you. I need you to cum for me, minx. Can you? Cum for me, love. Please, please, cum for me." 

He felt her walls contract against him and saw her close her eyes, hard.  

Just it. 

No screaming. None of the overwhelming passion she always showed. None of the smiles and the sounds and the touches that made him lose his mind. 

How had he dared to compare them? Hermione had been real, passionate, lost in pleasure. And even now, that she wouldn't return his touch, wouldn't relish in him, wouldn't even move her arm across his back, just her body, her smell, her taste, her softness were already better than the artificial experiences he'd had with Irina. Forced. False. 

Draco knew it was all wrong. That he should stop, that he should try to talk to her, that she hadn't denied it but she wasn't giving herself entirely either, but it had been so long since he'd had her, so long since he'd fucked her and gotten drunk on her, and he felt so fucking complete that he wanted to scream in contentment and despair at the same time. 

He fucked her, hard, smothering her with kisses until he came hard, lost, happy. 

Draco was still smiling when he lay down beside her, pulling her against his chest and rubbing his nose against her hair.  

He crossed his arms around her waist and looked down. It appeared that her abdomen was indeed slightly swollen. 

Draco felt his chest fill with pride.

"How far are you?" he asked, stroking her belly. 

"Eighteen weeks. A little over four months." 

"Already?" He was sleepy, but doing the math. “You mean the baby would be born in March?” 

Her voice dripped with contempt: Yes, you are very efficient. Congratulations. My child will probably have to fight with Merlin knows how many half siblings over the right of the first born."  

He stood up suddenly, offended.
"Of course not! I would never have a child out of wedlock!" 

She let out a bitter laugh, still lying on her side. "Please, Malfoy. I know first hand how you might very well have children outside of our marriage. You have already diminished and humiliated me in every way possible. Lying to me is unnecessary." 

"I don't lie!" He shouted, furious. 

"Oh no?" She turned to face him "So tell me, husband, what is to stay for weeks in London under the guise of working just to fuck other witch?" 

He was mute and she turned her back to him, closing her eyes. 

"Just go away, Malfoy" 

His heart clenched in his chest. 

"No, Hermione, I-" 

"Go!" she shouted with her eyes closed. "I don't know why you came back but you can go, just go, and leave me fucking alone for Merlin's sake!" 

"No!" he shouted back, grabbing her arm and turning her around so that she opened her eyes and faced him. "You're my wife, Hermione! I will never leave you alone! You are mine, do you understand?" 

She closed her eyes, and tears began to well up. "Why have you come back, Draco? Haven't you tortured me enough already?"
His hands went straight to the sides of her face, his forehead resting against hers, "No, Hermione, no, I just want to stay here. I just-"   

He stopped talking because her crying was now uncontrollable, with hiccups and sobs.  
Wendy appeared sounding a pop, and ran to the bed. 

"Master Malfoy needs to go, I have to look after Mistress" she said firmly. 

He did not let go of Hermione. 
"You go, Wendy. I will take care of my wife" 

But Hermione had released herself from his grip and curled up like a ball, hugging herself. 

"Master Malfoy needs to go now"  

The elf looked almost angry with him. 

"I said no, Wendy!" 

Hermione spoke with her eyes closed, in a low but firm voice, full of hate. 

"Just go, Malfoy! Just get out of here! Go to her, go wherever you want, go wherever the devil carries you. Just leave me alone!" 

"Hermion-"  

"Mistress told you to go" Wendy said loudly, climbing onto the bed.
Hermione placed her head on the elf's small lap and sobbed even harder. 

Draco just looked from Hermione to Wendy and left, slamming the door.

He only stopped in his room to put on a pair of trousers and marched off to his office, from where he called Pad and ordered whiskey. 

He was offended.  
How had she said he would have a child out of wedlock?  

That was unheard of! He was a Malfoy, not a peasant who acted like a dog in heat! 

But, a voice said in his conscience, you've done that, haven't you? You've acted like a  fucking puppy in heat. You've snogged, fondled and shagged a witch Who wasn't your Wife.   

He only didn't cum inside her because Hermione interrupted, Draco thought. And if Hermione, who hadn't planned to get pregnant and was taking contraceptive potions, still got pregnant, imagine if the witch - if Irina, he reminded him, with contempt - if she wanted to? If she wanted to get pregnant and acted on it? She could have taken a Fertility Potion before meeting him, for all he knew. Then Hermione would be right, and he'd have children with different women less than three months apart! 

Now that would be a disgrace to his family name! 

She wasn't even worth the risk. She was nothing compared to Hermione Granger.   

He didn't want the witch, true, but he was still capable of recognising the obvious. He would never choose Hermione for himself, right, but even he had to admit that she was completely superior to the other witch.
He couldn't understand what was happening to him. And nor did he want to at the moment. So he turned glass after glass of firewhiskey, until he was completely drunk.
***

Chapter Text

"Ma'am! Madam! Madam needs to wake up!" 

Hermione woke up with Wendy shaking her frantically. She had slept terribly after Draco's visit to her room, and after all that crying her head felt like it was going to explode. 

"Wendy?" 

"Lord Burke is coming to the mansion. He sent an owl to Lady Narcisa warning, and Lady Nascisa asked Wendy to come and get her Lady!" 

Hermione stood up quickly. Burke was the leader who represented the traditional families in the ministry. He had been there, the night of the bond. And if Narcisa asked for her presence immediately, something was happening . 
She quickly got ready and walked to Narcisa's green room, with Wendy at her heels. 

"What about my husband, Wendy? Is he coming down too?" 

Wendy snorted. "If Pod can wake him up. Master slept in the floor after drinking half of your cellar, ma'am." 

Hermione considered the elf’s words. Draco had drunk too much. Again.  
Great, as well as being an adulterer her husband was also an alcoholic.
Bloody perfect.    

She walked into the green room, where her mother-in-law was giving quick instructions about flowers and moving armchairs around. 

"Narcisa? What's wrong?" 

The witch dismissed the elves who helped her and Wendy, and pulled Hermione so they could sit together on a sofa. 

"Burke sent a very pithy letter, Hermione. He wants to talk to our family about at the Wizengamot." 

"He intends to take our seat on the council away? He can't! Old family seats are hereditary! Not that I agree, obviously, but they are.  
How is he going to take it away from you? And why? Is it because of me?" 

Narcisa looked at her, fondly.     

"Obviously not. Make no mistake, Burke didn't like your marriage, but in his words it was 'the perfect coup to restore the Malfoy family's fame'. He quietly invested in several partnerships that Draco only got because of your name, dear. No" she said, hardening her gaze "I imagine he is here for my beloved son" she said sarcastically.  

Hermione didn't know how to respond to her mother-in-law's cold tone referring to her own son  

"Narcisa, I-" 
 
“Never mind, dear. Have you eaten?" 

Hermione shook her head. 

"Hermione! You're pregnant! Nothing, not even this meeting - which by the way is already late - is more important than you staying healthy! Come on, I'll call-" 

Just then, a visitor came through the door but it wasn't Lord Burke. 
It was Arthur Wesley. 

"Mr. Weasley!" Hermione stood up, delighted, and hugged the wizard. "It's been so long! To what do we owe the pleasure of your  visit? Is Molly alright? In yesterday's letter Ginny didn't m-" 

The wizard looked at her verbiage fondly. 

"It's all right, Hermione. Actually, I came by to check on you. Your husband came to the Burrow some weeks ago, but you weren't along" 

Hermione was shocked. Draco went to the Weasley’s house? 
For what reason?  

She forced a smile and looked in his direction. 

"I'm in no condition to travel magically, Mr. Weasley. I'm pregnant!" 

The wizard looked at her in surprise, but before he could comment Lord Burkw entered the room, and they fell silent. 

"Mrs. Malfoy. Lady Malfoy. Arthur" he greeted everyone before taking a seat in one of the armchairs, with Hermione and Arthur Weasley following his example. 

"How nice that you are here, Arthur. I imagine you've come to scold your surrogate daughter?” 

The three looked at him, mute, but he needed no further encouragement and continued to speak. 

"We all know she was not up to a Lady position, and if that was the problem I wouldn't even have been surprised. Now, that she was incapable of keeping her husband in his own bed I never supposed." 

Hermione and Narcisa exchanged a panicked look as the wizard continued "the least one would hope is that she would open her legs enough to interest her own husband, so he wouldn't have to seek other women so ostentatiously" 

And he paused to sip the tea that  had appeared on a tray beside him, as if he hadn't said anything too much. 

Arthur's ears turned red and he said in an extremely low voice, "Are you telling me that that sorry excuse of human being is not respecting my daughter? Is that it?" 

Burke looked at him, calm "Arthur, I know it's shocking. I mean, we all hoped that as a... muggleborn she would have enough sexual talents-" 

But Arthur Wesley threw himself into the armchair, knocking her backwards with Burke and all, and set about punching the wizard in the face. 
Narcisa acted quickly, pulling out her wand and separating the two wizards. 

As Burke huffed and squirmed, Arthur went over to Hermione, pulled her in and hugged her, tightly.  

He looked at her with such pity and sadness that Hermione couldn't take it anymore and ran out of the room, sat down on the stairs and started to cry.

Draco ran down the stairs. It had taken him ages to get a hangover potion, he should have been here long ago.  

At the bottom of the stairs Hermione was curled up, sitting up, crying, with Wendy patting her lightly on the back. If Draco thought he had felt the hardness in Pod's gaze, that was nothing compared to Wendy's expression.  

She certainly would kill him if she could. 

He reached up and tried to say something but the elf slipped her arms around Hermione protectively, and turned her face away. 

Damn it, I don't have time for this, he thought, hurrying to the green room. 

There, his mother sat on a sofa, wand raised, while Arthur Weasley and Burke bellowed mute insults at each other.
His mother, by the looks of it, had put a barrier between them and silenced them both. 

"Good. You have arrived" Narcisa stood up, as if the surrounding scene was no big deal. "Please tidy up your mess, will you? I have a daughter-in-law to look after"  

And she walked past him, dropping the spells and closing the door. 
 
Before the two wizards could start they fight again, Draco spoke:  

"Mr. Weasley. Burke. If you two can remain calm, please accompany me to my office, kindly."

Draco had barely sat behind his desk when Burke began.  

"I understand, Draco, That you are not sexually attracted to your wife. We all understand, believe me. Her status... the point is that you need to conduct your affairs more discreetly!" 

Draco looked at him, shocked. 
"How do you know?" 

"It's my job to know this kind of things, Draco. It amazes me that more people don't know, with your absurd behaviour. Your own family home? Rent a flat in Muggle London like everyone else does, for Merlin's sake! Do you have any idea what will happen to the family's reputation if they find out you cheated on Golden Girl?" 

"Family reputation? Family reputation? Is that what you're worried about, Burke? Well, rest assured that the worry will be removed. Bond or no bond, I'm taking Hermione away with me now" and he started to get up, at the same time Draco shouted "No!" 

The fright made the wizard sit up again. 

"Hermione is my wife! She belongs here!" 

Arthur Weasley was looking at him with more contempt than ever, and that was something. The wizard had never respected him before, but things were much worse now. 

"Do you there know anything about a marriage, boy? About loving and caring and respecting? About being faithful? Hermione told me she's pregnant. Do you know anything about being a father?" 

He held Draco's gaze, who bowed his head in shame. 

"I could have resisted more. About the bond. I could have, and should have, for Hermione sake, put my foot down. Insisted on some way out. But I didn't even do that because I had the impression that even begrudgingly you liked her. You cared about her." 

"I care! Obviously I don't like the witch but -" 

Arthur stood up, shaking his head "Hermione and I are leaving". 

Draco was on top of him in a minute , pressing the older witch against the wall "No one is going to take my wife away from me! Not your son, not you! I'll kill you before I lose her, you hear me?" 

The wizard didn't answer, and Draco let go of him.  
He looked at Draco as if he was a piece of shit stuck to his shoe and left, slamming the door. 

Draco started to follow him to make sure the wizard wouldn't take Hermione but the voice of Burke reminded him that it wasn't over yet. 

"Great Draco, great. The last thing you need now is for society to hear that your wife has abandoned the family. Honestly, I came here to threaten you, but I don't think we need to go that far." 

That made Draco turn to him, shocked. 

"I'll announce the good news of the pregnancy in the family as an apology for your absence the last few weeks, but I expect you back soon. And now that your wife is pregnant, just wait for the baby to be born. Hold your impulses a little longer, okay? When your heir is born I'm sure Narcisa would love to raise him. Then you can install a woman in Muggle London, as we all do, Draco. As your wife does not understand the ways of society, I would consider moving her to France, where she will not even know of rumours. Or make a deal for her to find a lover discreetly as well. You will only need to see her sometimes for the bond”. 

Draco looked at him, dumb with astonishment. He didn't know what had shocked him most about the whole speech.  

“Right, all sorted, I'm off, I need to make sure your friend Theodore Nott keep to the narrow path too. The Grengrass sent me a worried owl yesterday. I hope it's as easy as it was here." 

Draco still didn't respond. It sounded like the wizard was speaking Greek. As he didn't move, Burke stood up. 

"I'll find my way out. Keep up the good behaviour, Draco". 

He waited for the door to close behind the wizard before throwing a glass at it.

Chapter Text

Compared to that first week after her husband returned, Hermione thought, the next ones were a blessing. 

After that disastrous meeting, Arthur had asked to talk to Hermione alone and begged her to go to the Burrow. She thanked him for his concern but denied it.   
Leaving would only bring more drama to the situation. And now that she was pregnant, Malfoy could use a series of ancient patriarchal laws to magically force her to stay.
She, on the other hand, asked him not to tell anyone what he had heard, to which he reluctantly agreed. 

She walked him to the door, but before he could leave he turned to her and spoke in a sad voice: "Ronald is still waiting for you, Hermione. I think he'll spend his life looking for a way to get you out of here." 

She just lowered her eyes and raised her hand in a mute request for him to be quiet. He respected, and left without saying more.
Sighing, she turned around and found herself facing her husband's chest. 

"What did he mean?" Draco was furious, his eyes practically slits. 

"What?" she was confused. 

"Arthur Weasley. What did he mean about Weasel?" 

"Exactly what he said, I suppose" she replied and went around him to make her way. 

Before she could take three steps, he held her by the arm.
And now it was her turn to flinch, her turn to step back and repel his touch!  

Merlin, the irony, she thought. 

But he wouldn't let her. Holding her again he said, low, menacing:
"He can spend his whole life searching but there's no getting you out of this, Hermione. You and I are forever, you hear me? So you better get used to it!" 

"Like you get used to it?" she retorted, sardonically. 

He looked between her eyes, suspicious, and suddenly let out: "You were together? You and Weasley. Before the wedding. You were together?" 

She looked at him and cast wandless a stinging jinx, causing him to release her on the spot. 

"I don't see why that would be any of your business, husband," she said, leaving without looking back.  

After that, Draco hadn't sought her out individually anymore; but he stayed in the mansion.  
He attended every meal, and answered when Narcisa spoke to him. Otherwise, he just watched the two of them.  
Hermione, especially.  

He stopped reading the paper at the table, and since Narcisa was there, she did the same.
More than once she noticed, when Draco left the mansion for several hours or had long meetings in his office, Pod following her, probably not as discreetly as he should have. Wendy recounted that Draco had ordered Pod to watch Hermione during the day, but he had found his rebellious way of doing this, announcing his presence to Hermione with nods and smiles, clearly indicating where his true loyalty would lie.
Hermione loved the elves of the manor.
 And apparently, they felt the same for her. 

She didn't know what Draco's intention was. At first she thought it was a plan to make sure she didn't catch him when he left to find his mistress, but when Pod started following her even when Draco was in meetings inside the house, she wondered if he wasn't thinking she'd run off to the Burrow. 

The question about Ron surprised her. In truth, he wasn’t wrong. They had been together in the time of their marriage. They had spent the summer together, and the relationship continued when she came back to school.  

But she only was with Ronald for his benefit. She knew they hadn’t a future together. She didn’t love him like she should. 

The thing was, hugging and kissing Ron, sleeping with Ron, seemed very... lukewarm.
 Not passionate.
 Dull.  
She wanted passion, she wanted excitement, she wanted the whole package that the books promised.
Looking back now, she had achieved that with Draco: their physical relationship had been perfect, stupendous, explosive. 

She should send a letter to all those romance authors, scolding them. In none of their books the absurd passion in bed was counterbalanced by a cruel, unfaithful character.  
She never was told that she could, yes, find someone perfectly compatible with her in bed - but who also seemed to be compatible with anything with skirts. 

In retrospect, maybe the universe should have allowed her and Ron to really happen. Why couldn’t he be the one to find her in that damn circle? . Maybe she didn't love him like she should have, didn't feel the way she should have, but he would never have done that to her. He would never have hurt her so deep.  

But that was unfair to her friend. He deserved someone who really wanted him. 

And she would be fine.  
Narcisa was a wonderful companion. She would spend her life there, caring for the baby she already loved and doing her duty. What was expected of her.  
Soon Draco would leave again, God only knows why he was still here.  

And Andromeda and Ted would now be constant company, she thought, watching the baby balancing himself to walk awkwardly in the mansion garden, with his grandmother and aunt laughing and calling him, happy. 

That was her life.  
She would make the best of it, as she had promised Ginny, she thought, as Ted walked over to Narcisa and laughed, lightening his hair immediately in a clear sign of affection, bringing tears to the witch's eyes.
Yes, Hermione thought. That would do it.  

On a November Sunday after lunch, the witches, Ted and Draco were in the green room.  
Draco was surprisingly good with the boy, but refused to call him Teddy. Too childish for a Black, he said to his aunt.  
He only called the boy ‘cousin’, to Narcisa's amusement. 

They were standing there, Draco trying to hold Teddy's attention with a book, when Narcisa looked at Hermione's cashmere turtleneck  and frowned. 

"Your clothes are starting to tighten, dear. We need to provide some new ones for you. Where do you do your shopping?" 

"I don't" she said simply. 

"What?" 

"The clothes I wear I already had before the wedding".   

"Why didn't you buy anything since then? You need to buy,  at least, some maternity clothes!” Mother-in-law asked, dumbfounded. 
 
“I don’t have the money” she stated, simply, shrugging. “As I can't work officially due to family tradition, my books don't earn me any profit. And Draco gave me an allowance, but I use it to pay for my elf, and it I'm saving what is left to buy a dress, probably second hand, for the New Year’s Ball”. 

"Allowance?" Narcisa squeaked , astonished, while Draco had stopped reading for Ted and was looking down at the floor, uncomfortable. 
 
"How much is that allowance, Hermione dear?" 

"6 galleons per month"   

"What????" 

Both of the older witches suddenly shouted. Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling, and noticed Draco was looking like a tomato, his face suddenly red. 

"Tomorrow we're going to London. I know you can't just apparate, and floo is unpleasant to a expectant mother, so I'll arrange  a thestral’s carriage for us.  
We'll go straight to Gringotes, and I'll give you free access to my vaults. Afterwards, there's a new Italian designer shop that's opened there and we'll see if they have maternity clothes, otherwise-" 

Draco interrupted his mother, suddenly:  

"I can-" 

Narcisa cut him off, thick, icy: "You've done enough, Draco. Please give me Teddy,  it's time for him to sleep. You can do whatever you want after that." 

It was a straightforward dismissal, if Hermione had ever seen one, and she expected Draco to be offended, for him to confront his mother in some way. 

But his only reaction was to look at Hermione's face, then at her tight clothes, and lower his eyes, before turning and leaving the room.

Dinner had been fun and light, without her husband's grim presence. After that, Hermione retired for the bed, and was happily reading a letter from Ginny  when she heard a knock on the door. 

She wiped away her tears before answering.
It seemed that everything had made her cry in the last few days, and Ginny's letter had been so sweet, so accepting of her pregnancy, that she could feel her eyes swelling from crying so hard.

"Come in" she said, closing the letter.  

She was surprised to see her husband. She doesn't even know he was at the mansion, since he didn't come to the dinner.  
And Draco never walked through that door.
And also he never knocked. 

He just walked in and stood there, staring at her. Since he wouldn't say anything, she took the initiative.   

“What can I do for you?"    

He took a step towards her and stopped: "We need to sleep together." 

"I beg your pardon?" she looked at him, between offended and confused. 

He shook his head before continuing "The bond, Hermione. It's been some weeks now. We can't risk your body becoming fragile during pregnancy." 

"Thank you for agreeing to subject yourself to the task of shagging me for the sake of our unborn child, but it will not be necessary. The need for us to consummate the marriage is precisely to ensure the fertility of the union. As long as I am pregnant, we need no contact at all." 

He was quiet for a few moments.
"Are you sure?" He asked finally, and she just nodded. 

He nodded back and left the room, without another word.

Chapter Text

The day of the trip to London dawned sunny and beautiful, with the carriage waiting outside the mansion. 

They had a quick breakfast with Draco and Teddy, left the baby with Wendy and Winny, Narcisa's elf, and set off to London. 

The trip was short, and in less than an hour they were in London.
Hermione used that time to make her mother-in-law give up the idea of sharing her vaults, but it was in vain. 

"And if I know" Narcisa said, after vehemently denying Hermione's request that she abandon the idea "that you're not buying clothes for yourself, I'm going to buy the most expensive and tasteless things for you, just to waste. If it's going to make you feel better, think I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for the family. Lady Malfoy has to walk only in her finest!" 
And she said it so arrogantly, that Hermione couldn't help but laugh. 

The transaction at Gringotts was done quickly, and before what Hermione expected the three of them were walking down the street.
Hermione had never noticed how much she missed something as mundane as shopping. Ever since she had sent her parents away, she hadn't known what it was like to randomly walk into shops with a companion, chatting and laughing. 
They spent the morning going in and out of shops, and stopped for a brief lunch before continuing their activity. 

Hermione already had a whole new wardrobe, but Narcisa insisted that they had left the best for last: an Italian luxury shop, which had just opened a branch in Diagonal Alley. The shop was so exclusive that it opened by appointment only, and Narcisa had booked theirs yesterday.   

The owner was apparently an Italian heiress who had decided to move to England last month, and had graciously opened up a spot on her three-week waiting list to serve the Lady's Malfoy and Black. 

When they entered the shop, Hermione was amazed.
The place transpired elegance.  
It looked like a larger version of her mother-in-law's green room, with details dripping with style.  
An attendant who looked like a top model took them to the main room, with a table of champagne and canapes where the owner would meet them in minutes. 

They had barely settled in when the person in question arrived. Blonde,  elegant. Hermione felt awkward just looking at her. She wore a winter dress but clinging to her body, and with each step  crystals sparkled on her neck.  
And fingers.  
And ears.
She looked a jewellery commercial, or a clothing ad.
And her voice was velvety.
Impeccable manners. 
Perfect. 

She greeted them warmly, and guided the witches to the armchairs, where they could discuss what they were looking for and how she could serve them.  

And they didn't want champagne? The witch turned, picked up a glass from the tray and took a sip, closing her eyes and enjoying the drink.  

Hermione felt a cold sensation run down her body.   

She knew that face, thrown back, eyes closed in pleasure. 

Hermione turned away and threw up on the elegant carpet. 

"Hermione!"  

"Hermione!" 

Narcisa and Andromeda rushed to her side, while the other witch watched with an air of concern. 

Wendy suddenly appeared and ran to her side. 

Hermione closed her eyes, barely hearing the words around until the word "carriage" invaded her cloud of nausea. 

"No!" She took her mother-in-law's hand and gritted her teeth, taking a deep breath. 

"I want you two to stay. Finish your shopping and go to dinner, like we had planned" she said it all without opening her eyes. 
She didn't trust her reaction if she saw the witch again. 

"Absurd. You are not well, Hermione. We'll walk you to the mansion."    

"Nonsense" she felt ridiculous having an argument with her eyes closed, and opened them, focusing only on her mother-in-law's face "I'm pregnant, Narcisa. It's normal for me to feel sick. I'm going home in the carriage with Wendy, and you two could just apparate afterwards."  

"I don't know if is a good idea, honey." 

"Please! I'm feeling better already! I just need some rest, and I'll feel much better if I'm not disturbing you for nothing”. 

They argued for a few more minutes but Hermione managed to convince them both to stay, under the promise that Wendy would come immediately if anything happened, and that dinner would be cancelled and they all would dine together at the mansion.
Relieved, Hermione left the room supported by Wendy.  

She had to stop twice more to vomit until she reached the carriage, and in there Wendy used elf magic to help her sleep through the journey.

 Draco

Draco was with Cousin when he heard the commotion.  
He knew he should be working but he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything since yesterday afternoon, nothing beyond the giant humiliation of that conversation in his mother's room. 

He had completely forgotten about the whole allowance thing. Salazar, it was ridiculous. How did he expect her to dress on less per month than he spent on parchment? 

Even more so now, pregnant. He'd asked Wendy and she'd said she'd been using expanding spells on Hermione's clothes for months. 
The mother of his child, of his heir, had to use expanding spells because he was stupid enough not to provide enough for her. 
Not out of impossibility, but out of sheer arrogance.   

The allowance had been Astoria's idea, in last Christmas. He remembered how they'd laughed and joked until they came to that amount.  

How imbecilic he was. Why the hell he had listened to Astoria, who was clearly dying of jealousy of Hermione, he couldn't understand. 

When the conversation came to this yesterday, he wanted to get up on the spot. He wanted to say, to his mother but especially to Hermione, that he would rectify this. That he would open all his vaults for her at the moment. But his mother wouldn't let him speak, and anything seemed little now.
The damage had already been done. 

He had asked Wendy about Hermione's reference to books the previous day, and she had arrogantly informed him that her mistress was an intelligent writer, and her books were in the mansion library. 

It didn't take long for him to find his wife's pseudonym and see two books from a collection on modern arithmancy, written by her and published. 

From the back cover, he saw that both volumes had had more than one print run.  
When had she had time for this?? he wondered, once again in awe of his wife's ability.  

He had become so immersed in observing the books that he had missed dinner. 

And he came to the conclusion that he needed to talk to her. There had been a lot of misunderstandings, a lot that had gotten in the way of them, but they could fix this. 
He needed to apologize, something he was terrible at. 

But how would he apologise for just the vaults issue and not the rest? She was a Gryffindor, she would never fail to mention the white elephant in the room. 

And he wasn't ready to discuss the cheating. Not in a million years. 

What he needed, Draco concluded, was a legitimate reason to get close to her. To get her to listen to him. He could invoke the bond, telling her it was time for them to be united again for both their magic. And for the sake of the baby. And then, when she was  satiated and sleepy, he could hold her against his chest. And say that he would open the vaults for her.
That he would open everything. Any door. Whatever she wanted, all she had to do was named it, and it would be hers. 

He went into the bedroom determined, but barely put his hand on the doorknob before he changed his mind.  

What if she had locked the communication door? He would try to open it, she would know, and she wouldn't open the front door.
So he walked out again and into the hallway, confident. 

Until he opened it and saw his witch. Her eyes red from crying, a letter beside her. 

Was it from Weasley?  
Why was she crying?  
He lost his course of action, and when she pressed him he let out the words awkwardly, being easily rebuffed by her.
Draco knew the bond would not act during pregnancy, but he had counted on her not knowing that.
He had counted on Hermione Granger, fabulous swot, not knowing something. 

He was a real imbecile.
She rejected him without even blinking, and he didn't know what else to do. He wanted to stand there and talk to her but his whole plan fell apart….

Cousin brought a chubby little hand up to Draco’s nose, bringing him back to the present. 
Draco got up with the boy in his lap and was making his way to the kitchen to provide food for the baby when he heard the commotion:  sound of elves appearing and disappearing running around. Turning, Draco  made his way down the hallway, where he saw two elves entering Hermione's room. 

Arriving there he saw the room open and his wife, on the bathroom floor, vomiting noisily into a basin. 

"What happened?" he asked, dumbfounded, aloud.
Was she okay, where was his mother? What had happened? 

Hermione just continued to vomit. Wendy came over to him.
"The lady is not feeling well. You have to go." 

"But what happened?" 

"Nothing new" she said enigmatically. "Mistress needs to be alone. Out" she stretched out a little arm, pointing out of the room.  

Draco searched for Winnie and ask her to look after Teddy; then he  stayed in his room, laying on the bed and listening carefully the sounds in the next room.

Chapter Text

He awoke, startled, to an owl tapping on the window. 

The day was beginning to get dark.
Letting the owl in he pulled out the attached letter: 

"Draco,
We'll have a guest for dinner. I've already warned Hermione. I expect   you two at the entrance, to welcome our guest.
Sincerely,
Narcisa Malfoy."

Was his mother mad?  
Hermione was in a terrible state, unable to entertain guests! 

He put his ear in her bedroom door, but heard nothing. He got ready quickly and went downstairs, standing in the doorway to the living room, pacing back and forth. 

Then several things happened at once. He heard noises ahead, voices, signalling that his mother was coming. A second later another noise behind him, and at the top of the stairs, Hermione was coming, pale but steady, Wendy vigilant, a step behind her. 

Draco was watching Hermione, trying to figure if she was well enough for dinner, when he saw her stop in mid-step, her face contorting with shock. 

He watched, terrified and in slow motion, as she missed the next step, lost her grip on the handrail and fell, rolling down the steps, Wendy desperately trying to stop her fall without success.
It happened in seconds: before he could move, Hermione landed with a deaf thud at the foot of the stairs, unconscious. 

He ran to her. “Hermione! Hermione! HERMIONE!" he shouted, trying to wake his wife, pale and still as death, while his mother screamed in despair. 

He caught her in his arms, desperate, as Andromeda reached for them. She went straight for Hermione's pulse and checked it.
After a few seconds, Narcisa's screams filling the air, she nodded to Draco, her expression relieved, clearly indicating that Hermione was alive.  

He stood up with his wife on his arms and turned to see what had caused her fall: and there, standing next to her mother, was Irina. 

Draco wanted to go to the witch and strangle her with his bare handed, but that could wait: Hermione was the priority.  
He walked up the steps with her on his arms, shouting for Wendy to follow them, and stopping only when he reached the witch's room, which Wendy opened for them. 

He placed his wife carefully on the bed and asked Wendy to call a healer on the spot. The little elf nodded, sobbing, as he sat down on the bed beside his wife, taking one of her hands between his and resting his forehead on their joined hands.  

On the left side of her head a large bruise was forming while Draco watched, helpless.  

It was his fault. It was all his fault. If something happened to Hermione, if something happened to the baby... he raised his oclumency shields on the spot. 

He couldn't think like that now. He wouldn't think like that now.
With Hermione still, just lying there, the little lump on her stomach was even more evident, and he just stared at it, trying not to think of their child was still alive. 

Draco didn't know how long he stayed there , watching the lump in her dress until he felt a pair of eyes on him.  

He turned his head to see that Hermione had woken up, and was staring at him. 

"Hermione! You're awake! How are you feeling?" 

She shook her head, but the movement seemed to bring pain because she stopped suddenly, closing her eyes.  

Then she cleared her throat and asked, in a calm voice: 

"Are you going to send me away?" 

He looked at her, confused.
"What do you mean, darling?" He brought a hand to her chin and watched her eyes, looking for some sign of brain damage that might justify the absurd sentence.
"That's why you brought her, isn't it? Now that I'm pregnant you can send me away." 

He felt his heart clench painfully against his chest, and stroked her cheek.
"Of course not! I would never do that. I didn't invite her, and I'll make sure she leaves immediately. You will never have to lay your beautiful eyes on her again, Granger, I promise." 

She closed her eyes. 

"I have nothing to do with her, Hermione, I swear. I know what you saw, but ever since that day I've never been near her again. I swear on my magic."  
 
She just nodded, and he wanted to speak more. He wanted to say that there had been no one besides Irina either. That he cursed every night the day he had met the witch. That he missed Hermione. But he didn't know how to talk to her, and they spent a few moments in silence until Wendy arrived, accompanied by a healer and a midwife.  
Draco was asked to leave the room, and when he refused, he was physically removed by the midwife. 

He stood in front of the door for a while, and then called Pod and ordered him to take the professionals to his studio when they had finished their examination; then, he went to his office and just sat there, staring at nothing.   

That's how Andromeda found him.  

"Your mother is fine. I gave her a calming draught, and she's already sleeping". 

Draco nodded. 

"And I have already arranged for Miss Strasser to return to London. She's finishing dinner, and I assure you I wish I hadn't offered even that if I'd known she'd be so obnoxious and accept. I imagine she's the pivot of the crisis in your marriage, right?"   

He agreed with his head, again. 

"Your mother didn't know, Draco. You need to know that she would never bring Miss Strasser here if she did." 

That snapped him out of his stupor 
"Of course, but I need to understand why? Why bring her here?" 

“We had an appointment with her today, and Hermione got sick. Miss Strasser, with what I now suspect were ulterior motives, kindly offered to accompany us and attend Hermione here”. 

He nodded, understanding. 

"She asked me to let you know she‘ll be at your disposition should you need anything" Andromeda said, her voice dripping venom. 

Draco picked up a globe from the corner of the table and threw it into the fireplace, smashing the object. 

"Fuck!" 

"Maybe" Andromeda began, unmoved by his tantrum “you and Hermione should live separate lives, Draco. Clearly this isn't working, and it's doing her harm. You could get together from time to time, so the bond will kept satisfied”. 

"I'm not abandoning my wife" he said firmly.  

"There are worse things than abandonment". 

"I know" he snapped, pulling at his hair, frustrated. "I know! I'm trying, aunt, but I don't know how to fix things with Hermione. I don't know how. I didn't want any of this to begin with." 

She scoffed. "Please, Draco. It's time you stopped playing the victim here”. 

“You may not have planned the union, but you care for her. You cared about her enough to go into a magic circle just because the witch was crying. She has the excuse of being muggleborn but you've known that kind of magic since birth! The circle is basically the same as the one just a few miles away from here, where you grew up playing! If you really want to tidy things up, you should think about why you willingly entered that circle. Why you wanted to comfort Hermione so badly that you disregarded the consequences. And while you're at it, also think about this: if Hermione were a pureblood, don't you think you would have courted her years ago?" 

She stood up and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Draco lit a cigarette to think. He didn't want to drink, because he wanted to be fully conscious when the healer arrived and he didn't know how long that would take. 

He opened the window and stood there, staring into the night and smoking, and thinking about what Andromeda had said.  

She was right about the magic circle, he thought. He knew what it was about. Not specifically, not the marriage rune, but in general he knew he was entering a ritualistic circle when he set foot in it.
And he did anyway.
He could have talked to her from the outside. He could have pulled out his wand and summoned her out of the site. But he didn't even think of that, because he was worried about the witch.  

And why was that? Why not just walk away? They weren't friends, never had been.
Sure, he felt guilty about what had happened last year with Belatrix, but still... he felt like something was slipping from his grasp, and he clenched his forehead in frustration. 
His aunt's other point was the easiest. If Granger was pureblood, if she was from a proper family, he probably would have asked his father to start negotiations in the fucking first year.
 And he wouldn't be the only one. She was smart and powerful, every family that played the power game would want her for themselves. 

And if not then, it would have been in the third year, when she changed her hair and started wearing her curls looser, right when puberty stroke. He couldn't help but follow her around the castle from a distance, her ass swaying with every step in her tight jeans, her hair cascading  behind her back.... 

Or then after the Yule Ball. When she had appeared the perfect, beautiful, elegant, regal princess. Definitely after Yule Ball, if only so he could rub it in Krum's face that she was officially his. And to beat up the idiots who kept wanking at her picture. 

Or maybe in fifth year: her OWL results had been absurd. She wouldn't make it past the end of fifth year without an official fiancé.
That was ridiculous, he thought. He didn't understand Andromeda's point.  
If she were a pureblood, he obviously would have courted her long ago. The witch brought together all the best qualities, in his view. He'd wanted her for ages, after all... 

The conclusion hit him like a bolt of lightning: he’d wanted her for ages. He had spent his fucking teenage years teasing the witch. He admired her. He was drawn to her. Given the chance, without regard to the matter of blood, he wouldn't even think before taking her for himself.  

And you didn't think, did you?, Draco thought to himself. He saw her alone and vulnerable and didn't call for help. He wanted to be the one to help her. He wanted to impress her. He knew the risks when he stepped into a fucking magic circle just because she was sad.
He had always wanted her, and given the chance he literally jumped at her, to get the witch for himself.
And treated her like scum afterwards.  

"Fuck" he said, out loud, running his hand through his hair. "I think I love her. I’m in love with Hermione Granger" he said to the empty room. He added "for years, probably". 

But if that was it, why had he been such a jerk? Why had he chosen to stay away from her?
But he knew the answer. It was because he resented her too. For not wanting him back. For never looking at him with anything but contempt for years. For not throwing herself at his feet like the others.  

He wanted to punish her for that. Humiliate her, until she was prostrated at his feet. 

And for 'trapping' him in that situation, when he made himself trapped. When she was more a victim of circumstance than he was. 

He punished her for taking away his choice, his free will - as if he would choose anyone but her. He just needed an excuse for himself to get the witch, and he got it.
He had punished her, again and again, for things that were not of her control.

And he also had the whole speech from his father, from his society, putting it in his head that he was above her... 

He had made a mess of his life. 

Suddenly the studio door opened, and the healer and midwife entered. 

Draco returned to his desk, anxious, and signalled for them to sit down. 
He didn't even need to ask. 

"Firstly, Lord Malfoy, your wife is well. She and the baby." 
Draco let out a relieved breath that he didn't even remember holding. 

"She's had a serious fall. She will suffer from pain and dizziness for the next few days, so it is not recommended that she stand for too long, for the risk of another fall. And, apart from that, the placenta has partially detached. See"  

He conjured up a complicated diagram in the air, explaining how the placenta had become detached, causing a risk of miscarriage. 

Draco felt his blood pressure suddenly drop. 

"The prognosis is always favourable at the beginning of the pregnancy, and worse towards the end of it. We can't remove the baby yet, so we need Lady Malfoy to be on absolute bed rest for the next few weeks. We have prescribed several potions and will monitor the situation closely. If the recovery goes well, in a few weeks she can resume normal activities."
He nodded, processing the information.   

And the midwife began to speak, "Magical pregnancies are more difficult than muggle ones, Lord Malfoy. The foetus needs a strong magical flow to develop, and it takes that from the mother. So pregnancies of muggles, mothers of muggleborns, are rarely peaceful for the expectant mother." 

Draco nodded. He already knew that. 

"Your wife is a national hero. Her strength is admirable and recognised by all. But even she has her limits. I need to ask, has she been leading a quiet life?" 

Draco wanted to laugh in the woman's face. Hermione's life lately was the opposite of quiet. It was a veritable hell, with him being the main devil. 

"There have been some... setbacks" he said finally, without elaborating much. 

"Try to eliminate them. I will pass on a proper menu, strengthening potions and come to work with her weekly after, if Merlin allows, the placenta situation normalise"  

Eliminating him from her life really would solve all the witch's problems, he thought bitterly as he said goodbye to the professionals.

Chapter Text

As soon as the healers leaved, Draco immediately went into Hermione’s bedroom, where his wife was lying, her gaze lost on the wall.  
 
She hated him already. If she lost her child because of him, Draco was sure the witch would never forgive him. 

He knelt beside the bed and pulled one of her hands between his own:
"Hey. Looks like you're going to be here for quite a while. Want me to bring some books from the library for you to read?" 

She nodded, mute, not even looking at him. 

"Okay. I'll be right back," he kissed her forehead and left. 

He wanted to ask an elf to get the titles, but they wouldn't know his wife's favorites.  
They wouldn't know that she loved books of modern fiction and symbolist poetry. And that she preferred biographies above any other style. She devoured that kind of books. 

Shit, he thought. How do I even know all this?
You know because you've been noticing Granger for years, said a little voice in the back of his head.

Draco balanced a stack of books with his wand, which levitated precariously around him. He walked into his room and dumped half the books on his bed, levitating the rest and opening the passage between the rooms : 

"I'm back. I thought we could eat-"
He stopped. Hermione was in the bed, and Irina on the other side of the room, near the door. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" He said, marching to the witch. 

"I just wanted to check on your wife's health and say a formal goodbye!" She said, as he took her by the arm and opened the door to the hallway with force, throwing her out.  

He held the doorknob tightly so as not to do anything foolish, like hitting the woman.  

"Get out of here NOW! Pod!" 

The elf appeared with a pof. 

"Master Draco?" 

"Kindly remove this lady from our house. Immediately."  

He slammed the door hard and ran to the bed. 

"Hermione, I am so sorry! Andromeda told me her offered dinner before she left! Pod will get her out of here. Did she say something? Did she do something to you?” 

Hermione shook her head, mute, tears beginning to trickle down. 

He took her hands again.
"Please don't cry! Please!" He wiped her face with his hands"Shall we take a look at one of the books I've chosen for you?" 

She looked at him and shook her head. "Not now. I'm just tired, Draco". 

She said this sighing, with so much feeling that he knew she didn't just mean physically. 

"Okay. Okay, darling. You lie back and rest, I'll read to you, okay?"  

She shrugged, turning away. He picked a book and started reading, until she caught up on her sleep.

Hermione woke up with a horrible headache.
She opened her eyes to see Draco lying on the bed, full dressed, beside her, asleep.  

Had he spent the night there? 

And what was the reason for the sudden kindness yesterday? It was she who had bumped her head, not him! 

But she would think about it later. First, she needed to go to the bathroom.  

She stood up slowly, carefully, as the healer had recommended, and took slow steps to the bathroom. She was washing her hands when she heard Draco shouting her name. 

She rolled her eyes, and was drying her hands when the bathroom door suddenly opened. 

"There you are! What are you doing out of bed?" 

"I obviously needed to come to the bathroom" she waved around. 

"You should have called me. I would have brought you" he stepped forward, and before she could do anything he picked her up on his lap. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Taking you to bed. Weren't you the brightest witch of our time?"  He looked at her, smiling. 

"It's only a few steps, Draco!" 

He set her down on the bed carefully, "so it's no trouble at all for me. Are you hungry?"   

She just nodded, dumbstruck.  

"Wendy!" 

Her elf appeared. She didn't seem surprised in seeing Draco here, nor in being called by him, and Hermione wondered how many times her little friend had come over to check on her health during the night. 

"Would you bring our breakfast and serve it on the table here, kindly?" 

The elf disappeared with a pof, and instants returned with one of the elves from the kitchen, arranging a hearty breakfast for two. 

"You don't need to eat with me, Draco. You should check on your mother." 
 
She didn’t know how to take this sudden change in his behavior and wanted some moments alone to reflect about it, but he dismissed her words:  

"Mother is fine; Andromeda is with her, and she's already awake and looking forward to seeing you. And I'm not going anywhere, Hermione." 

She stood up, sighing, to go to the table but as soon as she was on her feet he picked her up again. 

"Are you going to do this every time I get up for the next few days?" She asked in exasperation as he set her down on the chair at the table. 

He sat up before answering, calmly, "Weeks. And yes. I told you, Granger, I'm not going anywhere." 

The next two weeks left Hermione so frustrated that she wanted to tear her hair out. 

Draco fucking Malfoy was by her side the whole time.  

He was in her room all day, eating with her, reading to her, trying to talk to her. And when she was busy reading a book or making notes for her own, he would ask Pod to bring his papers and notes and letters, so he could work there, in her desk. 

He wouldn't let her take two steps without picking her up - to go to the bathroom, to go to the table, to go to the window.  

Hermione wrote to Ginny about the incident, and in a break between practices and games her friend overcame all her disgust with the family and came to visit her.  
And Draco begrudgingly left them alone, passing on a series of recommendations to a dumbfounded Ginny. 

He would only leave her side when Narcisa came to spend time with her, which she did as much as possible - considering she was now doing all the work Hermione couldn't do sitting down.  

Her mother-in-law had felt guilty about the incident, and spent the first few days quiet, sad, until Hermione managed to convince her that she didn't hold her responsible. 

"It was an unfortunate coincidence, Narcisa, but you were as much a victim of it as I was" she said one afternoon, a week after the accident. 

When the healer, in the last week of November, released her from the absolute rest, Hermione felt like she might waltz with happiness. He recommended some more time of light workload, however. 

Which meant Draco Malfoy was still her shadow. He followed her wherever she went in the mansion, and wouldn't let her go up or down even one step of the stairs without taking her on his arms again.  

"You know you don't have to do that, Draco. I can do it in my own, walking slowly." 

"You can't be too careful. Besides, have you ever think that I simply enjoy having you in my arms?" He said, winking at her.

Hermione didn't know how to react to this open, flirtatious husband, so she turned her face away and kept her silence every time he said something like that. 

The worst surprise had been the very day after her partial discharge.  
As soon as she got and changed, she went straight to her studio just to find it empty.
Completely empty. 

"Wendy?" 
 
"The lady is up! The lady should have called Wendy to help" Wendy frowned as soon as she appeared. 

"That wasn't necessary, Wendy. Where are my things?" 

"The master took it to his office" the little elf informed, smiling.  

Hermione was indignant.
Why would he do that? He need the room for some reason? He was dismissing her, like she was a employee?   

She marched into Draco's office and entered without even knocking.
 Her husband was at the table reading a letter that he dropped, getting up on the spot. 

"Hermione! Have you woken up yet? I was just coming back, I just came to get some papers! You shouldn't be walking around the mansion alone, I-“ 

"My studio, Draco! What have you done with it?" 

"Ahhh. I didn't feel it was safe enough for you to be alone for so many hours, so I brought your desk and other things here! Isn't that a great idea?" 

And he pointed to the wall of the door, through which she had entered, and there was indeed her table, objects, chairs and even paintings. 

She looked at him dumb with shock. 

"Just think of it as a medical precaution, love." 

"And when you have private meetings? Do I wait in the hall like a child?" 

He looked at her, serious "there is nothing that happens in this office, or outside of it for the mater, that I will keep private from you, Hermione. Never again”. 

She looked away, shaking her head and set to work.

Chapter Text

Thanks to the bed rest, to Draco's overzealous care, to the potions and affection of her mother-in-law and Wendy, and to the work with the midwife, her placenta had fully recovered in the first week of December.  
Hermione felt so relieved that she fell into tears, Draco beside her in an instant, tracing gentle circles in her back and thanking the healers for their work. 

When they left, she addressed the first question that was on her mind, just below her son's well being:  

"Now your watch is over, right? You're going to turn my desk back to my studio and go back to your room." 

He looked at her, serious. "Is that what you want?" 

She nodded, firm. 

He turned his back to her, looking at the window. 

"Consider it done, Hermione."  

She imagined her healing would be the end of his kindness to her - since now the baby was out of danger and her well-being no longer important - but that didn't happen.  
Draco adopted little habits: waiting at her bedroom door to go to breakfast together, taking her arm in his. He didn’t read at the table anymore, and made an effort to talk to her and his mother, even when the subject was menus and fabrics. On the evenings after dinner, when they gathered in the green room, he would put on some music to play and ask her her opinion on the matters the court had debated on the day, since he had gone back to attending the sessions after her recovery. 

Hermione didn't understand the reasons for her husband's behavior, but she didn’t have the time for figuring it out: the New Year's Eve ball was approaching, and she needed to make sure everything would go smoothly. 

And on top of that, there was Christmas itself. Teddy and Andromeda would be spending it with them, so she needed to put them on her gifts list.  
She always liked to give personal gifts, and this year would be no different.
Well, except for her husband. Hermione put Draco on her list, obviously. Not that he deserved it, but it was the right thing to do. 

But that didn't mean that she would spend time thinking throughly to find out what he would like. She just chose for him the most expensive item from the poshest shop in Diagonal Alley. It was his money anyway. 

Draco
 

"Today finally this hell comes to an end!" Draco said, happily, to Theo on the day of the ball. 

He had been practically kicked out of the mansion because of the preparations, and was having lunch with Theo in the Leaky. 

"That bad, eh?" 

"Worse. If I hear ‘complimentary color scheme' one more time I'll avada myself". 

"You could leave the mansion sometimes, you know. I noticed you never join us for drinks after the sessions anymore. It's not like you had to listen to the whole ball-talk". 

"I do if I want to be around Hermione." He stated, simply. 

"Mate, you are so wrapped” Theo laughed, shaking his head, and Draco just shrugged, taking a sip of his beer.
It was true, after all; he had already come to the same conclusion weeks ago. Hermione could ask him to jump and he would just ask how high. 

On Boxing Day, when they had gathered in the blue room and he had seen that he had received a gift from her, Draco had been absurdly happy. Of course he had given her a gift, but he hadn't imagined that she would extend the politeness to him in return.
 
When he opened it and saw that they were dressing gowns from his favourite shop, he felt satisfied. It was a good gift. 

Until he saw what she gave to the others. 

Narcisa had cried and hugged the witch when she opened her gift. It was a magical, enchanting globe with a mesmerising, golden flashing light that showed the baby's heartbeat. Hermione explained that she had adjusted the spell so that it would last forever: even after the baby was born, the lights would flash in sync with her grandson's heartbeat, so that wherever she was he would know that he or she would be well. 

For Andromeda she did something just as significant: she put together a magical album of photos, letters, news and moments from the history of Andromeda and her late husband, Ted Tonks. She made a similar one, about Nymphadora and Remo Lupin, and explained that it was for Teddy when he grew up. 

Draco had never seen Andromeda cry, but unshed tears pooled in the witch's eyes. 

Even the baby got something meaningful. There was a silly song about a crocodile that he liked to hear. So she enchanted a little music box to play the song, while a little crocodile stood where the dancer was supposed to be, and whirled around a pond trying to bite little ducks in sync with the song. 
Teddy spent the next hour mesmerized by the toy. 

So even the baby got something personal, Draco thought, and he didn't even understand it, while
I only got some clothes that I could have bought myself.  

Not that he did any better. Draco wanted to impress her, so he had given Hermione a sapphire necklace. The most expensive one from the jeweler.  
Fantastic.
Beautiful.
And cold. 

Shaking his head, he snapped back to the present, just to see Theo staring at him, in awe. 

"You're a good husband, Draco Malfoy." 

Draco snorted loudly “Hardly." 

His friend looked at him, frowning, and Draco averted his eyes.  
He didn't want to destroy the good image he still had with Theo- mostly because there were few people he cared about who still thought well of him. 

But he needed to say something now. So he opted for his latest transgression. 

"You do know that my wife is friends with Porter and Weasley, right?" 

"Wow! Colored me shocked here" Theo sipped his beer, snorting. 

Draco continued. "So she put them both on the guest list for tonight right? And Potter, ok. I get it. He dates the weaselette anyway. But fucking weasel always wanted Hermione. So I might have vanished his invitation from the pile."  

"You didn't send an invitation to your wife's best friend?" 

"One of her best friends. And he doesn't just want to be her friend, Theo. Even with her married, he still wants her. His own father said so!" 

"Well, from what I remember from sixth year, you had no problems sharing your witches once in a while. I particularly remember a very noisy night of yours with Pansy and Greg”.  
Theo said, smiling. 

Draco saw red. He stood at once, drawing his wand and pointing it at his friend's face, who went pale. 

"Draco! I'm joking, all right? You know it was just a joke! You’d never share your wife! You need to calm down, mate!”  

Draco returned to his seat without saying a word. 

"I need to point out" Theo said cautiously "that I didn't expect a reaction like that. I always respected Hermione, but Astoria and Daphne offended her all the time and you didn't seem to care one bit." 

"Yeah, things have changed. I care now" he took a sip "I care a lot, Theo". 

By the time he got back to the mansion to get ready, it was almost time for the ball. He changed quickly and stood in Hermione's doorway, waiting for her. 

And when she finally came out, Draco realized he was fucked.
She looked beautiful.
 Perfect.  
Her pinned curls cascaded over her back. The deep neckline and low waist of her white velvet dress accentuated her breasts. She had a gold belt on her hips and earrings that stopped at her shoulders.
He wanted to pull those tits out and lick them. 

She came to his side and put her arm in his, dragging him to Narcisa's room, but he stopped her. 

"Hermione..." 

"Yes?" 

"You...”  look beautiful, he thought. Sinful. "...Did you need a cleavage like that?" 

Those were his breasts! 

"Excuse me, but my dress is not inappropriate!" 

"It's not that!" 

"Then what's the problem, Draco?" 

The problem is that the whole ball will want to shag you, even pregnant, he thought. The problem is that you're mine and I can't. The problem is that those breasts aren't full of my marks on them!  

But he just shook his head, and as they reached his mother's room, he knocked on the door.   

The three of them went downstairs together, and together they stood in the doorway. They had barely arrived and the guests began to appear. 

Hermione was a model of politeness and refinement, greeting everyone by their given names - she should have studied, it was the whole fucking English wizard society, and even he didn't know everyone's name. 

Some received effusive greetings, like their former Hogwarts classmates: Longbottom, Patil,  Goldstein, Lovegood, Brown.
With others she was cordial and professional, like with the old members of the sacred twenty-eight. 

Potter and Weaselette almost made her lose her composure, so happy she was to see them. The same happened with Arthur and Molly Weasley - the witch nervous and happy, the wizard looking at Draco with undisguised hatred.  

When Ronald Weasley entered behind them and took far too long kissing Hermione’s hand, it was Draco who lost his composure. As the two chatted happily, braking the line of guests, his mother looked at Draco shrewdly. 

"Bothered, son?" She whispered, discreetly. 

"Very".  

"Surprised to see the wizard here, after you vanished his invitation?"
 
He looked at his mother, venomously. 

"What have you done?" 

"Nothing. I just took the precaution of duplicating some invitations. In case they, you know, went astray. Hermione worked hard for this and deserves whoever she wants here. 

"He wants to take her away from us" he whispered, angry. "Is that what you want?" 

Before she could answer, Hermione moved on to the next guest.  
 
Wesley nodded to him and his mother and walked in, with Draco following his every move. 

After the guests finished arriving, Draco and Hermione followed the protocol: they walked around the hall talking with the guests, smiling and celebrating.  
They opened the dance floor, with Draco hugging her closer than was proper, but he didn't give a shit.   

He buried his face in her neck several times, and when he finished the dance he could feel several stares on him.  

Fuck them all. 

They had barely left the dance floor when Narcisa intercepted them, calling Hermione to accompany her to talk to Merlin knows who; Draco was following the witches but Blaise came from nowhere and grabbed his arm. 

Draco didn't want to talk to Zabini; he had been too mushy with Hermione on his way into the ball, and Draco hadn't liked that one bit. 

"What, Blaise?" 

"You don't need to follow your wife around all night, Draco. People are already commenting on how possessive you are." 

"I couldn't care less. Kindly fuck off, Blaise."  

"Merlin, I'm helping you! You don't want to look like a pathetic wizard, wrapped around her finger”.  

"I told you I don't care, Blaise" he took a glass of firewhiskey from a tray that was levitating nearby, as Blaise looked at him intently. 

"You've changed. Months ago you would never even admit to fancy the witch".  

"Yeah, things change" he replied bitterly. 

To his surprise Blaise cracked a smile "good for you, mate. Your witch is amazing".  

"I know". 

"I'm thinking about going serious  with someone. She is not on the level of your Hermione, but she is… interesting, maybe. I thought I'd introduce her to you, but maybe it's too soon. Has Hermione left bedrest yet?" 

"Yes, but we can't go skydiving just yet." 

Blaise snorted. “A dinner, perhaps?" 

Draco nodded. "Named the time and place and I'll pass the invitation on to Hermione" he patted his friend on the back, and left looking for his wife.  

Hell was really others people, Draco thought, when the ball had already a few hours: He couldn't reach her! He could barely take two steps towards Hermione without someone trying to talk to him, tell a joke or who knows what more. 

Just now, when he finally managed to get rid of Selwyn Draco had barely taken two steps towards her when he saw that insufferable Weasley approaching the group Hermione was standing on, putting his fucking hands in her back and saying something in her ear. She nodded, smiled at the group, and followed him out onto the balcony, from which guests came and went. 

Draco saw red as he walked off towards the balcony, ignoring whoever was in his way. 

As he walked out the doors, he saw that the place at least was bustling: several guests were there, laughing and chatting and drinking.   

He threw a notice-me-not charm and went looking for his wife, until he spotted she and Weasley near the stairs leading to the gardens.  
Draco almost ran to them. 

Hermione was leaning on the balustrade, and Weasley was leaning in, talking to her in a quickly manner. 

But Draco couldn't hear, even when he came close enough; they probably had warded the small area with some spell he didn't know, but could tell that filled his ears with an annoying buzz. 

He tried counter-spell after counter-spell, hidden by the night, by his spell and by the shadows of the trees that fringed the area.   

After a good five minutes he finally managed to fit a counterspell. 

"...It would work, Ron!" 

"Why not? I don't care that you're pregnant! I'll help you raise the baby. He can see him sometimes. I don't care, Hermione. All I care about is you”.   

"You have to give up, Ron! I'm married, for Merlin's sake”. 

"To a bloody git, a death Eater who doesn't give a shit about you! Who stood by and watched you get tortured!” 

"That's history, Ronald!” 

"Oh yeah? And how's he treating you in the present? Does he treat you like he should? Does he respect you? I love you, Hermione! No one will ever love you the way I love you!” 

He was shouting now. Hermione seemed to wince, looking at him fondly    

"Ron... I." She gave up and just put her head down.   

Weasley seemed to take that as encouragement because he came even closer to her, a hand on her arm. 

And Draco exploded. 

"Get your paws off my wife, Weasley!" 

Ronald turned to him immediately. 

"Your prisoner, you mean?" 

Draco cracked a cruel smile "the keyword here is mine, so this is your last warning. Get out of here now, before I rub your face in the floor." 

"So what if she's yours now? She was mine before!" 

He heard Hermione gasped as he replied "Wrong answer, scum" and went all muggle on Ronald, not even thinking about using his wand.  

Weasley was almost tall as him, and stockier, but Draco had the element of surprise in his favour. He knocked the other to the ground and started punching him in the face, giving no chance for defence, until a loud snap sounded and separated the two. 

Hermione stood between them, calm and steady. 

"Ronald, I think you should go. Our conversation is over”.  

“I can't believe you're choosing  him after-"  

"I'm married, Ron. The sooner you accept that, the better. Believe me, neither of us wanted this. Draco is probably the person who hates this situation the most. He would never be with me if he had a choice, but  here we are. And until you understand that, until you accept that I'm tied to Draco Malfoy, for better and for worse, I don't think I can see you anymore. It breaks my heart to say that, Ron, but I really need you to accept things as they are before our friendship goes back to what it was”. 

Weasley ducked his head and muttered something to himself, before walking over to her. 

"Okay, Mione. I'm going to go now. But this isn't over yet. I’m sure the  ferret will mess up, and I'll be waiting.” 

Hermione seemed to lose her patience: “You know what, Ron? He's already screwed up. Fucked up Royal. And I'm still here: it doesn't change anything!
Please understand that me and you, we are not a couple. We sucked for each other. I bet you don't even like me in that sense, not really. I'm pregnant, I'm tired, and I have guests to attend to. Go home, we'll talk later.” 

Weasley made a strange gesture, as if he was going to say something else, but he just nodded and walked off down the garden’s stairs.  

Hermione turned to Draco, and took a deep breath, pulling herself together. 

"Shall we go inside? It's almost midnight, your mother must be looking for us." 

She slipped an arm between his, and they started walking. But before the sound from inside made it difficult to talk, he said softly. 

"You're wrong" 

"What?"  

She looked at him confused and before she could remove her gaze he added quickly: "I wanted this".  

"Want what, Draco?" She looked at  he, confused.

"You said I am the one who like this situation the least, that I didn’t want you, but you are wrong. I want this. I want you. I've always wanted you." 

She shook her head.  

"I don't know what game you're playing, Draco, but I don't have time for this right now, we-" 

He pulled Hermione to himself and kissed her, both hands going to the witch's face, desperate. She stood still in astonishment, and before she could reject him Draco released her, took back her arm and walked them into the party.

Chapter Text

Hermione had a trouble, she thought, as she sipped her juice and nodded mindlessly to a conversation with one of Narcisa's friends from France, and Draco, who wouldn't leave her side. 

The problem wasn't her best friend-slash-ex-boyfriend pouring his heart out, all bravery and worry offering to run away with her. 

The problem wasn't her husband attacking said best friend. 

The problem wasn't even the fact that Astoria Grengrass - whom Narcisa had not only uninvited but banned from the party - was trying to sneak in through the south wing. 

The problem, she thought, was that she was bloody horny. 

It was the bloody pregnancy hormones, she thought. They made her crave for sex all the time. She knew that was common in pregnancy, but she had no idea it would be so intense. 

She tried to work it out on her own,  but it wasn't enough.  
She needed a man. A man who would hammer into her while telling her what a slut she was. 
Merlin, she was indeed a slut.  
 
Before Draco she hadn't even known she was such a kink in bed. 

Anyway, she needed him, she thought, sighing. Just standing here next to him already put her in the mood. 

The problem obviously was the cheating. She had been naive and  stupid to expect anything different from him: Draco Malfoy was a selfish bastard, after all. He would never be faithful to her, and she couldn't afford to get attached to him again.  

On the other hand, they were married. She could sleep with him, using him only for sex.

So, she could have one night stand with her own husband. He'd kissed her earlier, and said he wanted her, obviously trying to get into her knickers. But she needed to cast a diagnostic spell on him first to make sure there would be no risk of venereal disease. He didn't seem to leave the house much except to go to the ministry, but she didn’t trust him. For all she knew, he might as well be spending his afternoons fucking half London. With the promiscuous husband she had, it was quite likely. 

No, the problem was that Draco had a habit of clinging after sex. Cuddling. Holding her. That was the part she couldn't and didn't want to deal with.  

If she was going to sleep with him, it would have to be on her terms. And on his territory.

Draco 

That fucking party was endless, Draco thought.  

And Hermione kept sending confusing signals to him.  

She was mute during that kiss, after the Weasley situation.  
And she ignored him after that. 

But when midnight came, shortly afterwards, and he bent her down for the traditional kiss, she practically snogged him, earning howls and catcalls from the surrounding guests and leaving Draco panting, aching for more. 

Then she disappeared among the guests, and now he could see Comarc-fucking-laggen leading her onto the dance floor. 

Was today her ex-boyfriends' national day or something? 

He barely waited for the last note to sound and tapped the wizard on the shoulder, cutting in with a grimace and taking her in his arms. 

The first time they'd danced it had been impossible for him not to stare at her cleavage. Now it was worse, the kiss still on his mind, the fact that McLaggen had had this vision only seconds ago infuriating him.  

He squeezed her waist tightly as they danced, glancing from time to time at her cleavage and biting his tongue to avoid some idiotic action. 
Like lowering his mouth and biting them right there. 

If Hermione noticed anything, she didn't say. In fact, at the end of the dance, when he sent decorum to hell and held her closer than he should have, rubbing his not at all discreet erection against her, he'd swear he heard a faint moan. 

As soon as the music ended, she looked up at him and said in a loud voice, audible to everyone around. 
"I'm exhausted, Draco. Would you kindly accompany me to my room?" 

He didn't understand: Hermione was clearly awake, her eyes glowing. But he didn't question it either. Assenting, they set off, stopping to chat with guests along the way and explaining that his wife, six months pregnant after all, was tired from the festivities. 

They walked up the stairs in silence. But when Draco passed the door to his room, she stopped.  

He stepped forward, and she took his hand, pulling him back to herself, bringing one of her hands to his neck and kissing him. 

Draco thought his chest was going to explode with happiness. He held her tight, wanting to pass everything he felt, everything he regretted, everything he wanted into that kiss.  

He pressed her against the door, pulled her hair back, exposing her neck, and with the other he pulled her breasts out of the dress.
He didn't even mind her slight wimp. Those breasts had teased him all night and they were going to pay for it. 

They were huge, full, glorious, and he wanted them both at the same time. He let go of her hair and brought them together in a squeeze, biting and licking from one to the other, Hermione moaning loudly and rubbing herself against him like a naughty slut.
Just like she did before.
He was in ecstasy.  

He groped to open the bedroom door, pushed her inside and began to rip open her dress.  

"Wait!" She pushed him away, but he grabbed her waist in desperation. Was this her idea of revenge? Leave him in that state and bail out after? If it was, kudos to her because it was fucking torture.  

But he wasn't going to let her. He launched himself at her neck, sucking hard, fondling her tits, and she spoke, between moans.
"Stop it.... Stop it, Draco." 

He gave in, unwillingly, but didn't take his hands off her waist. 

"I just need to do one thing first." 
And she pulled her wand from the sleeve of her dress and muttered a series of sentences, making words and numbers in green appear in the air out of nowhere, as if suspended in an invisible painting. 
 
She ran her hand through them, flipping through the information until she found what she wanted, reading concentrating. 

"Okay, we are clear. Go on". 

"What the hell was that?" he asked, dumbfounded. 

"A standard diagnosis’ spell. I needed to check you out first". 

"Check...what?". 

When he finally understood, he let go of her immediately. 

"Who do you take me for, Granger?" 

"Do you really want to know?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't act so coy, Draco. I know first hand that you are promiscuous. I happen to need you right now. So, we can stay here with you pretending to be offended by the obvious or, we can pick up where we left off."  

He looked at her, lost. But she was already taking off what was left of her dress and stood there in just white, lacy panties and bra, her belly round with their child, her hair messy and her mouth swollen. 
Before he could make a decision she made for him. She got down on her knees and opened his belt, moving everything out of the way until she literally enfolded his cock in her mouth. 

That was enough to make him lose control. He threaded his fingers through her hair and started fucking her mouth, while she moaned and rubbed her clit in his feet. 

He released her suddenly and joined her on the floor, kicking his trousers out of the way as he climbed on top of her, sucking on one hard nipple, the other hand going down and straight into her cunt. 

And fuck, she was dripping.
He was shocked when only a few seconds later she was already cumming, squeezing both his fingers inside her, fucking herself in it. 

She opened her eyes afterwards, and looked at him before saying in a husky voice, "more." 

He kissed her desperately. He needed to fuck her at once, but if he started he knew it wouldn't last long; it had been so fucking long. He decided to lower his face and eat her out until she came again, her hips bucking against his face, hands gripping his hair, his fingers inside her and his mouth sucking and biting her clit.  

He waited for her to come down, but that was as much as he could hold back. He had already waited too long, and gave her no time at all before he climbed on top of her and thrust deep and hard, all at once. 

He groaned deeply at the contact, and lifted one of her legs against his chest, his hands went to her ass, angling her. 

"Shit, I missed this. I missed your tight cunt, and your slutty moans. Fuck, love, I won't last”. 

She moaned at his words, as always, and started trying to help, fucking herself into him. 

When he felt she was almost cumming again, he let go one of his hands and started circling her clit, alternating with pinching it, and when she started screaming he spoke to her again.  

"I need you to cum again, Minx. Be the little fucking whore that I know you are for me and milk my cock" that was enough for her to cum, screaming, he going soon after her with a loud scream.   

Draco rolled onto his side, satisfied, smiling. He reached out his arm to her, but Hermione was already getting up before he could finish the movement. 

She gathered her clothes, shoe and wands and marched to the door. Before she could reach it he called out, confused.  

"Hermione! Where are you going?" 

"To my room, obviously."  

He stood up and walked over to her quickly, and put a hand on her shoulder to turn the witch towards himself. 

"You can stay, you know".  

"I know, but I don't want to. I came here just to fuck you, and now I need to rest. Good night, Draco."  

And she left, closing the door behind her without even looking back.

Chapter Text

“Fuck! Keep going love, fuck!". 

He was lying on his bed, with Granger riding him, one of his arms behind his head, the other squeezing her breasts. 

He loved that. Her riding him, taking what she wanted, while he enjoyed the sight and talk dirt to her. 
He twisted one of her nipples and she quickened the pace, moaning loudly. 
The last few weeks had increased his stamina. After that first encounter she came back every night, sometimes when he'd barely entered his room, sometimes when he was already asleep - in that nights, his favorites,!she'd wake him up in the best ways. 

But she never stayed.   

She would come, they would fuck, and she would never stay. And she barely acknowledged his existence outside the room either. 

He was going crazy. He'd end up depressed or an alcoholic if things went on like this.
But at least he'd be well fucked. 

He had to do something.

Hermione 

It was a Tuesday, the last of the month, when Hermione opened her office door and had a strong sense of deja vu.
There was no furniture there. Again. 

Already knowing the culprit this time she went straight to his office. 

Draco was there, sitting at his desk and opening the letters that had arrived this morning. 
And of course, opposite to his desk was hers. 

He was so focused on his reading that he didn't even notice her opening the door. 

"Draco. Draco!" 

"Hermione. Hi!" She still had to get used to her husband smiling, not growling, in her direction.  

"Draco, why on earth did you bring my things here? Again?" 

He walked over to her and took one of her hands. 

"I miss you during the day, Hermione. And I worry about you, with the end of the pregnancy coming. Please indulge me here" he kissed her hand. 

"And you didn't think to ask my opinion before?" 

He smiled at her with the corner of his mouth "I thought it better to ask for your pardon than permission, since you have a strong temperament but a caring heart”.  
 
She started to reply but he brought up another subject, quickly, surely to distract her: 

"Now, there is something I need to talk to you about. Blaise has just written to me with a personal request: he’s about to propose a serious courtship to a witch from his country, but he didn't want to move forward without our input." 

He ran a hand through his hair before going on: "Blaise lost his father early. And his mother is very... absent. Since last year, he got used to in rely on my mother's opinion on a lot of things. And I’m his only married friend, then you can understand why our opinion is important to him”.

“He want to schedule a dinner to ‘official introduce her’ to us this weekend, and proposed to do it at his house, but he wants you to attend - and we know that it would be better if you didn’t travel. I’m sorry to ask you this, since I don't want to burden you, but it would he okay if we hosted the dinner here?"

Hermione didn’t need to think: "Sure. I like Blaise. He's always been friendly-"

"More than friendly," he snorted.

"-to me. And it's no trouble at all. Would you like to schedule it for this Saturday?" 

He smiled at her and deposited a kiss on her cheek "Only if you're absolutely right." 

She just nodded. 

"Perfect then. I'll write to him. Let me know if you need help with anything." 
 
Hermione didn't want to deal with an argument about the studio right now. And she could always do her work in the library, if he disturbed her. So she went to her desk and went about her work, noticing the smiles Draco gave her from time to time.

 
The week passed normally. 

They were having breakfast in the dining room on Saturday morning, quietly, when an owl swooped into the room, leaving a letter in Draco's lap. 

"Draco!" Admonished Narcisa. "You know my opinion about working at the table!!!" 

"I know, Mother" he said, unwrapping the letter. "It must be something urgent." 

And he read the letter, his eyes running over the correspondence. "Fuck!" 

"Draco! Language!" 

"Sorry mother. I need to address this matter now." He lowered his head and pulled at his hair in a rare display of desperation. 

Narcisa looked at him worriedly. 

"Has something happened?" 

"No. It's just Theo" he said, looking at Hermione out of the corner of his eye. 
She knew it was something to do with her, and now she just needed to know. 

"Just tell us, Draco. What happened?" 

He looked at her and bowed his head. 

"Theo invited himself to dinner tonight. He came to me a while ago, saying that Astoria wanted to make amends toward us. I wasn't paying much attention, and agreed without thinking. Now they want to come tonight" he closed his face. 

"Out of the question! I will not accept that… that harlot in our table!" Narcisa roared, to which Draco nodded.  

"I know. I'm going to answer right now! It's not-" 

Hermione interrupted: "I think they should come”. 

Draco and her mother-in-law looked at her as if she was a talking hippogriff, but she shrugged: 
"They are from your society. We will have to meet them sooner or later, since Theodore is a personal friend of Draco's. And it's not as if he gave in to her charms. I trust you wouldn't sleep with her under our roof at least, right husband?" She finished sarcastically. 

To her satisfaction, he blushed to the roots of his hair. "Of course not! I don't have the slightest interest in Astoria”. 

“Well, there is something, at least” she said acidly. 

"Hermione dear, I think that-" 

"No, Narcisa. We'll have to meet her sooner or later, and I'd rather do it on my home. Send an owl saying they're welcome, Draco”. 

"Not at all! Have I no say in the matter?" He returned, angry. 

"No, you don't! You seem to have availed yourself of the Grengrass sisters' opinion and advice before. I had to receive them without being able to have an opinion. Now it is your turn if you do the same!" 

And she lifted her chin, stressing her firmness on the matter. 

Draco sighed, annoyed. "Okay, Hermione. If you insist." 

"I do." 

Hermione was ready when Draco knocked on the door.  

Wendy had helped her get dressed in her long maroon dress: Elegant and invoking Gryffindor colors, it was perfect for the occasion.  
She would need her Gryffindor courage tonight. 

She and Narcisa had arranged at the table in the traditional way, so that Hermione would be next to the boys while Draco would have to deal with Astoria.  

His bad luck, she thought, smiling. 

Blaise's intent would also be next to him, so he could judge the witch. And as Narcisa refused to stand near Astoria, so she would stand between Theo and said intent, facing Daphne.  

Hearing the knock, Hermione took a deep breath and walked out the door; she had barely closed it behind her when Draco greeted her. 

"You look wonderful, Hermione". 

She just nodded, indicating that she had heard him, and put her arm in his. 

They were walking down the stairs when he decided to speak "Astoria and I. We don't have anything, Hermione. I never wanted anything serious with her." 

"Neither with me, but here we are" she said, and he started to retort but she held up one of her hands.  

"What you need to do, Draco, if this is really true - and don't be surprised if I don't believe it - is to make your lack of interest very clear to her. I guarantee that if she  tries anything it's because she still sees you as a possibility”. 

He just nodded, mute. 

They walked to the entrance hall, where Narcisa already was, just in time: a few seconds later, the elf butler was guiding Theo, Daphne and Astoria into the room. 

Theo was the first to greet them, with his usual politeness. Daphne followed him, addressing everyone shyly and politely, including Hermione.  
She even greeted her by her correct title. 

Astoria tried to do the same, but her contempt for Hermione was so great that she stammered at the title of Lady Malfoy. Hermione looked her up and down before nodding in response, and smiled amused when Astoria tried to kiss her husband's cheek just to be  pushed off by him.  
Then, she tried to effusively greet Narcisa, who basically turned her face away, ignoring her. 

The evening would be fun, she thought. 

Theo engaged Draco in a conversation about politics until the elf returned, moments later, bringing Blaise and his wannabe bride.  

An extremely familiar witch. Hermione's height and body, light eyes and curly blonde hair.
Irina Strasser. 

Hermione felt more than saw Draco stiffing completely at her side.  
 
The witch greeted Hermione courteously when Blaise introduced them, pretending not to know her. With Draco she was polite too, but Hermione's privileged position let her see how the witch brushed against her husband chest as she kissed his cheek, while Draco stood still like a statue. 

When it was Narcisa's turn, Hermione noticed her mother-in-law trembling with barely controlled rage, and she imagined that only the decades of manners and etiquette were keeping her from lashing out at the witch. 

Blaise didn't seem to notice anything much, but as soon as the greetings were over Draco addressed everyone. 

"My mother will escort you to the table. My wife and I" and she noticed an emphasis on the word wife "need to resolve an urgent matter." 

Without waiting for a reply he turned away, pulling Hermione into the nearest room and closing the door behind him.

"Fuck" he shouted, kicking a chair "Is every fucking wrong decision I've ever made in my fucking life going to haunt me forever? What's missing now? The ghost of dear Aunt Bela showing up in the fucking dining room?"  

And he kicked another chair.
Hermione stood still, watching in amazement his anger.
She supposed he wasn't with the witch anymore, but she thought it was only because she had caught them. He couldn't imagine that he had that much anger towards her. 

But, she thought, the woman had almost caused - unintentionally, of course - the loss of his son. Firstborn. Heir. At least that was important to people like him.
Yes, that must have been what the anger was about. 

She only realised that the outburst of anger had passed when he came to her, desperate, taking her face between his hands. 

"Hermione, you have to know that I didn't do this. I didn't know it was her. I didn't want her here."
She nodded, calm. That conclusion she had come to. 

He support his forehead against hers, and spoke with closed eyes and fists. 
"You want me to send them away? I will, this minute. I'll send them away. I don't want her here. I-"  

"What I want, Draco" she said, taking a step back "is exactly what I said before: whatever your loyalties are, you need to make them clear." 

He looked at her and nodded. 

"And I think" she finished, putting her hand in his arm and guiding him to the dinning room  "that you need to tell Blaise the truth".

Chapter Text

Hermione was having what she could only describe as wild enjoyment. 

Blaise was as charming as ever; Theo too, was him funny and sweet self. They told stories and anecdotes, asked her opinion on politics and society. 
Narcisa and Daphne took part in the conversation too, with Daphne, being respectful to Hermione. Friendly even.
She suspected there was a hand of Theo in this.
Narcisa was participating in the conversation with enthusiasm, playing the role of general mother, which Hermione noticed she did constantly when Draco's friends were involved.  

And she also probably wanted to ignore Irina, on her other side. 
 
But the source of her amusement was the opposite side, where her husband seemed increasingly grumpy. 

She didn't understand why: after all, he was flanked by two witches of his choice! 

It was fun to watch them both subtly competing for his attentions over dinner. And even more so to see that Astoria was starting to look at Irina, who she seemed to be friends with at first, with hate when she realised that the witch was trying to get Draco's attention as much as she was. 

But in the end of dinner Hermione had to intervene, as things seemed to be spiralling out of control: Irina blatantly ran her hand down Draco's arm, which made Astoria open her mouth in defiance, dumbfounded and annoyed, as Draco pulled his arm violently.  
  
Astoria looked at Irina with a murderous look, and out of respect for Blaise, to avoid a scene that would expose the whole thing in the worst way possible, she decided to intervene, drawing Astoria's attention to herself. 

Speaking loudly, to no one in specific, she started: 

"This apple tart is delicious! Narcisa, you need to give me some tips on how to lose weight after pregnancy, Merlin knows how I'm going to need help with that" she said, making Daphne and the boys laugh, amused by her joke.  

And, predictably, Astoria took the bait: she couldn't miss a chance to offend Hermione. Smiling, she turned to Hermione and began to distill her venom.  
 
“It's not like you had a proper body to begin with, Lady Malfoy. High society prefers slim, tall, long-limbed women, you know." 

Hermione just smiled and raised an eyebrow, sardonically. She opened her mouth to reply but Draco answered first. 

"Hermione has a wonderful body that no one could put faults in, Astoria, both before pregnancy and now. I've always preferred her body type over any other, and just for your information, most men think the same. I assure you, in no society would my wife's body be criticized.
And besides, everyone is aware of Lady Malfoy's great intellect and bravery. Even if her body were not perfect - which it is - that would be of little consequence, because my wife's content, the matter of which she is made, is infinitely superior." 

The table was silent after that.
When they rose to go to the blue room, Draco was the first to leave his seat, going in determined steps to Hermione, leaving no doubt as to who he would accompany. 

Draco  

Draco and the boys walked over to the card table but he couldn't concentrate. His gaze was drawn to Hermione all the time. 

He wanted to know what the witches were talking about. Things were hard enough with Hermione, all he didn't need at the moment was Irina or Astoria getting in the way of their relationship even more, saying something that might push Granger further away - if that was even possible.

It was as if Hermione had created a wall between them that he couldn't cross.  
Except in bed. Or on the floor. On the wall. In the bathroom. Wherever they fucked, she was the old Hermione again, raw, open, as voracious as he was.  

Other than that, she basically treated him like a bloody house elf.
Not really, because she was a friend of the elves. She treated him like he was nothing.  
A piece of furniture in the same house she lived in. 

He had read somewhere once that the opposite of love was not hate, but indifference, and he had thought it was a ridiculous romantic drivel.  
And it might have been, but it was correct drivel. 

From where Draco was seating, he could see that Hermione, his mother and Daphne seemed to monopolise the conversation, with Astoria and Irina sitting in front of them, facing the card table and Draco.  

Both witches were trying to attract his gaze; and if Astoria leaned over one more time to pick up the wand she ‘accidentally’ keep dropping, just to show off her breasts, she would probably get herself a lumbar hernia. 

As for Hermione, she didn't seem to feel his gaze fixed on her back. 

"Draco! Your turn!" Blaise said, frowning for the thousandth time. 
 
He looked away from the witches only for a few seconds to do his bidding, but in the short time something happened: Astoria seemed to have fainted.  
 
She was lying on her Daphne’s lap, being held by her sister, who was desperately slapping her, and crying. 

Narcisa called a house elf who came with salts, and in a few seconds the fainting witch, already revived, was weakly and feebly agreeing to his mother's polite and cold invitation to stay overnight. 
 
And what was even worse, Irina accepted the invitation too, which had not even been addressed to her, saying that she and Blaise were also grateful for the invitation and would love to stay to provide whatever was needed to help the 'poor Astoria'. 

Astoria had done that on purpose, he realised, exchanging glances with his mother.  She was already frowning, irritated, at Irina.  
But Daphne and Theo, who had rushed to help her, were already pouring themselves out in kindness and gratitude.  
There was nothing more to be done, so sighing Narcisa asked the elves to prepare rooms for all the five guests.

Draco closed his face, frowning, and noticed Blaise hiding his laughter beside him. 

Well, the night had already turned to hell anyway, he thought, looking at Hermione who wasn't showing any feeling at all.  
It was better to get it over with. 

"Theo" he called out loudly. "If you and Blaise can give me a minute, I need to talk to you in my office."

The friends had barely walked in and Draco was already pouring himself a glass of whiskey.   

Theo closed the door behind them and began  “Draco, I know Astoria behaved badly last time, so thank you again-”   

"You're too innocent, Theo," Blaise cut in, snorting. "Astoria is fine, she just pretended. She did that little show to stay the night here, and try to seduce Draco. Again."

"You think?" Theo paled, looking at Draco "if that's the case I-" 

"That's probably the case" Draco finished his whiskey and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, before pouring himself more "but it's not my biggest problem at the moment. I need to tell you something".  

He postured himself behind the desk, indicated the armchairs in front for his friends but didn't sit down. Running one hand through his hair, glass in the other, he looked at Blaise.  

"Your girlfriend. I slept with her." 

"What?" Theo shouted. "How, you weren't left alone for even one second! How?" 

"Not now, Theo. The thing is, I already slept with her" he didn't look away from Blaise. 

"Thanks Merlin, you got me confused her for a second. But why would that be relevant? It's her past. I don't think anyone here is virgin. I particularly remember you-"  

"It is relevant" Blaise began in a deadly loud tone "because Draco only met Irina when we went to Italy.  He's not telling us about the witch's past. He's telling us he's an adulterer. They're having an affair." 

Theo looked at him shocked, his jaw dropping. Draco lowered his head before nodding and correcting "we had. As in the past”. 

"Like it fucking matters. Does she know? Granger knows?" 

That made Draco raise his head and reply in a tone as acid as his friend's "it's Lady Malfoy for you. And yes, she knows." 

"You're a stupid son of a bitch, Malfoy! How the hell do you get the best witch in England and do this to her?" 

"I'm growing tired of your fixation with my witch, Blaise!" 

"I should say the same, since you fucked my girlfriend." 

"I don't want her! I don't want anything to do with her! She's a nothing compared to my wife"  

"Oh, the wife you left at home for her? You want to make a trade, Malfoy? I'll trade places with you in a heartbeat!" 

Draco's fist snapped towards his friend's face but Theo held him by the arm, and asked seriously:  

"How... how did Hermione know? Did you regret it? Did you tell her?"
Draco had never seen Theo look at him like that, so... disappointed.  

And he shook his head.  

"Irina and I were meeting in my London house. Hermione came by to me to tell me about the pregnancy, and catch me fucking her." 

A pinprick could have been heard in the office for a few seconds.   

Before Theo's fist smashed hard into Draco's nose. 

He wobbled and braced himself against the wall.  

 "How could you? I thought you were a decent man! A good wizard, just manipulated by his father like me. But no, you're made of the same scum! You're married to Hermione Granger, Draco! What more do you want, the fucking muggle queen?" 

He was shocked by his friend's outburst, and brought his hand to his bleeding nose, answering weakly. 

"No one else. I just want her." 

Blaise shook his head. "I take it from tonight's dinner that your mother is on Hermione's side, right? I'm going to offer them protection. Granger can stay in Italy, in one of my estates, as long as she wants". 

Draco saw red "Why the fuck every time I turn around someone wants to take her away from me?" 

"Because you're a shitty husband who only knows how to treat badly and cheat on the best thing that ever happened to you" Blaise shouted back. 

"I fucking love her! I'm in love with her, Blaise!"  

That silenced the room. 

He slumped in his chair. "In one way or another, I've always been... aware of her. The Yule ball. The slap. I don't know, she wasn't something I could want you know... and when the chance came I wanted it. I jumped into that circle with my eyes wide open. And then I resented her, like I had no choice. But was she who didn't" he summoned the bottle, poured more whiskey and propped the glass against his bleeding nose before continuing. 
 
“I didn't know how to handle it all. I didn't want to be lord Malfoy, I didn't want a position on the council and I didn't want to get married. But I'll kill anyone to see that person take my witch from me" he looked seriously at Blaise. 

"And what are you going to do now?" His friend asked, in a nicer tone than Draco had seen him use to talk to him months ago. 

He just shook his head "I don't know, Blaise. She barely notices me outside the bedroom. I just wanted to erase all that shit and get my witch back. And I'm sorry, Blaise."
 
"Don't worry about it. There wasn't much feeling between us, she just seemed a good prospect. Since she invited herself to stay here, and I imagine you don't want to create a scene, I think it's more prudent for us to stay. But we're leaving first thing tomorrow morning, and Granger won't have to see her again. Okay?" 

Draco nodded, grateful, but corrected "It’s Malfoy".  

Blaise smiled before repeating "Malfoy”. 
 
Theo shook his head and put his hand on the handle, starting to open the door, but Draco stood up:
 
"Theo, wait!" He took a deep breath before continuing "since you guys are here, I need to ask a favour.

Chapter Text

When they returned to the living room, Theo went straight to Hermione's side, pulled up a chair - giving Draco his back - and proceeded to talk to his wife.

Draco was proud to see Theo finally standing up for something, but he'd rather if it wasn't against him. 

Blaise slapped him on the back in solidarity and went to stand beside Narcisa, clearly avoiding Irina. 
It was good to have his friend back to his side, Draco thought; he just wondered if his recently actions would be enough to do the same with his wife.  
 
Said wife was talking with Theo, a big smile on her face. Draco payed attention and deduced they were talking about muggle literature. Hell, he'd make a fucking ward for muggle literature in their library if she even looked at him like that. He lowered his head, thoughtfully, only to hear light footsteps approaching.
 
Draco raised his head, hopeful, only to find the wrong pair of eyes staring at him. 

"It seems your elves are taking a little too long to arrange the quarters for poor Astoria, Mr. Malfoy" she said smiling. 

‘Poor Astoria’ was trying madly to get attention, but now from his mother, while Narcisa blatantly ignored her.  
  
"You're right. I'll sort it out immediately" Draco got up and left.  
The quicker they all went to sleep, the better.  

But he hadn't even left the corridor when he heard footsteps behind him. 

"I'll walk with you" Irina spoke, smiling and projecting her cleavage towards him. 

He stopped where he was "I don't think that's necessary". 

"I can help you".

"You don't know the house". 

She laughed, amused. 

"Don't be like that, Draco dear! You know very well that this is just a excuse for is to have a few moments alone!" 

"I don't want 'moments alone' with you" he said, angrily, between his teeth. 

"That's not really what I remember. I remember several pleasurable moments for both of us at my parents' house... and at yours. Is it my turn to go down on you, or is it yours? It was a recurring activity of ours in the hallways, from what I remember..." she ran her hand across his chest.

He held her arm and pushed it away.  

"Don't you have the slightest bit of decorum? Your own boyfriend is inside that door" he hissed. 

"So what? When we started our relationship, you were already married, darling. Who are you to talk about decorum?" 

He looked at her in disgust, and she must have noticed, because her coquettish gaze changed on the spot. 

She stared at him appraisingly, "Well, I'm sorry you're no longer interested, but don't think that simply discarding me is a possibility, Draco. No one has ever done that, and you won't be the first! I have pictures of us, darling. Think what a scandal it would be if I revealed them to the Prophet if you keep on snubbing me”.

It was Draco's turn to laugh out loud. "Be my guest. I doubt those photographs even exist, but if it does releasing it would do more harm to you than to me. My wife already knows. No one else matters to me." 

"Society-" 

"Also already knows. Lord Burke himself came to tell me. It's amazing how fast bad news travels." 

"Sorry dear, but I had to tell him. You were very rude, leaving me like that. I just couldn't let it go without any consequences”. 

Draco didn't think he could hate the witch any more, but he was surprised. 

"You're the one who told? You-" 

"You will realise, Draco dear, that it is far better to be in my good graces than to face me. I like you, and I think we could have a great partnership, both in bed and financially... a witch has to support herself, right?! 
I imagine you've already told Zabini about us, so I might be forced to leave tomorrow morning. But if I were you, Draco, I'd think long, long and hard before you snubbed me again. As you have seen, it does not come without consequences." 

She moved closer to him and kissed his cheek, speaking into his ear, "You have until tomorrow morning, dear”. 

"Everything alright here?" Hermione came up behind Irina, frowning. 

"Hermione! Yes, everything's fine!” He said, pushing the witch out of him.

He couldn't believe that Hermione had arrived just now, before he could pushed Irina out of him. 
Merlin certainly hated him.
 
“The elves seem to be taking their time tidying up the guest rooms. Will you accompany me to check if everything is alright?” And before Hermione could refuse he almost ran the remaining steps towards her and dragged her by the arm. 

The scourge of his life, Irina, followed them the whole way.
At least, when they reached the guest rooms and saw that they were ready, he had the satisfaction of showing her which room would be her before slamming the door in her face, leaving the witch there. 

Draco took quick steps back to the room, practically dragging Hermione with him again. 

He stopped her at the blue rooms’ door, which he didn't even enter, before saying  aloud "the rooms are ready. You will excuse us but we are tired. Good night" and before anyone could say anything he slammed that door as well, and took quick steps down the hallway.
 
When he realised that Hermione was letting go of his arm and going straight to her room, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to him. 

Running a hand over her face he brought her close, and brought their foreheads together, asking in a low voice. "Please, Hermione. Please. Let me sleep with you tonight. Just tonight. I need to know that you're okay. That you're here. It won't change anything. You can ignore me again tomorrow. Nothing has to happen. You don't even have to talk to me or look me in the face. I just want, I just need to have you close”. 

She pulled away and looked at him for a while, thinking, before nodding in agreement.  

Draco quickly guided them into her   room, not stoping in his even to change his clothes; he was to afraid that Hermione could change her mind and closed her door for him.  

What a hell of a night, he thought, kicking off his shoes and pulling at his hair. 

Hermione 
 
Hermione awoke in the early hours of the morning to two things. 

The first, an extremely loving husband possessively embracing her, limbs splayed over hers as if he wanted to pin her there.
The second, a noise in the next room. 

The first thing was not surprising. She didn't like sleeping with Draco for exactly that reason. He blurred the lines all the time, but during  the night it was worse. 

If they were going to spend their lives together they needed rules.
Sex she could accept. In fact, she wanted it, badly. 
But not intimacy. Not ever. Never again.  

The second thing was perhaps also quite predictable. Astoria seemed to be really tenacious.
"Malfoy."  

"Hun???" He nuzzled his nose in her hair, sighing happily, sleepily. 

"I believe Astoria is in your room"
He was silent for a few seconds, probably listening, and in the silence she heard it again: footsteps and noises in the next room. 

He grunted, "What does she want now?" 

She shrugged “Maybe your underwear, to perform a spell that makes you fall for her".  

He moved behind her suddenly "Is that possible?" 

She shrugged "according to the muggles, yes". 

He hugged her waist tightly "she can charm my entire wardrobe and it won't change a thing. The only witch I want is you". 

Hermione froze in his arms. She hated when he did that. It was cruel. First because she had wanted this in the beginning, an open, caring, loving relationship, and just now he was giving it to her? 

And secondly because it wasn't real. He was just making up for the betrayal - probably because she was pregnant and he didn't want to stress her out. 

Feeling her stiffen, Draco pressed her even tighter against himself:
"Hermione, I need to talk to you. We need to talk. This way that-" 

"I think-" she interrupted what she knew would be a speech full of lies "-that if Astoria wants to spend the night in your room, we should put on a show for her."  

"What?” Draco asked confused as she turned around, bending herself awkwardly and positioned her face close to his cock.  

She rubbed her face against him for a few minutes "please, Malfoy" she said, her voice husky, rubbing what she could of her body against his "cast a sonorus spell, okay?". 

And she engulfed him with her mouth. He cast the spell quickly, seeing merit in her idea, and Hermione smiled.  
She spent the next several minutes working on him; her jaw ached, but she didn't stop, sucking him slowly and steadily, fondling his balls, all in a slowest, languidly pace. And it was working: he, who was always quite sensitive and vocal in bed, struggled from side to side, moaned, grunted, buried his fingers in her hair, pulled... and spoke. 

"Fuck, Granger"

"Yeah, like this..."

"Merlin, don't stop”

"Fuck, you suck me so good”

"My little whore...”

"Let me fuck you now, I can't take it anymore ... please, please baby ... let me fuck you”.

But she didn’t stop; Hermione was loving every second of having him like this, at her mercy, and the fact that Astoria heard every moan she extract from here was wonderful revenge.  

"Fuck, I'm going to cum in your mouth... take it, take it, swallow it all... ahh"

She did as he asked, smiling satisfiedly to herself, before throwing her body back onto the bed.
But as she lay down and he stood in his knees.  

"What?" 

"Shhhh" he kissed her, longingly, before he lowered himself between her legs, smiling, "Now is my turn."  

He did the same thing as her: he went down on her but slowly, torturing, extracting every moan, every sigh. 

She, who was already worked up, lost control quickly. Before long the tongue on her clit and the fingers going in and out of her cunt in a slow rhythm left her sobbing. 

"Please... please Draco".   

He lifted his face, not stopping his fingers "Please what, dear?” 

"Let me cum... please, make me cum"
 
"My whore want to cum? But I've barely started... I haven't even played here yet" and he stuck the tip of one finger, soaked from her juices, in her ass. 

She screamed and sobbed. 

 Draco
 
His wife was a genius, Draco thought, as he ate her out. He didn't know if Astoria was still there, but he was sure the witch would never try something like that again if she was really listening to them. 

If she compared the sounds, Astoria would clearly realise that the sex between them had never been like it was between him and Hermione. 

N experience in his life compared to Hermione. Not that the others were bad. They were just kind of... normal?  

And Hermione... Salazar, Hermione. She had sucked him basically torturing him every step of the way. It had been heaven.
She was perfect. How could she be the prettiest, the smartest, most educated, empathetic, the lady his mother wanted in society... and a complete slut in bed? 

It was no wonder that everywhere he turned someone wanted her. She was fucking perfect. 

"Please Draco, please... please Sir... I want... I need"  

Fuck, that 'sir' went straight for his 'cock'. But now it was her turn. She was just going to relax and enjoy it. 

He lifted his face, took his fingers from her - earning a frustrated moan - only to squeeze her nipples, making her cry out. 

"Tell me who you belong to. Tell me you're mine and I make you cum, Hermione". 

She threw her face from side to side, her hips undulating against the air as he kept squeezing and releasing her nipples, and slipped his knee between her legs, where she began to rub herself frantically. 

"Look at you, rubbing yourself against my leg like a bitch in heat ... like a slut ... like a goddess ... just talk, Hermione ... tell me you're mine, and I'll make you scream, babe". 

She choked back a sob and nodded:

”Okay, Draco... okay... I'm yours". 

He pinched her nipples even harder "I didn't hear right". 

"I'm yours" she screamed, and he began to spin the tittle buds as he fucked her with his knee. 

Not Weasley's? Not Blaise's?” 

"No! No, Draco, no..." 

"Only mine?" 

"Only yours" she nodded, eyes closed. 

He spanked her clit and she bawled.  

"Damn right. You're mine. All mine. Your body is mine. This tits are mine. This cunt is mine. Your ass is mine. You are my wife, my whore, my slut" he kept talking while two fingers were already working on her, hammering her cunt hard. 

He didn't know where it came from but he needed that. Now he could always see her there, sprawled on the bed, wanton, wanting him, saying she was his... 

He licked a finger from his other hand and began to stimulate just the entrance of her ass, and lowered his head to her clit. 

The first stroke of his tongue was enough and she started to cum, screaming, bucking her hips against his face. He removed his hand from behind and began to stroke himself, hard and fast, and she hadn't even finished cumming when he followed her, soiling the sheets with his seed.  

He lay down next to her, not even caring about the mess, and sighed happily. She was already turning to the opposite side, reaching for a wand to cancel the sound spell.  

After a few seconds she decided to speak suddenly, "nice touch that possessive talk. I bet Astoria will back off a bit now". 

He looked at his wife's back. Hair messy, negligee slumped over her shoulders, no panties... 

His. 

Cold as a block of ice now, but his.  
 
And she had left him there tonight, so he would enjoy every second of it.
He clung behind her and slipped an arm around her round waist, breathing in the scent of her neck before answering: 

"I hope so. But the 'possessive talk,' like you said, wasn't for her benefit. It was for mine. You're mine, Hermione. Mine. I can't bear the thought of losing you. Even my friends want you-”  

She snorted "Blaise is just-"  

"Blaise is just a son of a bitch. He's my friend, and you're mine. Only mine. I'm not sharing you, and I'm not going to lose you. I can't think about the idea of you away without going crazy. I... I lo-" 

She let out a loud 'goodnight', interrupting him suddenly.  
 
Draco stared at her back for a few minutes and decided enough was enough.
He hadn't forced the issue, he had respected her icy silences and rigid posture for weeks.  
Months. 
 
And go figure when he would have an opening with her again.
It was now or never.
 
"Hermione, we need to talk. Now." 

Chapter Text

Hermione felt apprehension welling up in her chest, which was totally irrational. 

She had no reason to fear a conversation with him. But in truth, she didn't even need to talk to her husband. Without deigning to look at him, she replied: 

"From what I remember, when you asked to stay here today you said that we didn't need to do anything. That I didn't even need to look at your face or talk to you. So, you can stay here keeping your word or go to Astoria in your room. The choice is yours." 

He seemed to control his anger, taking a deep breath behind her before speaking again. 

"Okay. I really said that. And you don't have to talk to me, but can you just see something, please?"  

She felt him rise from the bed, heard his footsteps stop and then resume, to sit, still naked, by her side, holding a little bottle in which memories spiraled. 

"Just look at this, please, Granger.
And then you decide if we talk, if I stay in your room or not." 

He was holding the bottle, his eyes pleading and appealing to her curiosity.  
And Hermione was indeed curious. 

On the one hand, she wanted to deny it and throw him out at once; on the other, it was always good to know what her husband was up to.

There was nothing Draco could show her that would change their relationship, anyway.  

So she nodded, sitting up awkwardly - she was nearly eight months pregnant, after all - and covering herself with a sheet as best she could while he called Pod to bring a pensieve.  

The elf had barely set the silver basin down between them and Draco was already shoving the vial into her hands, anxious.   

Sighing deeply, Hermione popped the cork and poured the memories into the pensieve, placing her face in it.    
 
She was transported to Draco's office, where he was sitting in a chair, thanks to Merlin.  
Memory or no memory, she didn't want to go around gyrating her huge belly, covered only by a sheet.  

Next to Draco in another chair was Blaise; Theo was standing next to them, drawing his wand, and by the clothes of the three Hermione could tell that the scene had taken place that very night. 

Draco raised one of his hands and faced Blaise, who nodded, taking Draco's hand in one of his own.  

And when Theo put the tip of his wand on their entwined hands, Hermione knew on the spot what was happening: they were making an unbreakable vow!

“Will you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, respect your wife, Hermione Jean Malfoy, and have and hold her, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?” 
 
"I will," said Draco.
 
The expected brilliant wire of flame surged from Theo’s wand and wrapped itself around their hands. 
 
“And you promise and covenant to be loving and faithful to your wife, in plenty and in want, in joy and in sorrow, as long as we both shall live?”  
 
"I will," said Draco again.

Another thread of fire came out of Theo’s wand and intertwined with the former, forming a chain around the hands of Draco and Blaise. 
 
“Do you promise to love and comfort her, honor and care for her, and forsaking all others, you will be hers alone as long as you both shall live?”
 
"I will," said Draco, one more time.

The third flaming wire joined the others, forming a thick and bright chain, which after a few seconds vanished, freeing the hands of the two wizards.  
 
Hermione was thrown out of the memories and looked at her husband in shock.

"You made a vow?"

He shrugged "since we didn't get the chance to proclaim vows at our wedding, I thought it appropriate.

"But... but you made an unbreakable vow! Do you have any idea what that entails?"

He snorted "Of course I do".

"And why on earth did you do that then?"
She couldn't understand him!

Draco took one of her hands between his own before saying

"So that you understand that I am serious. That I want to love and be with you every step of the way; that I do not and will not seek out anyone else. That I love you, Hermione Jean Granger, and I am willing to die if I do not honor my promises to you.

She withdrew her hands as if they would catch fire, stood up and replied angrily, "I don't want a slave, Draco!"

He looked confused, "And I am not your slave, I am your husband. I-"

"The fact that you made a vow, binding yourself to me shows that -" 

"I wanted to take those vows, Hermione! I wanted to prove that I love you!" He basically shouted, and she went mute. 

Draco Malfoy obviously didn't love her. The mere thought of something like that was ridiculous.

"No, you don't!"

He let out a bitter laugh "You may know more than I do about any other subject in this world, darling, but not about my feelings! I fucking love you! I loved you as a teenager, when I knew I couldn't have you" and he started walking towards her "and I loved you when you were in that magic circle, sad and afraid and I wanted to be your saviour" he came close and put one of his hands on her face "I'm an asshole, but I loved you every step of the way here, Hermione. And I don't think I can stop."

Her heart almost leapt out of her chest, but she knew it wasn't true. It couldn't be.

"If you loved me, you wouldn't have humiliated me. You wouldn't have despised me, belittled me, betrayed me."

"I know. I said, I'm an idiot. I didn't want that bond, I didn't want those responsibilities and my way of rebelling was to punish you. But there isn't a bloody day when I don't regret it: if I could, Granger, given the chance, I would change everything. I know I can't, so all I can do is ask you this: will you forgive me, love? Please, forgive me. You saw how serious I am about us; you saw my vows. I will never betray you again, I will never stop loving and caring for you. So I ask you, Granger," and his hand on her face moved, the palm resting on her chin, the thumb caressing her cheek, "forgive me? Let me at least try to be the man you deserve?"

It was so good to have him there, caressing her.
Promising her the world. 

But better than that was the feeling of revenge. It was knowing that he was there, lying at her feet, begging for her. 

And for that, for being hurt beyond repair; for not being a person inclined to second chances; and for loving every second of her husband's more than deserved humiliation, she didn't even hesitate before responding:  

"No, Draco. I don't forgive you." 

Draco

He was completely speechless.

"But... Hermione... why?"

She let out a bitter laugh, "Oh, you thought those vows would make me forgive you?"

"Kind of yes!" Surprise was replaced by frustration, "I stated that I want you. That I will love and respect you! I've staked my life on that! What more do I need to do to make you forgive me, Granger?"

"Nothing. Unless you use a time turner and go back to before you treated me like shit, I won't forgave you."

He wanted to tear his hair out, "You know that's impossible! Time turners don't exist anymore."

She smiled, cruel: "Exactly.
So now you can go back to your room: I don't think Astoria is there yet, you're safe”. 

And she put the pensieve on the bedside table and turned to sleep, but he came to her side, holding her arm:

"Please, Hermione. I don't want our life to be like this forever. I don't want you hating me. I love you, and I just proved that I would do anything for you. Tell me what else I can do, and I will. I'll do anything for you to give me a chance, Granger. A chance for me to prove how good I can be to you. How good we can be together”.

She released his arm and looked up at him with a triumphant smile, "If you only knew how much I wanted to hear that from you at first. Well, it's too late now, darling, that ship has sailed. I'm very happy with our relationship as it is: you in your corner, me in mine, and we fuck when we have to. I don't want anything more than that!"   

He opened his mouth but didn't know what to say, and she continued:  

"You took that vow because you wanted to. I've never asked you for anything, and I'm not going to start now. Didn't you say you didn't want our bond? That you refused to accept it? Well, now I'm the one who won't accept it! I may be forced to live with you, and with this bond, but I refuse to accept it in my heart. I refuse to accept you!" And she turned away, wrapping herself in the sheet and closing her face, clearly dismissing him.   

Draco didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to react to her speech. He knew it would be difficult but he had some hope that the vote would show her how serious he was about her. 
But it turned out that, from the looks of it, she didn't give a damn about it.
 
Lowering his voice to an almost inaudible volume, as if that would make the risk of rejection smaller, he asked.

 "Can I... can I at least stay here today?"

She didn't even deign to turn to him. "Obviously not. You said you wouldn't bother me and you disregarded that. It's past time you learned that actions have consequences. I want you out now."

Chapter Text

Hermione woke up sore in all the right places, which brought a smile to her face. 
Until last night came back to memory, and she remembered exactly why she was so physically satisfied.  
Irina and Astoria at the mansion. Draco sleeping in her bed.  
Astoria in his room. 
The sex.
The vow. 
The discussion. 
 
She stood up and changed quickly, not wanting to think about what had happened

Especially about the vow.
Why the hell had he taken that vow, committing himself to her?  

She would have to watch the memory again and look for the loophole. It was Draco Malfoy: surely he had used some trick, some ruse.  

She would look closely at how he phrased the whole thing...he surely did it in a way that allowed him to get around the vow. She knew he had done it only to trick her.
That was it, for sure. It was the only possible explanation.  

After all, he couldn't be being sincere... he couldn't really love her... could he? 

She shook her head, pushing the thought away. Of course not. They were blurring the lines again.  
She wasn't going to allow him in her bed again.  

She walked out into the corridor and downstairs for breakfast, when Irina intercepted her.  

"Lady Malfoy! Good morning!" 

Hermione knew the witch wanted to tease her somehow. After all, the witch was in the family ward, probably waiting for her. 
Or for Draco.

So she kept her smile cold and polite, embodying the perfect hostess. 

"Good morning, Miss Strasser". 

"I got lost, looking for a path that would lead to the gardens. I so wanted to see them! Will you accompany me?" 

The witch was all fake kindness, and in the same politely manner Hermione declined. 

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm in the last trimester of pregnancy, and I can't push myself without a proper meal, hence why I'm heading to the breakfast table. If you'll excuse me" she began to sidestep the witch. 

"I wonder" Irina spoke again, and Hermione took a deep breath and forced herself to listen "if all the activity last night wasn't too exhausting for a woman in the late stages of pregnancy. Poor Astoria was shocked by the sounds she heard coming from your room yesterday, from what she told me".
 
"Astoria was near my room? I didn’t know!" Hermione feigned shocked ignorance "Well, I imagine there are always going to be surprises if you go around other people's houses in the middle of the night" she said smiling. 

"Or in your own house, in case you don't remember" it was Irina's turn to smile, and Hermione felt the blood drain from her face.  
She hadn't imagined the other would address the affair with Draco in such a direct manner. 

While she was silent, Irina continued, "I hope you know that Draco has to stay with you. He is only in this dotting husband role because of his heir, we all know that. After the children is born, Narcisa will raise it and you will be hidden away on some estate far away, where you belong. But be nice to me, and maybe I can convince dear Draco to let you visit the baby”.  

Her heart stopped. Would Draco take the baby away from her? He said no, but magical pregnancies were difficult, and hers was no exception.   
  
It made sense. That was the reason behind his behaviour, the reason for the vow - in which now she knew for sure he had cheated.  
 
Draco wasn't being honest, he wasn't sorry, he didn't love her.
He was acting out, creating a false state of security, only to take her child away from her later! Surely he and Irina were laughing behind her back all this time!
 
Hermione felt herself spiralling into a cloud of panic, and the last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was the other witch’s face above her. 
 

Draco
 
Draco woke up to the sound of a door slamming. 
More specifically, the next room’s door.  
Hermione's room.
And indeed, the sound was followed by hurried footsteps in the hallway.  

He sighed, running a hand over his face. 
Draco wasn't one to admit defeat, but it was hard to see any hope for Hermione and him. 
 
Not that he wanted her to throw herself at his feet after the vow, but he really thought she would soften a little after seeing what he did for her...  

Maybe he should try legilimency. Opening his mind to her might be enough for her to consider the idea of forgiving him. 
  
After a shower he calmly dressed, and headed to breakfast. If he'd been lucky, his mother would have sent the guests away by now. 

Though probably not, he thought, sighing. Narcisa would leave them there until Draco got rid of them, as a sort of punishment. 

When he entered the dinning room, his mother and Daphne were engrossed in conversation, as were Blaise and Theo at the other end of the table.
The other three witches were not there. 

"Good morning. Mother, has Hermione eaten yet?" 

Her mother smiled exuberantly in her direction, while Daphne looked away blushing. By the looks of it, Astoria had shared some version of what she heard last night with the witches. 

"No, dear. I thought you two would come down together." Narcisa smile grow even bigger. 

Draco made a mental calculation. It had been almost an hour since he had gotten up; Hermione should have shown up for breakfast long ago. 

"No, she left her room before me.
She didn't come by?" He asked worriedly, and at the same time his mother turned to observe Hermione's place at the table, which was untouched.   

Suddenly, Draco felt the blood drain from his face: with the whole thing with Astoria, he had forgotten about Irina's threat. She had given him until that very morning to look for him, and he hadn't done that.
Instead, he had fucked his wife in  a loud manner. For Irina, hearing about their night should have been answer enough. 
She wouldn't dare to cause Hermione harm... would she? 

"Astoria and Irina. Where are they?" He asked, serious. 

"Astoria is in her room, getting ready for us to leave..." replied Daphne. "Irina I don't know, she ate a while ago and left the room". 
 
Draco was already at the door before she finished speaking, followed by Theo and Blaise.  

Hermione

When Hermione regained consciousness, she was lying comfortably on a chaise in the pink room.
A room basically unused, given its distance from the common area of the house.
Odd. 

Wendy was on her side, and Irina standing nearby. She stood up  suddenly, her hand going straight to her stomach. 

"The lady is fine. The baby is fine" the elf said, patting her hand.
"The other lady called me. I'll look after you, ma'am" said the elf, her eyes watering. 

She nodded, and turned to Irina:
"What do you want?" Hermione said, coldly. It was obvious that she wanted something from Hermione. 

"I have nothing against you, Hermione. On the contrary. You are a war heroine. You are an admirable person. I'm just trying to do what's best for everyone involved" she sighed and pulled out of a bag she carried a pack of letters. 

"I don't think it's right for you to be without your baby. I really don't. And he will be half-blood anyway, any child of mine will have preference. So I think maybe you can leave with him, now. Draco would never find you, you're too smart for that." 

She placed the letters in Hermione's lap, wrapped in a red bow and a strong scent of perfume.  

"I know you are a voracious reader, so I recommend you hurry. Read the letters he sent me and decide if Draco is being truthful with you now. But hurry, soon he'll come after you. Or rather, after his heir" she gestured to Hermione's stomach, and walked to the door, leaving slowly. 

But Irina stopped before she left the room: 

"Can your elf point me the way out of this ward? I don't quite remember how I got us here." 

Hermione nodded distractedly and quickly opened the first letter, and began to read. 

Chapter Text

Hermione was on the third letter when she slowed her reading pace a little, confused.  
Okay, there were references to past and future encounters in there. One or two explicit passages, but it seemed more like Draco was responding to Irina comments: he even seemed shy. And being Draco Malfoy she was really sure that writing juicy sentences was not something he was familiar with.  
Before her he wasn't familiar with fellatio, for Merlin's sake!

 There were several 'I want to meet you' and 'I can't wait to see you again' but that was all. From the witch's introduction, Hermione had expected something more dramatic, like "I hate my mudblood wife" or something. Leafing through the letters, still, she noticed there were only a few of them. Five at most. They had been copied and replicated.  
Odd.  
At the same time she noticed this, Hermione felt a stabbing pain in her stomach, and realized that her hands were covered with some kind of fine dust.  
She frantically examined the cards, and saw that a thin layer of well-ground, almost transparent powder covered them all.   

Realization hit her suddenly: Irina didn't want to drive her away, but to somehow poison her!
 
But it didn't make sense! The witch had held the cards in her hand, holding them out! Before she could raise her voice to call Wendy, thought, Hermione felt an even stronger twinge of pain in her stomach, and saw for the second time in the same morning the world fade around her.   

 Draco 

“Hermione!" 

"Granger!" 

"Lady Malfoy!" 

"Hermione!" 

Even Astoria had joined in the search; when Daphne had gone to enquire about his wife's whereabouts, Astoria had offered to help.  

But no one had seen Hermione. He called her elf, but she wasn't coming. Nor did she have any obligation to come, since she was not his - but he could help to think that he called Wendy before, and she had come. 

He called the other elves in the manor too, but nothing: no one had seen Lady Malfoy or Wendy.  
Nor Irina.  

They were on a search that seemed to have already taken hours, when his mother put her hand on his arm. 

"Draco, she might have left..."  

"No! She's pregnant! She has no way to move magically at this point without risking the baby, and she would never risk the baby!" He was trembling.  

"You don’t know what Miss Strasser might have said to her, son. Hermione has plenty of reasons to leave" Narcisa looked down.  

Even after all these months she still felt guilty for her initial reaction to Hermione's arrival, and Draco wondered if she would blame herself forever. For his part, Draco knew he could never forgive himself for everything he did to her. 
But still…

"I can't believe it, Mum. She wouldn't abandon me. Would she?" he asked, looking at his mother, lost.  

Narcisa returned his gaze with clear pity. Obviously she thought that Hermione would abandon him. And he could blame her.  
Who wouldn't do the same?  

"Fuck!" he shouted, slamming a glass into the wall. 

Daphne seemed to build up the courage to speak "Why would Hermione abandon Draco?"  

She asked looking at Narcisa, but it was Blaise who replied "What, apart from her being humiliated and belittled every moment since she arrived? By her husband and his friends?" Here Daphne blushed, but Blaise went on “Draco here cheated on her with Irina". 

Astoria let out a little yelp, bringing her hand to her mouth, at the same time that Pod came with a soft 'ploc'.

But when Draco looked at him, the elf only shook his head. Draco ducked his head, hiding it in his hands, until Theo's voice made itself heard, suddenly excited:

"Pod. Can’t you check if the protective wards register Lady Malfoy leaving the mansion?" 

Pod made a concentrated face for a few seconds before replying "the wards don't record Lady Malfoy leaving the mansion today". 

Draco smiled at Theo, grateful. 

"Right. She's here! She's here!” he rubbed his hands together, anxious, and thought on how they could proceed from there.  

"Pod. Irina's out of the mansion?" He asked. The elf did the same face before nodding, indicating that yes, the witch had left the state.

"Maybe she has no connection to Hermione's disappearance then!" suggested Daphne, excitedly, and Draco realised that she and Theo deserved each other: they both were way too innocent. 

He thought before asking one more question “anomalies, Pod. Excess of magic or unusual magic, not from the family, in any corner of the mansion. Please check it out. Ask for help from the other elves!" 

Pod looked at him offended "Pod doesn't need help detecting atypical magic in the Malfoy house!" 

"Of course not" said Narcisa, conciliatory. "But we are in a big hurry, and very worried about Hermione"  

The elf shivered before vanishing. He return a few tense minutes later, in which Draco could have sworn he had made a hole in the ground from walking in circles.

"You have a disturbance in the wing of the great-great Lady Medusa Malfoy. Her private rooms and the room pink" 

Draco hurried off before the elf could finish. 
 

  
Draco was the first to reach the corridor of the old pink wing, running.  

He understood what Pod meant by ‘disturbance’: there was a strong urge for him to get out of there.  A compulsion. If Pod hadn't specifically said there was something there he would have let his body and magic guide him away as quickly as possible. 

But, knowing there was a chance for Hermione to be there, he didn't even waste time to cancel whatever spell was on and just walked into the ward, even though it was against his every instinct, even if his body felt seasick like he was on a drifting ship. 

Draco was already at the end of the corridor when he heard his mother lifting the spells behind him. 
He opened the pink room with force. There, gagged and unconscious, hands bound so she could not do any spells, was Wendy. He shouted to the others, warning about the elf location, before heading for the others rooms of the wing. 

He opened three doors, finding nothing; in the fourth door, his heart stopped.   

In the floor, pale as a corpse, with blood - Merlin, there was so much blood - running down her legs, was Hermione. 

It was the stairs again. It felt like a deja vu. He ran to her, screaming, crying, searching for a pulse that was barely there.  

Soon the others burst into the room, a trembling Wendy the first to arrive. 

"She-"  

"What happened-"  

"Draco, I-"  

"The healers-" he shouted as he hugged his wife. "I want the entire St. Mungo’s staff here! NOW!"  

Half an hour later, no one would be able to tell that that wing of the mansion had not been used for decades.

Draco, Theo, Blaise, his mother, the Grengrasses. Weaselette and Potter. Arthur and Molly Weasley. They were all there, in chairs, pacing up and down the corridor, whispering worriedly. Healers, midwives and nurses were passing back and forth, giving instructions to the elves. 

After the first examination, the midwife and the head Healer - whom Draco had recognised from Hermione's fall - said that something had happened, speeding up the birth. Something was not normal, there was something wrong with Lady Malfoy. And they closed the doors to the room, locking themselves in with Hermione and not giving any more information since then. 

Draco had punched the wall, again and again and again after hearing that. Then he had started banging his own head on it until it bled, until he was dizzy, until his mother held him back.
The others looked at him with a mix of fear and pity.  

The healers had given him a calming draught, which worked for exact ten minutes - in which his mother organized everything, called his wife's surrogate family, and was now explaining the situation to a tense Harry Potter, a suspicious Arthur Weasley and two crying redheaded witches.  

"I don't understand," Ginny said, sniffling. "This Irina... what did she do to speed up the birth?" 

"The letters," Draco said hoarsely. He had come to that conclusion by seeing on his wife's lap the correspondence covered in a light white dust. "She covered them with some kind of powder, I don't know what it is, but the healers already sent it for analysis. We should know in a few minutes what it was." 

"Potter" he called, loudly, wiping with the sleeve of his shirt the blood dripping from one of the self-inflicted injuries on his forehead "You're an Auror, right? Call a team and collect it from Mungo’s later. The letters. I want that witch arrested." 

Potter opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by his girlfriend: 

"But why?" Ginny continued. "Why would a guest of yours want to cause harm to Hermione and the baby?" 

To the general surprise who answered was Astoria. And she replied in a cutting tone, distilling hatred.
Against Draco. 

"Because Draco cheated on Hermione with her." 

It was pandemonium. Ginny, Potter and Arthur Weasley all snapped at him at the same time. Arthur was held by his wife but the younger couple attacked at the same time, muggle style. Potter pushed him against the wall and started punching him, while Ginny, trying to get closer but not succeeding, grabbed her wand and started aiming straight shocks at him.
His body convulsed but he didn't even think to react. He deserved it.  
He deserved anything they threw at him.  

Ginny stopped first. From the sounds of it, Blaise had held her back. But Potter was still punching him, and Draco could still hear him through the buzzing in his head : 

"You son of a bitch! You fucking imbecile! She didn't want any of it, you worm, you fucking, you- 

Someone finally pulled Potter off him. He could barely breathe, and seemed to have lost several teeth. His mouth was full of blood. 

Draco had never felt so pathetic - apart from when Hermione had seen him fucking Irina.
But he had never felt that the humiliation was so righteous. 

"If she dies" Potter said somewhere above him " if she dies for the hand of your fucking lover-" 

"I'll go along" he grunted, from the floor. "I won’t wait for the bond to do it’s work, I'll kill myself if Hermione dies. I don't want to be without her. I can't. I'll kill Irina myself and follow her later." 

His mother helped him to his feet and began to heal him in the now silent hallway. 

She could hear Daphne and Astoria giving the details of the sordid story to Ginny and Molly Weasley, and leaned on the wall.
Then he slipped through it. 

And began to cry. And cry. And cry. He was sobbing his eyes out.
He was going to lose her. And their child. Because he was an asshole.
 
He could hear bits and pieces of conversations "clearly loves her" "Lucius did a number on him" "since fourth grade" "never knew how to react".

Draco knew they were talking about him but he didn't care. He curled up into a ball and started squealing. 

Like a fucking child. 

"Draco. Draco!" His mother called out to him, but he couldn't open his eyes, couldn’t stop sobbing.

He felt an arm putting him on his feet and shaking him. 
Followed by a slap across the face.
 
That snapped him out of the spurt he was in.  
 
He looked into Arthur Weasley's serious eyes.
"If anything happens to Hermione or the baby, you will pay. But for now, Malfoy, you have to be man enough to stand up and endure the next few hours.  For them. Can you do that?" 

Draco looked at the wizard, confused, but nodded.  

"Good." 

"Your wife is behind that door. She's still there. So is your child. Concentrate on that for now. They're still in there. Okay?" 

He half shook Draco, half waved at the door.  

Draco followed the gesture and understood.  
Hermione was still there.  
Their baby too.
They were still there. 

He could focus on that. They were being cared, and they were alive..
They were going to be okay.  

Because if they weren't...  

Draco let out a choked sob and felt himself slipping again.  
So he focused on the door, and mentally intoned it, repeating it like a mantra: Hermione was there. And so was their baby. They were going to be okay. 

He didn't know how long he spent staring at that door.

Chapter Text

Time seemed, at the same time, to drag on and pass too quickly. 
Elves came and went, his mother offered everyone food, but nobody accepted. 
And Draco didn't take his gaze off the door.

He saw out of the corner of his eye when Ronald Weasley arrives. He heard Potter explaining the whole thing to him. And he saw Weasel trying to come at him, probably for another punching session.
Draco was glad that Potter was holding the wizard: he wouldn't mind being beaten up again, but he couldn't take his eyes off of that door. 
His sanity depended on focusing on that door. 

They couldn't hear anything that was happening inside the room, since it had been silenced. They tried to ask questions when someone appeared through the door, or see something, but only got the answer that they had to wait.

Draco saw through peripheral vision Ginny Weasley placing herself next to him. She was silent for a while, and so was he. And then, out of the blue, the witch blurted:

"You're an asshole." 

He nodded in agreement, not taking his gaze from the door. 

"A spoiled, selfish son of a bitch." 

Draco just repeated the motion. 

"And what are you going to do to make it right?" 

That caught his attention. He looked at her, lost, looking away from the damn door for the first time in hours. 

"Look Malfoy, I don't even like you. Obviously. Honestly, I hate you. But you do like her. I don't know why the hell you cheated on Hermione, but your mother says you lick the ground she walks on and have no eyes for anyone else. Sure, the witch already lied to Voldemort in his face, but..." she sighed. 

"If Hermione comes out of this - and we know it's a giant if here - if she comes out of it okay, what are you going to do? Keep cheating on her?" 

He snapped indignantly: "of course not! I wouldn't do that! I - I was wrong. I was in denial. I'm an idiot" he ran a hand over his face. 

"You won't see me disagreeing with that. The question is, what now? If Hermione's going to be okay, what are you going to do? She always wanted this marriage to work out, Malfoy, and you-"  

"I want it too" he cut her off before the witch continued, anxious. "I want it badly. There's nothing in my life I want more. I'll do anything! I took a fucking unbreakable vow, Weasley, I don't know what else-"   
 
She huffed. "Words, even words of a vow, are just that Malfoy. Words. You screwed it up good with your actions. Maybe you should prove you're not a waste of space with them too."  

He nodded, agreeing. She was right. He could do this.  
Hermione was his wife.  
His mate.  
He was going to show her how important she was.
Vital.
Essential.  

"She fancied you, you know. Not that she'd admit it, but Hermione had a thing for you early on. Before you, you know…”  

"Before I open my mouth and show myself to be a prejudiced snob?" 

Draco started to think, having some ideas of what to do to show Hermione that he wasn't a total waste of space, when the door suddenly opened.  

And the head healer stepped out, with a serious expression, closing the door behind him.  

"Mr. Malfoy. May I have a minute alone?" 

Draco froze. "Hermione! My wife. Where is my wife? Hermione!" He shouted and tried to get past the doctor, who held him forcefully .  

The healer looked around and took a deep breath, and began to explain right there, in a serious voice:

"We have received the results of the analysis, Mr. Malfoy. Lady Malfoy has come into contact with a very large amount of Erythroxylum novogranatense. A muggle drug, which here has been modified to act on contact with the skin and not when ingested. This drug is harmful in itself, but in pregnant women... it causes uterine rupture”.

The healer took off his glasses, cleaned the lenses and put them back on before continuing. 

I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but your wife's uterus has ruptured. She is bleeding severely; the foetus has been expelled from the uterus and is located inside the peritoneal cavity. I am sorry to inform you that you both have no chance of survival."

He couldn't understand a word. The man was talking gibberish. He couldn’t meant that Hermione… that their baby…

Draco kept trying to get through, loudly shouting his wife’s name, until he heard Ginny shouting behind him. 

"A C-section!” 

"A what?" asked Narcisa, already crying. 

"It's a muggle surgery. Doctors take the baby out of the mother through a cut. It's for risky births, right?" 

Draco stopped trying to pass and stared at the healer, anxious. 

But he only shook his head "We'd need a muggle hospital. And there's no way to safely move her to one in time. We have no safe means to removing the fetus, which is already brachycardic. And we have no way to stop Lady Malfoy's bleeding, her womb is open, completely damaged." 

"The bond" Draco remembered, hoarsely. “We have a soul bond. We are connected, right? By our magical colours. I'll help her. I’ll heal her and gave her strength”.

The healer looked at him with clear pity. 

"I don't see how that would help, Mr. Malfoy"  

But Draco didn't even finish listening, he was already entering the room. 
 

Draco didn't even finish listening, he was already entering the room. 

Hermione was standing still; she seemed to be sleeping. It was nothing like he imagined it would be a birth. 

Her swollen abdomen was protruding to one side, rigid. The Midwife shook her lightly to try to wake his wife, who made a face of excruciating pain, and blacked out again. 

Draco kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed, placing himself behind his wife, hugging her from behind. 

"Mr Malfoy! I really-"  

"We have a bond. I'm going to pass my energy on to her." 

She looked at him skeptically. "I don't know if that's how it works"

"Please. I'm going to lose my wife. It's my only chance. Please"   

The old witch looked from him to the nurses, and them to Winky, Pod and other elves, all of then already crying, and nodded, as the healer walked back into the room.  

Draco closed his eyes and  breathed in the unique scent of his wife's neck. 

"Granger. Hey, love. I'm here now, okay? I'm going to help you."  

He didn't know how that worked.
They had shared magic on the day of the circle, and later when the bond was consumed.  
But these were unplanned, natural situations.  
 
He didn't know how he could do that on purpose.
So Draco just focused on his magic.    

He concentrated deep in his magical core, from the plane inside his body from where he had felt the sparks when he took his first wand. And he tried to project that energy onto what he felt for his wife. 

At the same time he began to say "you're so strong, Hermione. You're the strongest person I know. You can do it. If anyone can do it, is you".

But Hermione was still asleep.

"I'm sorry babe, I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I left you alone. Never again Granger. Never again." 

He felt her move a little against him and continued, talking and trying to channel any energy he might have in her. 

"You will make it, and we will have our baby. With your brain and your hair and you in one piece. And it's going to be perfect, because you're perfect. And mine. I'm not going to lose you, Granger." 

She opened her eyes, tried to turn her head back but was seized by a strong contraction, and screamed.
  
Draco looked startled at the healer, but he shook his head, looking at one of two green magical boards, which projected information- like that diagnosis Granger had used with him, months ago- and a thin line that moved, contorted, and stopped, making the whole image dissolve. 

The healer looked at him with a grave look, and shook his head again before speaking:
"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but the baby... the cord broke, he was already out of oxygen and... he couldn't take it anymore. The child has just passed away."  

Draco felt a stabbing pain in his chest, like nothing he ever felt before: not when his father died, not even when Hermione started to despise him. 
It was as if a part of him had died. 
He tried to hold back the tears for Hermione's sake but he didn't need to: she was unconscious, her eyes closed, breathing fast. 

And cold.  
Very cold.  

 He took her face between his hands, “She’s cold. She's freezing! Hermione!" She grunted, moving her head from side to side, but didn't respond.  

He looked at the healers "Do something! She's not well!"
The two just glared at each other and Draco stood up, setting Hermione down carefully on the pillow, and took off on the head healer, grabbing him by the lapels. 

"Do something!" 

The man did not lose his stoic posture when answering:  

"Mr. Malfoy, there is nothing to be done. There has been a rupture in the myometrium, communicating the uterine cavity to the abdominal cavity, and your wife is currently going into hypovolemic shock. There is still no means in the magical world, and at this point not even in the muggle world, to fix this. I'm sorry, but it’s over, Mr. Malfoy”. 

Draco looked at him, not knowing what to say.  
It couldn't be true.  
She was Hermione Granger, she just couldn't end up like this.  
He shook the doctor, again and again, not knowing what to say, tears clouding his vision until the midwife put her hand on his arm, and spoke softly. 

"Your wife has regained consciousness. You should go and be with her; I do not know how long it will last."  

He let go of the wizard and ran to Hermione's side, kneeling beside the bed and taking one of her freezing hands between his own. 

She had her eyes ajar, and asked in a weak voice:  
"Draco... Did I made it?" 

He didn't know what she was talking about so he just nodded, tears running free down his face. 

"I want to see, Draco... I want to see our child."  

He couldn't take it and buried his face in his wife's hand, crying until he sobbed, but Hermione probably wasn't fully conscious, because she didn't seem to notice.
After a few seconds she asked again. 

"My child… I want my child… it’s a girl?" 

Draco couldn't answer and sobbed again. The midwife approached from her other side. 

"Yes, Lady Malfoy. Your baby is a girl." 

Draco raised his head to the elderly witch who just nodded at him, sadly confirming her words. 

But Hermione spoke again:
"I knew it… is Lyra... my Lyra...".  

And she closed her eyes again.
Draco threw himself up, lightly slapping her face.    

"Hermione! Wake up! Hermione!" 

She opened her eyes, which seemed clearer now:    
 
"Draco, what... I'm so confused... what?" 

"Shhh" he did, taking both her hands between his and kissing them "it's alright, Granger." 

She looked up at him before saying between tired breaths "I'm dying, aren't I?" 

"No! No, Granger, you're not! You're going to be all right, it's going to be all right. It's going to be all right, love." He spoke but felt his voice trembling. 

She gave a weak smile, "You don't have to lie, Draco. I can feel the magic draining out of me." 

"NO!" He shouted but Hermione didn't even blink "I won't let you leave like this, Granger!" 

"It's all right" she spoke, weakly "Now you'll get to marry a pureblood who agrees with everything you say". 

"I don't want to" he squeezed her hand tightly "I want a muggleborn who challenges me at every turn. I want you, Granger."  

She laughed, weakly, before closing her eyes.
He launched himself at her one more time, slapping her across the face again “Granger! Granger! Wake up, wake up love!"
 
She opened her eyes, blurry, and he threw himself over her, desperate "I need you to stay with me, love! I'm going to make everything different, I swear! I'll change, Granger, I'll give you everything! I'll pass my fortune on to your name! I'll let you go, live apart from me! I’ll do anything if you just fight, Granger. Just don't abandon me, please, please!" 

She opened her eyes finally, but when she did, her gaze was completely unfocused again:

"Draco... the baby... our baby? Did I make it? Where is my baby?"

She spent the next few minutes like that, in complete mental confusion, alternating between a more lucid state, and a totally confused one.

Draco's eyes were barely open anymore, swollen from crying so much. He couldn't, couldn't accept that. And he began to talk to her, pouring out his heart: 

"I'm sorry for everything, love. Forgive me for how I treated you at school. Forgive me for not taking the right side in the war. Forgive me for throwing myself into that circle without thinking. For treating you so badly. For separating you from Weasley. If I hadn't stepped into that circle you'd be with the wizard you love, and none of this would have happened." 

Hermione turned her head from side to side, weakly, and spoke without opening her eyes:   

"I didn't like him like this. It's okay."  

Her voice sounded like a whisper.
"No, Granger, it isn't. I ended your life" and he began to squeal again, holding her almost lifeless hand, until he heard her whispers:  

"Draco… Draco…” 

He raised his head at her feeble call. 

"Before I left... I should have forgiven you yesterday... I shouldn't have denied the bond... I'm sorry." 

"Never, never, never apologise to me, Hermione! You were just fair. I was the one that-"  

But the light grip of her hand on his loosened completely, and her head tipped to the side as her diagnostic screen changed to the same sign that appeared on the baby's, before fading completely. 

He once again launched himself at her, slapping her face lightly:  

"Hermione! Hermione! No, no love, wake up, wake up for me, Hermione!" 

He felt a gentle hand on his back. The midwife, her face wet with tears, spoke softly, "It's over, Mr. Malfoy. She's gone. I am sorry"  

"NO! NO!" 

He threw himself on top of his wife's icy body and lifted her out of bed, hugging, and crying.  

After a while who came was the healer, "Mr. Malfoy, I need you to let Lady Malfoy's body go. There are procedures that"-  

But he listened no more, turning his face away and burying it in his wife's hair. He wasn't going to leave her, ever again, ever, ever, ever...    

"Mr. Malfoy..."  

"must let her go"

 "it's not healthy"   
 
He ignored all the voices until a force, a spell, threw him away, separating him from Hermione's body. 

Draco barely fell to the floor on the opposite side of the room and already got up, making his way back to Hermione's bed before anyone could take her from him again.
But the head healer was still pointing his wand in his direction, and Draco barely took two steps before he felt his chest being hit by a spell again, and this time he saw the room spin before he hit his head on the wall and lost consciousness.

Chapter Text

When Draco awoke, he was in a soft bed.  
He refused to open his eyes, remembering clearly the last events, and stifled a sob.  
  
But he didn't do a very good job of smothering the sound, as his mother, obviously nearby, noticed and reacted.  

"Draco!" 

His mother threw herself, wrapping her arms around him as Draco slowly opened his eyes.
Looking down over his mother's shoulder, he saw light sheets that indicated he was in hospital. 
They must have removed him during his fainting spell, he thought. 

But Mungos’ sheets looked strangely familiar, which was odd - especially since he had never been admitted there before. 

"You woke up! Are you okay?" Asked his mother, anxious. 
Draco nodded, confused, pulling away a little and looking at his mother's face intently. 
Her hair was longer than it had been in the morning.  
How long had he been there?  
 
He opened his mouth to ask that, but was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.
 
And there, standing next to his mother for some bizarre reason was Minerva McGonagall. 
 
"Draco. This area of the hospital wing has been isolated, warded and silenced, so I need you to understand the seriousness of the next few minutes before we proceed. Right?"  

He looked at her, dumbfounded, before looking around. 
He was actually in the hospital wing.
But why? 
Turning his head to the left he saw Arthur Weasley, Burke and the Old Man from the ministry - all looking at him. 
Draco felt a shiver run through his body before turning his head fully to the right, anxious and at the same time afraid of what he would find.
And there, lying on the stretcher, tears streaming into eyes that stared resolutely at the partition, was Granger.  

Draco could have sworn his heart had stopped.  

The headmistress interpreted his silence as acquiescence, because she continued: 

"Very well. Please tell me what happened to you tonight, since you entered the room of requirement”. 
 
But Draco couldn't even look at her.   

What was happening? How had he gotten back to that point? Had he travelled back in time?  

Sighing, McGonagall continued:  

“You and Hermione entered in a Druid magic circle, used to perform various rituals, celebrations and rites of passage…”

And she went on and on, explaining the circle and the wedding all the while Draco’s head was spinning. 
What was going on here?
Had he really travel back into time? And if he indeed accomplished that, then… how? And when? 
 
And really, was this questions even important if Hermione was there? And alive? 

He didn't take his eyes off his wife throughout the professor’s speech, trying to remember. It was at the end of it that Hermione left the scene. 

So, without taking his eyes off his witch, when McGonagall finally ended her speech Draco spoke quickly and at once, before Hermione could leave:   
"I want to speak to my wife. Alone”. 
 
That made all eyes in the tent turn to him - Draco could feel it. But he couldn't tear his gaze away from Hermione, who turned her head and looked back at him.   
 
"I beg your pardon?" Resounded Arthur Weasley, at the same time as his mother said, "I don't know if that's appropriate," but Draco didn't move his gaze from his wife. 

He was afraid that if he looked away, she might disappear.  
Perish again.  
He might wake up in a world without Hermione Granger.
So he continued:   
 
"We are married, aren't we? I think we have the right to talk in privacy."  

The room remained silent for a few seconds, with Draco and Hermione staring at each other, until McGonagall replied:  

"All right, Mr Malfoy. We will be waiting at the end of the hospital wing, please call us when you have finished your tête-à-tête." 

The look between Draco and Hermione was interrupted by Arthur Weasley, who stooped down beside the witch and seemed to be saying something in her ear.  
Hermione shook her head, and the older wizard finally left.  

Draco sat up, and groping around the bedside table - he dared not look away - he picked up his wand and cast a muffliato before getting up and going straight to Hermione's bed. 

His urge was to hug her and bury himself in her hair, but this Hermione - real or imaginary - was not the one who had spent months getting used to the fact that they were married.  
So he just sat next to her on the bed.  

"Hi." He said, smiling at her.
"Hi?" She replied, uncertain and frowning. 

"I wanted to... can I take your hand?" He asked, and she nodded, still frowning.  

He felt calmer in the spot.
"I wanted to apologize, Gra-Hermione. I know that marrying me was the last of your wishes, but I promise that I will do everything in my power to make you happy."  

She studied his face, confused, before answering. 

"That's it?" 

It was his turn to be confused: “No, of course not. We have a lot to discuss. How are we going to-"

But suddenly he interrupted himself, guessing the reason for her question. 
"Ah, Merlin, I'm sorry! I'm sorry too for how I treated you, always. Before the war, during, and after. Sorry for all the times I've offended you. For all the times I was an asshole. For not intervening when Belatrix tortured you. For not apologizing before today." 

She stood still, staring at him, and Draco decided to send his pride to the hell and began to list: "Okay, I guess that was generic, right? So, I'm sorry for being racist to you in second year. For saying so much shit about your lineage. For bringing up your hair, also in second year. And in the third-"  
 
But she held up her hand, "Malfoy, okay. I did understand that part. What I’m not getting is the now! You're not upset? You're not going to shout that I'm not fit to be Lady Malfoy? You're not going to offend me for soiling your bloodline?"  

She wasn’t totally wrong: that had, in fact, been his reaction months ago.
He smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear and spoke, his hand still on her face. 

"Never. I may not have planned that marriage but that doesn't mean I didn't want it. I know it's confusing, and sudden, and too soon to tell you this, but I love you, Granger. I've been in love with you for years”. 

She didn't look shocked, which was the reaction Draco had expected.
She looked more... thoughtful? 
  
After a few tense seconds Hermione just nodded, indicating she understood his speech.
Her not running and screaming and jinxing him was already more than he could hope for.  
He could survive with a nod. 

But she spoke again: "Now what?" 

"Now..." 

"Now we are married. Burke commented that all the duties of the Malfoy and Black heads of household now pass to you, and I know you need to leave the castle but I really wanted to finish Hogwarts so I asked to... what?"  

She stopped talking as she saw that he was shaking his head. 

"I'm not going." 

"Not going where?" 

"Leave the castle. I hate that old-fashioned Lord Malfoy crap. I never wanted that position anyway. I want to stay here with you, finish my education and e-"    

"But how? Your family! The duties-"  

"I've thought about it a lot, Granger," and he had indeed, standing in the doorway of a room when the possibility of his losing her had leapt into his eyes.
  
"I intend to delegate. There are several parts of the role that I like - the part about investing the money in companies and land and inventions.  The rest I intend to distribute among staff and family. I was hoping to enlist your help in that, should you be interested." 
 
She nodded: "I've heard about my role from Mr. Burke, Malfoy. I'll be taking lessons from Molly on the customs of the holy families, the role of the wife and-" 

Draco held up his hands, smiling, and she got defensive again.   
 
"What, Molly's a Prewt! She knows so much-"  

"I know love, but that's not it. I don't ever, ever, want you to fall into the role of the thoroughbred wife. You cooped up in a mansion programming parties and overseeing gardens is a waste, Hermione. I thought I'd hand you my seat on the court, on the Wizengamot, and on the council here at Hogwarts." 

She looked at him, dumbfounded:
"But why would you do that? Those seats have been in your family for centuries!” 

"Well, and they still will be; now you are my family. Welcome to the nobility, dear" he gave her an arrogant smile, but seeing that the witch didn't fall for the joke he continued. 

"I have not the slightest aptitude or interest for such positions, Hermione. But you, Merlin, you would be perfect. I imagine you making the decisions on behalf of the students, fighting in every legislature over the new laws that will govern our world... it's perfect for you. If you want it, of course." 

"If I want to? Malfoy, that's all I could hope for in terms of professional fulfilment! But... can you do that? The other families..."  

"I don't give a shit about the other families”. 

"Burke said you have to take over-" 

"Burke can go fuck himself. With you on my side, the heroine Hermione Granger, we're going to have all the support in ministry we want. it's going to rain opportunities for me, for our family, all thanks to you. If Burke wants to try and ban us from the sacred twenty-eight, too bad for him. I bet he'd lose, and even if he did, I don't give a shit”. 

She stared at him in shock:
"But what about your mother? Won't she be against all this? You're going against the tide of centuries of tradition, Draco!" 

Draco. Draco was definitely a good sign.  

"My mother had a happy marriage, and I bet she wants the same for me. She'll love you, Granger, I guarantee it. Now, I get the impression that it's not unheard of at Hogwarts for couples to attend the school. Can we ask the headmistress for our rooms together?" 

After much conversation, several expressions of surprise and even panic from Granger, and much persuasion from Draco, they decided that they would live in a wing like the ones that used to be there, in the early days of the school, meant for couples.  
Granger insisted on two rooms and he didn't argue. 

If this was really a new chance, and not a hallucination, he would have time to prove himself to his wife. 

They went together to communicate their decision to the others, with Draco taking his hand on the way and Hermione, however unwilling to return the squeeze, allowing the gesture. 

As predicted, Burke tried to convince him to leave the castle and take up his duties completely, but everyone else backed them up and the wizard left, defeated.  

By then it was almost morning, and as the headmistress and the castle prepared their accommodations Draco and Hermione separated, with their missions to communicate to their friends what had happened.  

Draco knew that Hermione would have to talk to Potter and Weasley, but he didn't feel the least bit guilty about ending the girl's relationship. 
After all, now he knew that she didn't liked the Weasel like that. It was her exact words, after all. 
And, according to her best friend, she had been interested in Draco before. 
It was going to work out.

To Draco's surprise, his friends' reaction to his wedding was exactly the same as he remembered: Theo and Blaise were shocked, yet understood it as a good match, while Daphne looked at Astoria unsure - and Astoria looked like she wanted to explode. 

He and Hermione had split up - begrudgingly for him, who didn't want to let her out of his sight for a second, afraid that everything would fade away and he'd go back to reality, or dream, or past version. But she insisted it would be better to explain the whole thing alone to his friends, and he went to do the same.  

"Convenient for her, isn't it?" Astoria almost growled "got herself a great catch, a title. All way above her expectations. I bet she did it on purpose, Draco. You can't let her forget her rightful place." 

Draco remembered hearing those same words from Astoria before, but now he knew how to react. 
Closing his face, he turned to the girl angrily, before remembering Hermione's past words: Astoria might be annoying and poisonous, but she only acted that way towards Hermione because she thought she had a chance with Draco.  

He softened his expression, and addressed the girl in a calm, restrained voice: 

"Tori, I know you hoped we would get married one day, but it's not going to happen. I don't intend to drive away or separate myself from my wife - whom I love, by the way. Very much. I hope you can control your behaviour towards her, or we will unfortunately have to break off our friendship. I cannot and will not tolerate anyone bad-mouthing Hermione. Right?" 

He tried not to be too harsh. Astoria was younger and deluded, after all.  

Theo and Blaise looked at him dumbfounded, and Daphne let out a "I've always been like her," making the boys laugh.  

Blaise stood up and poured whiskey for everyone and proposed a toast "To Draco, who got the best witch in the castle in an absurdly easy way”. 

This made Draco growl "you have to stop this obsession of yours with my wife, Zabini!" 

Blaise looked at him dumbfounded "what obsession? It was just a greeting, I am not-"  

"Good. Keep it that way. Hermione is mine" he said in a warning tone, turning his drink around.  
 
It was hard to separate his feelings towards Blaise and not blow up at his friend for things he hadn't done here. 
But that didn't mean he wasn't going to warn the jerk to stay away from Hermione.

Later, Draco would call the first month of their lives together in
Hogwarts as adaptation:
Hermione's adaptation to the idea of being married to Draco, and the entire castle's to the two's relationship. 

That month, he did not seek Hermione out physically in any way; touching and holding hands helped soothe the bond, and he wouldn't demand anything from her. 

When they finally kissed, in a night in their private room, after drinking wine and talking for hours, the initiative was hers. 

And when less than a week later, on the same couch and in the same context, she basically jumped on his lap and begged, pleaded, rubbed herself against him so that they could finally consummate the bond, obviously it was also her initiative. 
If she noticed that he already knew how she liked to be fucked, touched and kissed, she didn't comment on it. 

After that step, intimacy became inevitable. They became inevitable. Draco spent as much time as possible in her company, consumed by her, and the witch did the same.   

He couldn't believe how lucky he had been, and sometimes caught himself looking at her at night and wondering if he hadn't gone crazy after the real Hermione died, and it was all just a dream.
Because it was too good to be true. 

Not everything was perfect, of course. Just like in the other future, Draco's father died in Azkaban - but this time not without first knowing about and reneging on Draco's marriage.
 Not that Lucius' opinion or blessing mattered much. 

And there were other parallels too: Weasley here wouldn't give up on Granger either, causing the few fights between the couple - with Hermione insisting on maintaining her friendship with the idiot and Draco wanting her to cut ties with someone who clearly had a romantic interest in her.  

Narcisa accepted Hermione easily here, after taking advice from Andromeda - which Draco figured had occurred in the other timeline one too.  

But some changes were noticeable: Arthur Weasley seemed not only tolerant, but even supportive here.  
Burke was sending owls with an almost threatening tone, which Draco ignored, having hired an intendant for some of the estates while he and Hermione studied and prepared for their future.  

And at Christmas she finally answered his daily 'I love you’ with an 'I love you too, Draco', causing him to lift her up and spin in his arms in happiness.
It was the first time in any of their futures that he had heard that from her mouth.

After graduation they moved to the mansion together; but Draco did not accept having separate rooms this time, no matter what custom said, and moved his things to Hermione’s room. 

But, when Narcisa suggested they turned his room into a nursery, Draco's blood froze. 
From then on, he asked her to use not only contraceptive potions but muggle’s contraceptive methods as well.
 Hermione looked at him puzzled for several seconds after the request, but agreed without arguing.  

When, in July, Blaise asked Draco for help to go to Italy to sell one of his properties, Draco didn't even hesitate before denying, saying that he would investigate the family but that his friend was capable enough to go alone.
And he only warned Blaise the day before the trip about the couple's daughter, who could be a calculating and dangerous person, without revealing the source of the information. 

Hermione several times asked what he wrote in his diary, but that was the only part of his life that Draco asked not to share with his wife: his diary.  

In it, a book with a black leather cover, he wrote everything he could remember about that other reality, in detail, so that he would never make the same mistakes. 

Draco thought several times about telling her what he had lived, but he was afraid she would hear the story and, real or not, shut him out once more for the stupid mistakes he had made. 

As Hermione's - and their wedding - anniversary approached, Draco wrote and rewrote in his journal more than ever. 

In the past, that date had been the beginning of the end.  
 
To avoid any resemblance to the previous past-future, Draco asked her to take at least two days off from her work at the ministry so that they could spend the date on a trip, just the two of them.  

But when his mother suggested the castle in France, he refused immediately: he wouldn't risk any resemblance to what had been. 

Instead, he took her to a private island on the Greek coast, where they spent the day before fucking and basking in the balmy sunshine, and the day of the anniversary between sheets and impromptu meals. 

The day was almost over when it happened: the couple were getting ready for dinner, and Draco walked past his wife as she got out of the shower, landing a kiss on her shoulder when she grimaced:  

"Draco, what perfume did you use? Ugh, it's too strong." 

He was confused "perfume? None. Just-". 
He froze, and as their eyes met in the mirror the realization seemed to hit them both at the same time.  

Draco felt the blood drain from his face, and Hermione picked up her wand from the dressing table. 

"What.... what are you going to do?" He asked, hoarsely. 

"Diagnosis’ charm. I asked Ginny to teach me a while ago." 

Draco knew, knew what the outcome would be but he still insisted, watching her cast the moves:  

"No, Hermione. You can't be pregnant. We use potion. You use those pills. I use condoms. It's not possible." 

She sighed as she replied, "Draco, it was only a matter of time. You know our marriage bond increases fertility absurdly. And look at that, we really are pregnant" she said, pointing to the light that pulsed in her belly before making an intricate movement and trapping it in a little glass ball. 

The little ball that had crashed when she saw him with Irina.  

Hermione held out the sphere to him but he ignored the gesture, and hugged her by the shoulders, sobbing. 

Hermione should have understood his reaction as emotion because she didn't question the desperation with which he sobbed, desperately clinging to her.

"I want you to follow up on the pregnancy at a muggle doctor" Draco said, first thing the next morning. 

They had returned to the mansion and were having breakfast with an extremely satisfied Narcisa, who was happily recounting her experience with pregnancy to Hermione.

Draco felt the astonished looks on both their faces fixed on him before he even lifted his face.

"We can stay in the house in London, and find the best non-magical obstetrician for you" he said, firmly. 

Hermione looked at him confused:  

"But... what's wrong with the St Mungus’ healers? I love that you rely so heavily on muggle medicine, Draco but I don't know if this is the safest option”. 
 
“It is” he affirmed. “They are better prepared for emergency cases, Hermione." He explained, remembered Ginny Weasley talking about a procedure that could have saved Hermione last time.   

They stared at each other seriously for a while, until Hermione sighed and agreed, without discussion.

Narcisa renovated the London house for their stay, and the family moved to the city at the end of the first trimester - when Hermione also chose an obstetrician from a list provided by Draco, who hired a detective just to list the best muggle doctors.  

And indeed, going to the clinic and seeing the amount of apparatus, books and machines, Draco felt a little safer. 

And when the doctor passed an instrument across Hermione's belly, showing in the opaque image a small baby forming, his throat tightened. 

He hadn't even seen the baby last time. 

Maybe now things would work out, Draco thought, a little less terrified. 

But when the doctor asked if she wanted to know the sex, Hermione agreed, and he said it was a girl, all Draco’s sense of relief faded for good. 

And when her belly began to grow a few months later, and she stroking the bulge asked him what he thought of Lyra for the baby’s name, once again he clutched her and cried in despair. 

The whole Hermione's pregnancy was accompanied by terrible fear.  
 
She didn't rolled any stairs this time, but that didn’t meant he didn’t woke up every day desperate about what bad news the new day could bring.  

Hermione wouldn't comment on his melancholy and lack of excitement about the pregnancy, nor his increasingly excessive attachment, and Draco wrote in his diary more and more .

The Christmas gift exchange with Draco's family was much like the previous one. The gifts from Narcisa, Andromeda and Teddy (who were also a constant presence at the small family gatherings here) given by Hermione were the same. 
But for him, she gave a ring with the rune that represented their bond engraved on the outside, and and the ones that represented love, hope and family on the inside. 
 
The comparison with this caring, loving gift and the cold, impersonal one was screaming in his head, and led him to think for a few weeks that maybe here everything would work out. 

Maybe the deaths of Hermione and their baby wouldn't be inevitable.

That feeling was shaken when, in January - months before the due date, and the exact same day as that happened in the another reality - Hermione woke up at night in pain, their bed soaked and whispered a "I think my bag ruptured”.  
 
Draco couldn't hold back his tears as he called a taxi from Hermione's mobile phone, and on the way to the hospital not even the frightened stare from his mother - completely out of place in a flimsy taxi and muggle clothes, holding Hermione's huge maternity bag - made him stop crying and hugging Hermione, promising her that everything was going to be alright, that this time would be different, that everything would be alright...
Even when he didn't believe it. 

At the muggle hospital, the doctors seemed not to understand Draco's desperation. 

They explained again and again that premature amniorrhexis was relatively normal.
That Hermione and the baby were fine, and that the birth would only be brought forward a little.  

But nothing and no one was able to calm him, and when her doctor was called inside the room Draco noticed his mother discreetly casting a spell to make him sleep.  

 

He woke suddenly, his mother's wand practically in his nose. 

He was in the empty hallway,
in a chair, next to his mother. 

"Mom? What-"  

"You were disturbing the doctors, Draco. Hermione was more concerned with you freaking out than with the birth. The doctor was ready to ask you to leave, so I thought it best to pass you out." 

"That son of a bitch!" He shouted, getting up. "Where is she? I need-"
But Narcisa put her hand on his arm. 

"She's all right. She and the baby, Draco. They're both resting, and fine” she said, smiling. 
Relief overtook him, followed by distrust. 

"Where is she then? I want to see them."  

“The doctor came out just now saying that they are both fine. Tired, but recovering. They should be able to receive visitors tomorrow but-"  

"I'm not a bloody visitor!" He grunted.  

"-But since you're the husband and father, you'll be able to come in in a moment. I thought you might want to clean yourself, they will call you at any moment now." 

He looked down: his hands dirty with sweat, his shirt stuck to his chest and crumpled, filthy. He knew he had probably never been so dishevelled.
Then he looked at the door "no, I'm staying here". 

"Draco, this is ridiculous. You'll only take a few seconds to go to the bathroom and cast a spell and -"
He crossed his arms and denied with his head: 
"I'm not leaving here." 
 
They were silent for a while. 

"Mother?" 

"Hun?" 

"Are they really okay? For real?" 

Narcisa smiled. 

"I imagine the doctors will give more details, but yes." 

He nodded.   

"You've lost your mind a bit today"
She commented, as if talking about the weather. 

He nodded, shrugging. It was true indeed. 

She smiled. "I am proud of you, son. It's going to be alright" she patted his hand. 

"It has to" he replied, softly.

A little over half an hour later, a nurse called him into the room, looking Draco's appearance up and down disapprovingly. 

He basically shooed the woman quickly to see that it was true that they were okay. And they were, he found out, almost falling with relief. 

Hermione was lying, perfect, face serene, hair brushed, sleeping on her side. Nestled in her arm, sucking a nipple, was the smallest, most perfect pink thing he'd ever seen, wrapped in what seemed like miles of white fabric. 

He wished he had a camera to record the scene. 

 The medical staff was standing there, tired, leaning on a wall, waiting for him. 

"Mr. Malfoy, if you would be so kind." 

He reluctantly took his eyes off the scene on the bed. He was afraid he would look away and they would no longer be there when he returned. 

"Your wife and daughter are fine. There were some concerns about the baby's general condition, but the situation has been brought under control and she is fine. No permanent damage from the premature birth”.
He breathed a sigh of relief, nodding.  
 
“And Hermione?"

The doctor looked at him, confused. 

"Ms. Malfoy is perfect fine, sir”
Draco let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding.
 

After the team said their goodbyes, not without first recommending a nurse or a nanny to look after the baby in situations like the present - Hermione couldn't fall asleep like this, with the baby suckling. 

He assured that they already had a nurse more than capable:  His instinct was to hire an entourage of nurses, but he knew his wife would prefer if Wendy helped her to raise Lyra. 
 
As if summoned by his thoughts, the elf appeared in the middle of the muggle hospital room, to see her mistress and the baby. 
In this reality Wendy was so loving and protecting about Granger as in the other.

Draco climbed into bed behind Hermione and watched above her as the baby suckled until she also fell asleep. 

Wendy picked her up with quick, practiced hands, straightened her up and offered her to Draco, with a shy smile.  
 
But he was reticent:
"I don't know, Wendy. I've never held a baby that small before." 

The elf frowned, "The lady will not allow you to reject the baby." 

"What? No! I just... I don't know how. What if I do something wrong?" He finished in a whisper.
 
The elf stared at him before smiling again, straightening his arms into an ideal position and depositing the baby there.
He stared at the child, delighted. Sure, babies were all identical rosy and puffy things - and he personally had said so on several occasions - but he could swear she would be a mini-Hermione, with a small face, delicate features, and a strong soul.
His little warrior.
He ran a finger across the small hand and saw the little witch grab it. He smiled at Wendy, happy, and saw that the Elf was crying.

"Wendy will get the lady's room ready and the nursery in the next room. Wendy will be along in a moment. Master Draco can call Wendy if you need to"  
 
It was the first time she had called him Draco. 

He nodded, acknowledging the gesture, but soon after his attention turned to the baby.
And he wanted to just talk to her. 

"Hey, little one. Is your dad here. 
You're the most perfect thing I've ever seen in my life, you know that? You're my miracle. You and your mum.
I need your help with her, honey. You're lucky to have the most amazing person in the world as a mother, and the unlucky to have the most coward wizard as a father.
I'll tell you a story, okay?” 

And he didn't know why, but maybe because it was a move he was constantly making with Teddy, he just propped the baby against his chest, leaned over, and nestled her there.
And he started talking.

"...Once upon a time, there was the perfect princess. The best witch of them all. The smartest, prettiest, bravest. So perfect and so alive that the prince-not enchanted, a bad, bad prince - fell for her from the start. Before he even knew what it was to love someone, she was already there. 
But child, he knew she would never look at him. He was a bad prince, remember?  Unworthy. And other evil people wanted him to hate her. So he started hating her because it was easier that way.
Until one day she fell into his lap. And when he had this chance, he jumped after her. He reached out and took the princess for himself, even though he knew he shouldn't have.
He took her away from everyone who loved her. There is another character in the story - a jester - who also loved the princess. The prince knew that, but he didn't care and took her anyway.
And can you believe, dear, that he was still offended that she didn't fall on her knees at his feet? And worse, he let himself be influenced by others.
He wanted to believe that she was undeserving, that she had deceived him, that she had done it on purpose, when he knew from the beginning that it was the opposite of that. 
I can't explain why that is, dear. I think it has something to do with his father. Or the fact that he never got what he really wanted, and was afraid of losing it. But I think the main thing is that he felt trapped. Like he had no choice. The funny thing is that given the choice he could deny it to death but he would never fail to choose it.” 

"The point, little one, is that he hurt her. Really. Deeply. And because of him she lived in danger, again and again. And suddenly all that fell apart and she was there, and he had another chance. A chance to make it right for a change. But I'm afraid, child. Afraid to wake up and go back to that nightmare. Afraid I won't have you anymore. I need you. I need you to stay with me. And, Merlin, I need your mother. Please, will you help me? If anyone can help me it's you, dear..."    

Draco was mute for quite a while after that, lost in thoughts and his fear of losing them, as he felt his ever-present black diary magically shrink to fit in his pocket.  

He needed to talk to her.  

No matter how afraid he was of waking up in another reality, or of her leaving him, he needed to tell her the truth. 

He needed to be honest with her for a change. 

Then he heard the sound of someone clearing his throat, and turned to see a wide awake Hermione looking at him with a serious face. 

Draco froze at that spot.  
What had she heard?  
What had she understood?  
He definitely didn't want to tell her like that, and he didn't know what to say until the witch's face opened into a small smile. 

"It's all right, Draco. I know." 

 Hermione
 
Ever since she had woken up that day in the infirmary, agitated, looking for the daughter she had just given birth to, to found herself months in the past, Hermione had wondered if the same had happened to Draco.  

If he too had experienced that alternate future.
He had moments, when it seemed so: specific dates, and times, when he seemed to squirm and expect a different outcome than the one his actions had. 

But she hadn't been sure, not until that day.  
Not until her collapse in the car.  

"What do you mean by that?" He asked after looking at her for a while, holding their small, perfect, healthy daughter in his arms as if she were a life jacket. 

Hermione signaled, asking for the baby. She nestled Lyra in her lap, happily, before turning her gaze back to her husband. 

"I experience the same things you did, Draco. The same glimpse of what our lives would be if we didn't accept the bond." 

"Was that what that…that torture was?”  

She nodded slowly "Well, at least I think so. What would happen if we fought it. First you not accepting the bond, and then, when you finally did, the one who reneged it was me. I think the ancient magic that brought us together wanted to make sure that we knew the consequences of fighting it”. 

He looked between her eyes, and then bowed his head:  

"How can you live with me? How can you even look at me? I betrayed you, I caused your death, and Lyra’s ..." he looked at the baby desperately, as if to confirm that she was there.  

Hermione took one of his hands. "I woke up in the past, just when I thought I was dead, and was surprised by a loving, caring Draco Malfoy. Who fights not only for me but for himself as well. The Draco I saw in the final months of that reality, and who I wanted so badly to be real, but couldn't trust.
Well, here you never did any wrong to me. Not after the war, anyway," she detailed when he opened his mouth to intervene, "and after a few weeks, when I realized what that other life had been, that this life was real and that this might be the real you, I wanted to give you another chance. Give us another chance. I love you, Draco. And I don't want you to torture yourself for what could have been." 

"You forgive me, then? For everything that-" 

"For all that has happened, or might have happened, or could have happened, Draco Lucius Malfoy, I forgive you." 

He let out a long sigh, and rested his forehead on hers, eyes closed. 

"At the end of the day, I think what makes a difference is how we decide to look at the whole situation. And the way I see it, I'm very grateful for our bond." 

"But what if I make another mistake? What if-"  

"Hey” she lifted his face. “No matter what happens Draco, I am grateful that we are bonded. In the end, bond or not, I chose you”.  

And despite the fears and insecurities that never left him, the fear of losing her, and his daughter, and the two sons that followed years later, Draco couldn't help but agree: and he would tell his grandchildren over and over again that it had all started on a blessed stormy night, when they bonded.