Pictures

“I don’t see why it’s necessary! Why can’t we just have two quiet ceremonies; one Catholic to appease my family and then one wizarding to appease yours? There’s no reason to encompass them in the same ceremony! Besides, it will cost a fortune to rent out St. Paul’s Cathedral and my parents can’t pay for that.” Hermione was arranging her clothing in the closet of her new home in Malfoy Manor as she argued with her fiancé. Upon learning of her pregnancy, Draco had insisted that they move into the manor and that they be married within the month and he and his mother were planning the largest, most lavish wedding she’d ever heard of and it was happening within the next two weeks. From the way that Narcissa was talking, her wedding would rival that of Princess Diana and while Hermione had always dreamed about her wedding day, she didn’t know if she wanted it to be this prolific.

“Of course it’s necessary! You’ll be a Malfoy and I’ll pay for the wedding. It would be a great insult to you if we didn’t make it the social event of the year.”

“But I just want something quiet with only our close family and friends. That’s not insulting, it’s sentimental.”

“Think about it, Hermione. If we have a small, quiet ceremony that doesn’t raise any interest and people do the math after little Mordecai and Malachi are born, they’ll know we got married because of the pregnancy and they’ll think I’m ashamed of you. You’ll be accused of being a gold digger and do you really want our children to have that stigma growing up? Do you want them to be teased and to think that they were a blight upon my existence?”

“No one who knows me would ever think such a thing! And we aren’t naming them Mordecai and Malachi!” Hermione was flabbergasted. They had found out at their obstetrician visit that they were having twins and Draco had come up with the most awful names for her poor babies.

“No, but those that do not will freely spread rumors and those rumors will later be used as cruel taunts on the playground.” Draco’s eyes bore into hers and she caved.

“Fine, we’ll have the huge wedding, but what are we going to do about my muggle family? Only my parents and Chris know that I’m a witch and the ones who don’t know will be terribly hurt if I don’t invite them.”

“We’ll have a ministry official obliviate them so they’ll think they witnessed a traditional muggle ceremony. Now that that’s settled, I’ll make you an appointment at the boutique so that Madame Gisele can start designing options for your wedding gown. Your mother and grandmother have said they’ll handle the invitations and my mother wants us to go look at floral arrangements and caterers this afternoon.”

Draco continued to prattle on and Hermione smiled indulgently. He loved to organize events and she had no doubt that their wedding would be no different. Looking down at the large flower made out of diamonds on her ring she smiled wistfully. It was very large and intricately made, with a circular diamond in the middle surrounded by six marquis cut diamonds as petals. It had taken her breath away when he’d presented it to her. He even got down on one knee and slipped it on her finger. The only thing missing was the fact that none of it was real.

Hermione was no fool; she knew that Draco cared for her a great deal and that he was borderline obsessed with her. She knew that she had been the first person he’d ever been truly affectionate with and that she was the first to ever take an interest in him as a person. Draco Malfoy had been a very lonely boy and she was the only person who had ever enjoyed spending time with just him for no reason other than she liked his company.

Of course he was still blindingly annoying at times and he had so much selfish ego that she often wondered how he fit his big head through the floo network, but she’d learned to take him with a grain of salt and actually found most of his habits endearing. He guarded her jealously at work when they took their lunch together and he constantly wanted to be let in to different parts of her life. However, obsession and caring did not equal love and for some reason it made Hermione sad that she did not have his love.

When he had asked if there was anyone else she had startled herself because there truly wasn’t anyone that she would rather be with than Draco. Yes, he’d blackmailed her but she had complete confidence that he wouldn’t leak the pictures. She still couldn’t believe she’d done those things and it would totally shatter her public image if the details of her relationship came to light, but she honestly couldn’t say she was unhappy. In fact she was very happy. While she loved her Gryffindor Friends like family she’d always felt a little on the outside because of her uptightness. Draco was equally fastidious and dedicated to his work even though he acted calm and flippant, so he understood her manic behavior. They both loved literature and the arts and she loved teasing him to get a rise out of him. Then there was the fact that their sex life was amazing. Instead of getting boring, as Hermione had hoped in the beginning, it got better and better. Draco could make her come in under thirty seconds or he could draw her orgasm out for ages. She knew his sculpted body equally well and she reveled in the variety their intimate life entailed. Now if only they were in love, everything would be perfect.

Coming back to the present, Hermione answered Draco’s question of who she wanted as her bridesmaids. “Ginny and Luna, of course.”

“Well, you’ll need another. How about Padma Patil? The two of you were good friends at Hogwarts.” Draco spoke as he wrote out notes and attached them to legs of the various owls that Malfoy Manor had.

“Why do I need more? I thought you were just going to have Crabbe and Goyle stand up for you.”

“Yes, well I asked Blaise as well.” Draco had finished writing his notes and he pulled her from the closet over to their massive king size bed with the plush midnight blue velvet comforter. Pulling her on top of him, he fell backwards over the bed and forced her to straddle him. “Although it is a pressing matter, I can think of loads more things to do rather than talk about the wedding. For instance, you can go on another litany of how big my cock is and how much you love having it inside you.”

Hermione blushed at the reminder of her orgasm induced rant the previous evening when they’d made love for the first time in their new bed. Draco had forced the elves to redecorate the master suite so that they shared a bathroom, closet and the color scheme was entirely different from when Lucius and Narcissa had used the room. He said the last thing he wanted to be reminded of while they had sex was his parents. Hermione couldn’t blame him. She liked Narcissa, but the thought of her and Lucius killed any sex drive she had.

“Why don’t we talk about baby names other than Mordecai and Malachi? They might be girls, you know?” She settled herself squarely on his groin and brought his arms above his head so that it looked like she was pinning him down. In truth, she didn’t have the strength, but he let her feel dominant every so often because he knew she liked it.
“Well, you already said no to the best names for our children, so I think Mordecai and Malachi are a perfect compromise.” He smirked up at her incredulous face.

“Scorpius and Abraxas are not the best names for our children! I like Liliana and Rosalie.”

“Our boys will get beat up if we name them that.” He laughed as she playfully beat on his chest.

“Fine, how about Michael and Nicholas if they’re boys?”

“Those names are so blasé,” he said. “I want them to have good strong names that have character.”

“If we name our son Scorpius the only character he’ll have is that of a cartoon! Either that or he’ll be thirty and still living at home playing D and D or some online wizarding equivalent and never have a date in his life. He’ll have no choice; his name is Scorpius! And do you WANT our children to be labeled dark wizards the second they set foot in Hogwarts? With names like Malachi Malfoy, they will.”

Draco flipped her over so that she was now below him and smirked at her, something that could either fan the flames of her temper or turn her heart over with affection. This time it was the latter.

“Neither of our sons or any other children we have will be dateless. They’ll have the Malfoy charm and if we happen to have girls, they’ll have your pretty face and my blonde hair and when they finally turn thirty and are allowed to date, we’ll pull our hair out trying to think of ways to keep men out of the house.”

At the casual way he spoke of them being together for over thirty years, Hermione’s heart stilled. Could she live in a loveless marriage? Was she being too naïve to think that her life would unfold like a Disney movie? Yes, she knew he cared about her, but she also sometimes felt like his favorite toy. She attempted to hide her discomfort with humor.

“If you dare lock up our daughters, I’ll hex your manhood off.”

“You wouldn’t do that, it’s your favorite part of my anatomy,” he grinned down at her as he reached under her skirt to move her knickers aside and shove said piece of anatomy into her already moist pussy. “Can you really imagine going without this?”

Inside, Hermione cursed him. He was well hung and he knew it. She jerked her hips upwards and swiveled them while clenching her inner muscles around his cock. It was her turn to smirk at his hiss of pleasure. He clenched her wrists tighter in his hands and growled, “I swear, if I didn’t know for a fact that I was your only lover, I would find and kill the man who taught you how to do that and then tie you to my bed for a year.”

He buried his face in her neck and Hermione purred into his ear, “Jealous much?”

He began to move in and out of her with harsh, determined strokes. “I can’t help it that the thought of another man knowing your body the way I do makes me murderous. I thought we established some time ago that I don’t like to share, especially not you.”

“As long as that goes for you as well, you have nothing to worry about. However, if you do happen to look elsewhere, I might just take that tour of Puddlemere United’s locker room that Oliver Wood has been offering me.” Her statement got the effect she wanted. His grey eyes darkened and he pulled her off the bed and wedged her between the wall and his body, never once disengaging himself. As he thrust upwards with his hips, banging her against the wall, Hermione closed her eyes and lost herself in the feeling of being dominated.

“I haven’t so much as gotten a hard on from looking at another woman, so you have absolutely no reason to threaten me with that. However, if you want me to smash Wood’s pretty face in, by all means, go ahead. You’re mine, and no fucking pretty boy quidditch player is going to change that.” He bit down on the top of her breast and Hermione came, screaming out his name.

He maneuvered them back to the bed so that he could angle himself deeper inside her. “Say you’re mine,” he commanded and gave her a light slap on the hip.

“Ow! I’m yours,” she said as he grabbed her hips and held her still so that he could control the angle of his thrusts better. They were both still almost fully clothed and this heightened the sense of urgency she felt as her second orgasm came crashing down on her. This time the sensations milking his cock made Draco come as well.

Panting, Draco helped her to right her clothing and using his wand, removed the wrinkles in their clothes. When she stood up, he slid her knickers off her legs and put them in his pocket. Looking at her steadily, he said matter-of-factly, “You are mine. I’m going to marry you, you’re going to have my children and I’m never going to let another man touch you. When we’re at the caterer’s, I want you to look at me and know that I’ve got your knickers in my pocket. I’m keeping you.”

Hermione didn’t say anything. How could she? As declarations of intent went, this one was a showstopper. She slipped on her pumps and walked over to him to take his hand as he apparated them to the florist and his waiting mother. While she picked out flowers, she couldn’t help but notice Draco’s possessive gaze on her and the hand he never once took off the small of her back burned with intensity through her dress. She had obviously underestimated his want and, or need of her. The only question she had was could she deal with it?