Unrequited

Omg! It's an update! yeehaw. Sorry for the very very long wait.
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We spent all of Sunday hidden away in that room. We were quiet, we were loud, we were all things and very insignificant at once. We connected in a way that I hadn't thought was possible between two people, let alone Hermione and I.

Monday morning rolled around and we were tangled up in the sheets once again. She and I talked and I asked her a question I'd been dying to utter.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" Her voice was sated and a bit sleepy in the bright morning light.

"I have a question."

"So I gathered." That dry wit again. I never would've suspected under that prim exterior.

"I was wondering..." Shit. How does a person ask something like this?

"Well?" She'd perked up in anticipation.

"When did you...well, when did you become so, so..." She picked up on my train of thought and finished my query.

"Sexual?" There was a chuckle hidden in that mild response, I just know it.

"Yes."

"Well... and you have to swear on your life not to tell Ron or Harry about it."

"Oh come on. Anything that starts out like that would compel me to taunt them about it."

"I'm serious Draco." She levered herself up to look me in the eye. She looked great, all touseled and flushed.

"Alright, I swear."

"It all started with Viktor."

"Krum?"

"Yes."

"That duck-walking menace?"

"Hey. That's not nice."

"But it's true." She rolled her eyes at me.

"Anyway, you have to admit, however awkward he is on his feet, he's a flipping genius when it comes to riding a broom." I couldn't argue with that. "You know I'm not a great fan of Quidditch."

"Really? I never would've guessed."

"Hush. Well, it's true what they say about the really good flyers. He wasn't the best kisser but he was very good at many many other things." Her mouth quirked in a naughty little smile.

"Oh..." I laughed, thinking of something. "Poor Weasley then! Ow!" I rubbed my arm where she punched me.

"Ron's a decent flyer when he's not nervous."

"Neither is he a prodigy, Hermione."

"No." She sighed. "And I've always been vaguely curious about Harry, but he's never really had eyes for me."

"Not until recently."

"Yes. And I don't want to encourage him."

"That's why you don't want me saying anything to Potter or Weasley?"

"Yeah. Both of them have this notion that they're the miracles of my life and while I love them dearly, that's just not so."

"I see." There was silence for a beat. "Would you mind if *I* became the miracle of your life?" I meant it to come off funny and a bit ironic, but I think she heard the earnestness that managed to come through. Still, Hermione was too gallant and sensitive to say anything.

"I think I want to manage without any miracles for awhile."

I breathed a mental sigh of relief. "Do you?"

"I do." That was very firm there Hermione.

"Hm. We'll have to see about that." I pushed her back down into the rumpled bed and just as things were starting to get interesting, a knock sounded at the door. We ignored it.

"We're not here!" I called out.

"Pity, " a dry voice said. "I could've sworn that you were indeed holed up in your little love nest."

"Snape. Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be Snape?"

"That's Professor Snape to you, Madame Malfoy."

"I wish he would bugger off," I muttered.

"I heard that, Draco."

"Sorry Godfather."

"Now, as it is 7:30, you have exactly a half-hour to get up and get dressed. So I suggest that you don't dawdle."

I heard his retreating footsteps. "Good. That means we have at least 15 minutes to play."

"Not bloody likely, Draco." Severus' drawling voice came through the panelled mahogany once again. There's fresh uniforms for you both in the wardrobe."

"Gah. He's got ears like a bat."

No pithy response came to Hermione's remark so either Severus was really gone or he just deigned not to answer. Either way, we got up and took showers and dressed. We reluctantly parted company and I watched Hermione ascend the stairs.

I went to the dungeons, walking into the Slytherin common room. Although there weren't many people there at that time of the morning, those who were gave me death glares. They weren't very happy with my choosing a Gryffindor over Pansy. Not that I really gave a damn about what they thought. Most of them were sheep anyway - rich sheep who followed the strongest leader. Marriage or not, I was still that leader and if I had to revert to my nastiest, foulest behaviour, I was going to prove it to them.

"What are you maggots gawking at? Go about your business." I swept down the stairs only to run smack into Pansy. Shit.

"Oh. If it isn't our little turncoat. Out of my way." She went to move past me like I was filth. I grabbed her and pushed her against the wall.

"Look, Pansy. Don't you even think about trying to hurt Granger. Whatever else she may be, she's now a Malfoy. And if you fuck with her, you fuck with me. Understood?"

"Sure, Drakie. I understand perfectly," she sneered at me. The little bitch.

I leaned my forearm across her throat. It satisfied me to see the leap of fear in her eyes. "Listen here, you little bitch. I would not take it well to discover that you've been messing about with my bride. I might even do something that you wouldn't like very much." I pressed my arm hard on her neck. She began to claw at it. I wasn't underestimating Pansy's aptitude for nasty business. When she thought she had been wronged, she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Fine, Draco," she finally responded sullenly.

"Good." I took my arm away from her and she slid down, coughing slightly. I went to my room. Everything was just as I remembered it. And it was very cold. Lonely.

I looked at the ring on my finger. It suited me very much. I wondered how Hermione had come to know me so well through years of mutual loathing and distaste. I shook off the sentimental feelings. I was fairly curious to see how all of this would work out. I gave myself a once over in the mirror, straightening my tie. Gathering up my books and shoving them in my bag, I left my room, climbing the stairs to the common room. It was blessedly empty and I gave an internal sigh of relief.

I left Slytherin and made the trek to the Great Hall. Breakfast was in full swing. I saw my bride of two days sitting at her table. She looked annoyed and amused by turns. The boys were staring at her with something akin to disgust and awe. She was the one girl who they definitely knew put out, but she was hitched to a Slytherin. Oh, the irony of it all. The girls were still fawning over her rings, the unborn Malfoy and those general sorts of female things. Most exclaimed over how pretty Hermione had looked in her gown. Which, I must admit, she did.

She looked up and saw me across the room. She gave me a smile and a wave. I smiled back and turned my attention to my excellent breakfast. I daresay I haven't tasted anything so good since I left home. Perhaps it was my general good mood that flavoured the food. Twenty-four hours of pleasant company and nearly non-stop shagging tends to brighten the darkest of days. I yawned around a mouthful of eggs. I was verging on exhausted. Some of the boys in my house gave me knowing grins. Pansy was studiously ignoring me. Like I really cared about her silent treatment. Please.

The bells rang, signalling the end of breakfast and the beginning of another week. I made a mental note to see Madam Hooch about booking the pitch for practices. Slytherin had the first game against Ravenclaw this season and I meant to beat those snotty bastards. I got up from the table and waited for Hermione by the door.

She slipped her hand in the crook of my arm. Just as we were about to go to Potions, there was a tap on my shoulder. We turned around. It was Professor McGonagall. Now what could that old cat possibly have to say? She looked down her nose at me, despite our difference in height.

"The Headmaster would like a word with the two of you before you go to classes."

"What about?" Hermione asked her head of house.

"Probably about your living arrangements, Miss Granger."

"That's Madam Malfoy to you," I sneered. Hermione elbowed me sharply in the ribs.

"Twenty-five points from Slytherin, Mister Malfoy." She gave me a slight smile. "For impertinence. Follow me."

"Why did you have to do that?" hissed Hermione in my ear.

"Well, are you or are you *not* married to me?" I whispered back as we followed McGonagall up to the Headmaster's office.

"I am, but don't you think that until we graduate it would be better for everyone to just call me Granger?"

"No, I don't." What kept Hermione from answering me back was the fact that we had gotten to the stone gargoyle. The grey beast grinned at Hermione and accepted the password from McGonagall.

We revolved up the spiral steps and the old witch knocked on doordoor. We heard a muffled "Come in" from the Headmaster.

He was seated at his desk, that infernal grin pasted on his face. "Ah. The two of you look well." His smile got even wider. "How are you Hermione?"

"Very well, thank you," she replied.

"And you Draco?"

"As well as can be expected." I was rewarded for this with another jab to the ribs.

"Oh, so then you must be doing splendidly." The old man had the nerve to twinkle at me. Powerful but completely barmy, he is. "Have a seat," he instructed.

We sat.

"I wanted to talk to you about your living situation." We nodded. Having emerged from the 'honeymoon suite' this morning didn't make me keen to go back to living in Slytherin house.

"By the way, Headmaster, thank you for what you did on our wedding night," Hermione said.

"What did I do?" The old man knew exactly what he had done. I saw it in those eyes of his.

"Thanks, anyway, sir." I said. Couldn't help being polite to the man.

"Not a problem. Now thyouryour living arrangements. We've not had a pair of married students at Hogwarts before." He held up a hand to stem the flow of words contradicting him. "That are officially on record as being married. So your situation is rather unique." He paused. "As you know, the governors would have my head if I allowed the two of you to room together. They're already not very pleased by your marriage. They see it as a dereliction of my duty that I didn't bounce the two of you out on your bottoms. However, I think that it would do more ill than good to toss you out."

I tapped my foot impatiently. Dumbledore could sometimes be long-winded. He continued on. "In light of your present situation, I've decided to remove you from your current chambers."

"What?!" Hermione squawked. "But...I'm Head Girl. You can't take that away from me, sir. I've earned it." She finished indignantly.

"You're still Head Girl. Although why I should keep you in that post is beyond me at the moment." Hermione fell silent once again. "To that end, I've decide to give you adjoining rooms, similar to the Head Boy and Girl rooms. You'll share a common room and a bath, but have your own bedrooms. How will that suit?"

I was a bit stunned. Dumbledore had been all that was gracious during this whole mess and now he was being even more generous. I also saw through to the real reason he was putting us together. The old sod was a romantic at heart. I think he was hoping that this marriage would turn into a love match. Too bad that nothing breeds contempt but familiarity. Then again, I wasn't bored or annoyed or irritated this whole weekend that I spent with Hermione. Perhaps Dumbledore had the right idea after all.

Hermione recovered from her stunned silence. She shook her head. "You really are an old softie, aren't you, sir?"

"Of course, Madam Malfoy. Oh, in front of the students I've asked your teachers to still call you Miss Granger. It's for continuity's sake and also not to flaunt your marriage in front of the Ministry or the Governor's board. Otherwise they'll think I'm running a house of iniquity."

"But I've made an honest woman out of her, sir," I quipped.

He laughed. "And so you have. Now that that's settled, the two of you can run along to classes. I'll have your things moved to your new chambers."

"Oh, sir? Where are our rooms?" Hermione queried.

"On the seventh floor, in the corridor opposite of Gryffindor tower."

"Really?" I don't I'd ever heard her so excited.

"Yes, dear."

"Oh, thank you Headmaster!" I wasn't at all pleased to be so close to those idiot friends of hers. Especially Potter, now that he'd tried to put the moves on my wife. I still had a score to settle with that impudent puppy.

"Alright, Madam. Off with you now." Dumbledore shooed us from his office and we left.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Nog." g." She fell quiet again and I could hear the gears turning in that head of hers. I wondered what she was coming up with in that fertile brain. But she said nothing, merely slipping her fingers in my hand as we made our way to the Potions classroom.

I opened the door to the ratoratory for her and we walked in. Snape looked up from lecturing to glare meanly.

"So glad the pair of you could make it. Open your books to page three hundred thirty-nine and follow along with the rest of the class."

We took an empty table in the back and scrambled to get our materials set up. Soon our cauldrons were bubbling away with matching blue flames underneath them. I watched with admiration as Hermione began chopping the dried fairywing with precision. I could never get them cut quite that fine.

"How do you do that?" I whispered, wanting to know her secret.

She smiled, though she didn't look up from her task. "Just keep your knuckles under and never lift the knife from the table," she whispered back.

"Like this?" I demonstrated.

"No." She moved my hands to the appropriate spots. "Like that."

I was struck by the similarities between her instruction and mine of the previous morning. It sent a wave of unexpected desire through me. God, Draco, pull yourself together. She's just a woman. I could feel my face flaming at the thought.

"Come on Draco." She grinned at me and I knew that she knew what I was thinking about. "We still have the entire day to get through."

"Hush up, Malfoy," I growled, enjoying calling her Malfoy.

She stuck her tongue out at me and finished chopping the wings, moving on to julienne pieces of rhubarb. I watched her hands moving with swift expertise. They were talented, those fingers. I wondered idly if she played an instrument. She had musician's hands: strong yet delicately made. I turned my attention away from that dangerous line of thought and finished my own wings.

We made short work of the other ingredients and added them, each in their own time, to the brew. When the pitch was of a medium consistency and the colour robin's egg blue we put the lid on the cauldrons and turned the flames down to let them simmer before bottling samples. I saw Hermione's look of concentration as she pulled out a notebook or sorts, even though it was unlike any notebook I'd ever seen. It was bound with some sort of metal spring and it had a red paper cover. The writing paper inside was not the yellowed unlined surface of parchment but rather stark white with thin blue lines on it. She pulled out a pen, at least I think it was a pen. Yes, it was a pen and she began to take detailed notes on the potion.

This was a side of Hermione that I have had little chance to see up to now. This was the studious, responsible Hermione. This was the know-it-all bookworm, taking neat notes and remembering every little detail Hermione. This is the Hermione that gets teased by her classmates beinbeing too serious, for taking too much time with her assignments. I rather liked this Hermione. I admired her. She was completely still for a change. Hermione wasn't a fidgeter, on the contrary, she was always rather physically still. But one always got the sense that she was in constant motion.

This Hermione was as solid and as unmoving as a stone. The quiet intensity on her face was not unlike the expression I saw when she and I were in bed. And the frightening thing was, I was beginning to get turned on again by it. Merlin's balls! Where did all that squishiness come from? Snap out of it Malfoy.

I pulled my own notes out and began to write.
*********

I knew he was watching me. He was always watching me. I quite liked the attention. Despite being an only child and despite being part of the vaunted "Wonder Trio", I always felt as if I faded into the background. And sometimes even more so alongside the Weasleys and Harry. Ginny was extravagantly beautiful with her red hair and blue eyes. Ron had become just as striking, in his own way. Harry was drop-dead gorgeous between the shock of raven hair and bright green eyes. I felt like a little brown wren - completely unremarkable.

But under Draco's scrutiny I was someone to take notice of and not just for my smarts. I think it was one of the reasons I played that disastrous game with him - because of the attention. If this marvelously handsome boy noticed me, surely I was worth looking at? I pretended that looks didn't matter to me. But they did. What kind of a girl would I be - what kind of person - if I cared nothing about how I looked?

I continued to take my notes, watching surreptitiously as he turned away to take his own notes. I felt a little disappointed when he stopped looking. The little timers that signalled the end of our potion brewing rang. I put away my things and took the lid off of the pot. The sky blue of the concotion had deepened to a nice, clear cobalt, just as it was supposed to. I ended the charm that kept the flames beneath the cauldron lit and ladled a bit of the potion into a test tube for grading. I saw Draco doing the same to his potion, which was just as brilliant a cobalt. Good. At least his potion wasn't better than mine.

I was a little shocked to discover that my competitive streak hadn't disappeared just because we were married.

"Do you want me to take your sample up as well?" he asked sweetly.

"Sure. Let me label it first." I enchanted a piece of paper to stick onto the tube and wrote my name, the name of the potion and the date on it. Giving it to Draco, I watched him intently for any signs of a trick but he just stuck the tubes into the holder on Snape's desk.

I'd packed up my things and I waited for him to do the same. We were about to leave when I saw Ginny flagging me down. "Go ahead. I'll catch up with you later."

He and I had different classes after Potions and I wanted to talk to Gin, having not really spoken to her the entire year.

"Alright, Hermione." He gave me a kiss and a cheeky wink, smirking at a point over my shoulder.

I turned to see both Harry and Ron grimacing at Draco and I. I rolled my eyes at the pair of them and walked over.

"How was the honeymoon, Herm?" Ginny asked, a naughty grin on her face.

"What little of it there was was very nice." We walked out of the classroom, Ron and Harry flanking us.

"Is it true what they say about Malfoy?"

"Stop, Gin. I think if I have to suffer through a recitation of Malfoy's skills in the sack, I might be sick," Ron said. Come to think of it, he did look a little green. Harry said nothing, being stone faced and completely unreadable.

Ginny laughed at her squeamish brother. "Oh, don't be such a prude. Especially considering the fact that you either lifted or tried to lift the skirt of every pretty girl between here and Ottery!"

"That's right, Ron." I piped up. "If you hadn't been such a tosser, Draco and I wouldn't be together now." I enjoyed twisting the knife a little.

"Alright, alright. I know when I've been beat," Ron laughed. But then his face turned serious. "But I want you to know that I'm really sorry about the way things turned out, Hermione."

"Apology accepted. Now can we move on?" I was tired of the whole subject. What was done was done.

"Have you started planning your baby shower yet?"

"No, Gin. I haven't had the time to think about things like that."

"Oh. Well, Luna and I were talking about it and I thought maybe you'd like to have one."

I wasn't in any shape to actually think about this kid. Right now it felt like I was just starting to equalize after all of the mayhem that had been going on. And I had Arithmancy to go to. I was going to be late in a couple of minutes.

"Sure, Gin. I have to run. We'll talk about it later, alright?" I scurried off to Professor Vector's classroom.

I don't know if it was because I was missing the strange tranquility of my short honeymoon, but I think Professor Vector's manner changed towards me. Instead of looking to me for the answers, she skipped over me. So much so that one of my classmates outright asked why she didn't call on me. The woman merely cast a disdainful look down her short nose at me and sniffed.

I was taken aback. She'd gone from being one of the most friendly teachers to giving me the cold shoulder. I had no problem with asking her what her problem was, even though I hated to question an instructor. I managed to concentrate on the rest of the lecture. When it was over I got up and approaced Madame Vector's desk.

When she looked up and saw me, her mouth tightened and she sighed. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Professor..." I searched for the right words. "Have I done anything to make you angry?"

"Have you? Not to me personally."

"Then, why were you being so cold to me?"

"Because you've gone and ruined your life, that's why. And I can't abide waste." She said vehemently. The woman was intense. She reminded me of Snape when she said that.

"I'm not wasting my life."

"Oh?" She looked disbelieving. "And just what do you think you're doing by having a child at 17? Making it better?" That posh accent of hers rolled gratingly on my nerves.

"Look, I made the mistake and it was *my* mistake to make. I understand that you're disappointed with me but what's done can't be undone. If you can't be civil to me then I'll just drop your class and that will be that."

I could see the surprise on her face. She hadn't expected me to threaten to drop her class. She expected me to apologize, stammering and groveling at the hem of her robes. Professor Vector was brilliant but she was also an egomaniac and a complete snob.

"No. Don't drop the course. That would be a complete waste of intellect. But I will not make special allowances for you on account of your condition. I'm going to drive you just as hard as the other students, maybe more."

"Understood." I looked at the clock over her head. I was now officially late for Herbology. "I need a note for Herbology, Professor."

She silently pulled out a piece of parchment and scribbled a note. I nodded at her and left the classroom. At least Snape wasn't more a bastard than he normally was. In fact, he was downright giddy. For him, anyway. I was surprised at Professor Vector's attitude. I hope that this wasn't a taste of what was to come.

Fortunately, it wasn't.

Professor Sprout took my note and just waved me into my seat. I was still between Harry and Ron, which was a little uncomfortable. Ron was jovial because we'd settled our differences. Harry was withdrawn and sullen. He and I still had unfinished business to take care of. I wanted to resolve it before Draco did. My husband (God, it feels strange to even think it) was giving Harry death glares and Harry was doing the same. Fortunately it was their normal state of being so no one noticed the extra incivility.

We trimmed and pruned and plucked our plants, separating the seedlings from the adults. We took notes under the soft guidance of Professor Sprout. I think if I hadn't had such an inclination for Potions, I could've been a Herbologist. There's something soothing about working with the plants.

Soon the class period was up and it was time to adjourn for lunch. Who was I supposed to go down with, Draco or my friends? I'd never had that problem before. Instead of taking it on the head, I scurried out of the room before any of them and went to the Great Hall. I grabbed up a chicken leg and some fruit and left before they could get down there.

Going outside, I sat down under a tree to enjoy the crisp October weather. It wasn't completely cold yet but I could feel Winter begin to nip at my nose. I heard footsteps rustling through the drying grass and looked up. It was Draco. I sighed in relief. I don't think I could've taken it being Harry.

"Why did you run away like that?" Draco looked genuinely puzzled. He sat next to me and began eating an apple. Ugh. The smell of it was making me queasy.

"It's stupid. Completely ridiculous." I pulled off a section of orange and chewed.

"Well, we've already decided that you're utterly fatuous, so you might as well tell me."

"Stuff it. I didn't know who I was supposed to sit with. My friends or my -" I stopped short. I didn't want to call him my husband. That would've soldified it in a way I wasn't ready to deal with yet. Thankfully, Draco didn't press the issue.

"I see." He sounded a bit disappointed. I didn't blame him. "So you avoided the isue altogether by retreating out here?"

"Sometimes discretion is the better part of valour."

"Ha. What a wonderfully practical sentiment, Hermione."

"Innit?" I smirked the rationalization of my own cowardice. "I guess that I was enjoying our cease fire. I didn't want to jeopardize it."

"So that's what that was all about."

"Hm." He kept eating that infernal apple, getting the stink in my nostrils. But I dealt with it, liking the quiet company.

Draco didn't offer any further thoughts on it and I suspected that he put it from his mind. I finished my orange and chicken and vanished the remains. I often wondered what happened to vanished things when they were gone. Did they end up in some alternate dimension? I shook my head a little to stop that line of thought. I had too much to deal with without contemplating alternate states of reality.

I could hear the bells chiming in the distance and the air was turning cool once again. I gathered up my things and I went back into the castle. Draco trailed behind me and we went our separate ways. I had Ancient Runes and he had Advanced Charms. As a matter of fact, we wouldn't see each other for the rest of the day.
***************

When I saw Hermione almost run out of the castle, I followed her. I was oddly concerned with her welfare. The thought that something could be wrong with her tugged at me a little. That was to be expected, but it still caught me by surprise. When she told me what was wrong, I wanted to laugh. Not in a mean way, but more that I was relieved that it wasn't anything more serious.

I also wanted to tell her that her choice should've been clear: she was married to me. End of story. But if she wanted to cling to those idiotic mates of hers, who was I to say no? Although I still had unfinished business with Potter. I figured he'd keep his hands to himself if they were all in a group. Hermione wasn't stupid enough to find herself alone with him anymore. Not after Saturday.

I sat in Advanced Charms looking at Flitwdemodemonstrate some incantation and my mind wandered back to the weekend. Innednned. The Head Girl was a wildcat in the sack, out of it, in the bath, on the rug, the table, against a wall...I felt myself start to harden thinking about it. Oh stop it, Draco. It's that kind of thinking that got you hitched to begin with. Now, concentrate!

I turned my attention to the rest of the lecture and found that the time passed in a blur. Despite being head of Ravenclaw, Flitwick was really an excellent professor. The class period ended and the bells rang. I and my other classmates filed out. The remainder of the day skipped along.

Damn. I'd forgotten to ask Madame Hooch about the pitch. Great. Perhaps if I was able to catch her now...I managed to catch up with her. She told me that Gryffindor snookered the pitch before I could. Damn them. Well, I've been able to snooker it right back from under those overly noble arrogant bastards. I went into the Slytherin common room and gathered together my players, told them what was up and we all gathered up our brooms.

We attracted quite a bit of attention travelling en masse to the pitch. The sight of a bunch of monied, extremely good looking Slytherins is enough to give the ordinary witch or wizard heart palpitations. I smirked at the staring students. I saw the hovering Gryffindors turn and look when we entered the stadium. Potty flew down and hopped off his broom.

He had on that silently suffering/manic determined expression that caused many a fourteen-year-old girl to go swooning. I had the desire to punch him right in those fabled green eyes. Stupid scarred brat.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"My team and I have come to practice."

"Uh, we've already got the pitch. So toddle on back to the dungeons."

"Check the schedule again." I smirked. If he went and got the roster, one of my teammates could change the times.

"Why? You've already stolen my best friend, you're not stealing the pitch, too." His nostrils flared in the chilly air and he looked like nothing so much as a bull ready to charge. I decided to wave a red flag at him.

"She wasn't yours to steal, Scarhead. And besides, why should she want a ragamuffin like you when she has someone like me? I'm better looking, I'm smarter, I'm richer and I'm a better lover. So sod off Potter and let your superiors take the field." I went past him, deliberately shoving his shoulder. Thus I was prepared when he tried to toss me to the ground.

I took great satisfaction in punching him right in the nose. Unfortunately, all hell broke loose just then.

Every other Gryffindor on the field and in the air came down on me and my team. A few Hufflepuffs with misplaced loyalty rushed into the fray. I didn't see any blue and silver scarves so I assume that Ravenclaw was too bloody smart to get into it. Potter was in the process of giving me a black eye when I heard a voice cut through the melee like a hot knife through butter.

"Harry James! What are you doing?!"

Ah. My lovely wife decided to come to my rescue. Wonderful. That didn't stop Potter from whaling into me, so I managed to sneak in an uppercut that sent him reeling off of me. I saw a small white hand reaching out for me through my blurred and rapidly swelling eyes. I took it, grateful for small favours.

"You've tried to bash his head in good and proper, haven't you?" All I could make out of Hermione was that mass of hair as she touched the tender skin on my face.

"He landed the first punch."

"Why didn't you just walk away?" I heard a note of irritation in her voice.

"Ferret-face and those vipers he calls teammates tried to steal our pitch time."

"And?" She sounded bored now. It was a haughty tone I could've called my own.

"Words were exchanged. When he tried to move past me I..." Potter trailed off as he realized that although I did punch him first, he laid hands on *me* first.

"And in so doing, got your nose broken, or in fair imitation of it." I smirked to hear her sneering at Potter.

"Aw, whose side are you on, mine or his?" Potter whined.

"I'm on no one's side. I just thought better of you, Harry, that's all," she said quietly enough so that shame managed to ensnare all of the combatants.

"And you, " she whirled to face me. "I expected better of you as well. If you didn't book the pitch for yourself ahead of time then that's your own ruddy fault. You can't always get what you want in this life, Draco." I heard her disappointed sigh and felt a little guilt prickling at me. "Both of you, come with me."

She left the pitch, trailing us in her wake.
***************

The chilled air whipped around my bare knees. I was severely pissed off with both of them. I was still angry with Harry for that stunt he pulled on my flipping wedding day and now he'd gone and roughed up my...don't think it, Hermione! And Draco was just as bad provoking Harry into a brawl. Honestly. I am not a piece of meat. I looked back at them with disgust. Typical males.

We got inside the doors and I pulled them into an empty classroom. "Look, this is more than just Malfoy trying to steal the pitch and you both know it." I sighed. I'd known this conversation was coming. I had just been avoiding it.

"Harry, you have to deal with the fact that our little group will never be the same. People grow, change - "

"You're bloody telling *me*."

"Shut up." He shut.

"You don't really want me, and neither do I want you."

"Really?" I hated it when Harry was mocking.

"Yes, Potter, *really*. Believe me, If I'd wanted you badly enough, I'd have had you." I gave him a level stare and was gratified by the look of apprehension that came into his eyes.

"Look, I'd rather see you with anyone but *him*."

"Oh, so that's what that kiss was all about. You were putting yourself on the sacrifical altar for me! How noble. But I don't need rescuing Harry. Especially not from him."

"Hey, I'm not a pussycat, Hermione," Draco interjected.

"Shut up. I haven't even *started* with you." Draco fell silent, pouting.

"Anyway, the pair of you are pathetic. I'm not a piece of meat that's fallen off the table for you two pups to fight over. I can make my own decisions. Draco - I married you not because you put pressure on me, although I was feeling the weight of your leaning. I married you because I chose to do it. I could've just run. But I didn't. After we talked that night, I began to see that perhaps being married to you wouldn't be hell on earth. Besides, it's only for a year.

Harry - you're my best friend, and you always will be. Me being married to him won't change that. Even though I'm still steamed at Ron for messing me about, I'm ok. He wasn't the one for me and I know that now. I was just comfortable with all of us being together and being friends. It seemed like all the pieces had fallen into place. I liked that."

"I liked it too, Hermione."

"I know. But I haven't broken up the group. It's always been just the three of us against the world. Despite everything, I know you'd do anything for me just as I would for you. But there's nothing there. At least not like it is for *her*. So stop being a wanker and patch things up." I'd gentled my tone. I wasn't angry anymore. I was just tired.

Draco stood there looking at me expectantly. I had nothing to say to him, so I just walked away.
*****************

Potter stood there looking at me like I had lost the battle. Which, in all honesty, I had. It pissed me off that she would be nicer to her friends than her husband. Then again, who was I but a temporary lease?

I was a little sad at the admission that the girl who was having my kid didn't give a shit about me. I couldn't look at Potter looking at me anymore. I had a feeling that my heart was on my sleeve. I hated that. So I left.

I went to our new quarters and stayed on my side of the apartment. My first impression of it was that it was entirely decked out. My rooms were done in shades of sand, sea and silver. It was a soothing, if cold, combination of colours that suited me. Upon closer examination I found that all of my belongings had been transferred from my room down in Slytherin to here. The wardrobe was completely stocked with my things all pressed, starched and shined. I wondered idly if the elves polished my shoes with a combination of champagne and bootblack, like Napoleon.

The en-suite was just as polished. Gleaming white and chrome for miles on end. It looked like Sweden. I loved it. I thought about what Hermione's rooms would look like. After stepping through our drawing room, I subdued my curiousity and her oak door stayed firmly closed. Our drawing room was done up in neutral shades of brown and copper. Actually, it reminded me of Hermione's hair. It was warm, inviting. It would glow when a fire was lit. The comfort of that room poured through my veins like warm bourbon. Dumbledore had outdone himself. I suspected that the geezer was getting off on this. Perhaps he had some inane notion of being named godfather to our child. I scoffed at that thought. Never. He's a Gryffindor. The leader of the pack. I'd rather swallow a cup of cold sick.

I heard the door to our suite open and close. Huh. I thought Hermione was here already. I didn't hear her go into her side so I came out. She was standing in front of the fireplace, stoking the coals to life.

"Still not speaking to me?"

She didn't look at me. "I was never *not* speaking to you, Draco."

"Could've fooled me."

She turned around with an expression that was half pleading, half annoyed. "We had such a nice weekend, let's not, ok?"

She pulled her robe off and tossed it over the back of a wingback chair. I watched her cross the room, kicking off her shoes and tugging her sweater over her head. The topknot she'd arranged her hair in was loosened and I was distracted by that. It made me angry.

"Would it be too much to ask if you maybe defended me instead of sticking up for your friends?"

"I didn't stick up for anyone. I was pissed off at both of you for being stupid."

"Oh, really? Everytime I look around you're running off with your little friends."

"You're still pissed because of what happened at lunch?" She looked incredulous.

"Why shouldn't I be, Hermione?! You're my bloody *wife*. I'm your husband."

I saw her face twist angrily at that label. "They've been my friends for far longer than you've been my husband."

That cut deep. "Well, at least I know where your loyalties lie."

She sank into a chair at the gleaming teakwood table. The shining happiness of it mocked me. "Don't make me choose between them and you."

"Yeah," I said, feeling bitter. "You'd choose them everytime."

She leapt up so fast the chair fell over. "Give me a reason *not* to choose them, Draco! Honestly, what am I to you but a revenge fuck that happened to get knocked up?!"

"Like I wasn't a bit of revenge for you as well. Who better to have it off with after you shake the Weasel?"

She looked as if I had slapped her. Then she smiled ruefully. "It's true. All of it. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I thought I was better than that."

I watched her cross the room, being careful to avoid me and go into her room. I heard the sound of about 5 different locking charms - a simple 'Alohomora' wouldn't undo those things, I tell you.

Dammit.