Angel on the cover

The hotel room was devoid of anything personal, the sheets were routinely changed, and clothing was washed and folded back in his drawers. He never saw the people responsible, but he’d learned from Robert that they were the Muggle equivalent of house elves. He had fallen in love with the large claw foot bath that reminded him the prefect bath. The bubble maker in the tub and the jets that rushed water felt great on his back as he rested against them.



He made a note to purchase one, figuring that it would feel grand when the increased weight of the baby pulled at his back muscles.



Reluctantly abandoning the cozy tub, he lifted the size larger slacks up his legs and drew the zipper and clasp closed. He then buttoned up a long-sleeved white dress shirt, and quickly threw on a waistcoat and coat on top he was ready to leave.



All of his belongings had been shrunk to fit into the one carry-on he would take aboard the plane. He had not seen Poppy since the initial diagnosis, and he wasn’t sure how his body would take Flooing or taking a Port Key. For the safety of his little tag along, he decided not to risk it.



It was time to go: He needed to start preparing for the arrival of his child, and moving around would not be an option once he decided where to live. He stepped into the lift absentmindedly picking at a bit of imaginary lint on his sleeve.



He heard the tone indicating he’d reached his destination and bent to grab the bag he placed on the floor.



“Draco?” Looking ahead he saw someone he never expected to see in New York, much less the lobby of his hotel.



“Weasley?”



“Granger-Weasley,” Hermione reminded him with a gentle smile he’d never seen directed towards him. He did the only thing he could think of….



One moment, she stood there with that unnerving smile; the next they were separated by the lift’s metal door. He took his finger off the close button and reached out to press a floor to escape, but the door reopened too soon.



“Malfoy!” she chastised him as if she were speaking to an incorrigible toddler, glancing meaningfully at the door



“Malfunction, now excuse me.”



He brushed past her and started walking toward the check-out desk, her high heeled feet tapping frantically on the marble floor as she tried to keep up.



The desk attendant smiled at him. “Mr. Malfoy, are you checking out all ready?”



“Yes.”



“It’s been a pleasure; I hope that your stay has been a memorable one and that you decide to stay with us again in the future.”



Draco smiled tightly at the routine fawning and tried to avoid tapping his foot impatiently.



“You look well,” Hermione complimented as she looked him over.



“Weasley, what are you doing here?” he said as he finally turned to look at her.



“I was looking for you. I want to talk.”





“Nothing to talk about Granger.” He didn’t like the way she was eyeing him. He continued, “The pathetic link that may have once been between us is gone.”



“Is it?” she asked looking at his abdomen. “You look great, you’ve put on some weight, but it looks good on you- almost blooming.”



“Mr. Malfoy was even slimmer?” The desk clerk asked, rushing to reassure him when he saw Draco’s face grown pale. “You still look amazing, sir!”



He ignored the clerk’s desperate assurances; Hermione’s words had brought his world to a halt. He flinched at her gentle nudge to his shoulder.



“Now can we talk? Now?”



He gave a stiff nod, picked up the key from the counter and walked back in the direction he’d come from.



“He’s not checking out yet, thank you,” Hermione informed the clerk with a smile.



“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend him,” the desk clerk said. Hermione tried not to laugh at the brownnoser’s plight.



“It’s fine; he has a lot of things on his mind.”



The clerk stared bemusedly as the pretty brunette hurried after the blond man into the lift.







* * * * *



‘He looks gorgeous,’ Hermione thought, trailing behind him as he made his way to his room. His hair was slightly longer, and her heart felt lighter since he clearly wasn’t the emaciated mess she’d imagined.



He turned the key to the room and let her in the entrance with a forcibly polite “Excuse me.”



She took a seat in the sitting area and waited for his return, resisting the urge to sneak a quick look at the notes she’d accumulated for this meeting.



“Ok, you’ve practiced and have come prepared to argue any point he could make. It’ll be just like the mock meetings you practiced.”



She’d been giving herself the same pep-speech since she’d noticed the pale blond head bending forward in the lift. He had only given her enough time to correct her name. His eyes had widened marginally, but otherwise he had no reaction to her presence, and then he had slammed the proverbial door in her face.



* * *



Draco patted his face with a moistened towel, needing the stalling motions rather than using a quick refreshing spell. ‘She couldn’t know about the baby,’ he reassured himself. She’d only been commenting on the state of his physique. He had no idea how she found out where he was staying, but once he got rid of her he was disappearing for good.



He looked at himself in the mirror, carefully schooling his expression into one he’d grown intimate with.



Evening is breath, he squared his shoulders and went to face the know-it-all harpy.



He took the seat across from her on the recliner.



“So… how have you been?” He looked at her incredulously, waiting for her to make her move.



“What is this?” he asked after briefly glancing at the at the object she’d unearthed from her purse.



“A key.”



“I know it’s a key, Granger. Why are you giving me a key for a Gringotts vault?”



“It’s yours.”



“Can’t be; the procedures aren’t finished yet.”



“It’s not from the Ministry. This is the key to a vault made specially for you: the secondary account to Harry’s.” She noticed his flinch. “He set this up for you on the morning he left. ” She pointed to the parchment beside the key. “Please read it.”



“Incendio.”



She watched it go up in flames, and quickly put it out when she thought it would scorch the table.



“Take the damn key and leave,” he ground out.



“I can’t do that. Harry wanted you to have it,” she insisted stubbornly.



“I don’t want anything to do with Him, so consider your part done. You’ve done what He wanted, now get out!”



“I can’t do that,” she insisted.



“Keep it. I’m sure the Weasel will drag you into ruin soon enough, Mudblood, and you’ll need every single Knut.”



Hermione ignored the comment and kept on. “He still loves you.”



Draco started towards the door.



“I know about the baby and it’s only a matter of time before the Ministry knows too,” she rushed out in one breath.



She maintained eye contact, disregarding the wand he was pointing at her. “You know nothing. My child has nothing to do with you, and if you threaten its livelihood in any way, I will kill you.”



He tucked his wand into the pocket of his coat and reached out to grab the doorknob.



“Stupefy!”



Draco’s body went limp and was caught in a clumsy hold.



Hermione stared in horror at the prone form.



“Let’s go, Hermione. I’m not sure how long he’ll stay sleeping.” The tall red head adjusted his hold on Draco and maneuvered him so he was being carried like a baby.



“He doesn’t weigh anything,” he commented, testing the blond’s weight by jostling him up and down.



“Don’t do that, Ron.” She hurried to pack up the key and her purse. “Ron, why would you do that? We agreed that I would handle this.”



“Hermione, you’re a brilliant witch, but your kidding yourself if you think that Malfoy will sit for tea and make nice with you. This is the only way; if you really want to take Malfoy back, this is it.” He shrugged his shoulders and indicated Draco’s face with his chin.



Ron looked on at his wife, at the furrowing of her brow, the stiffening of her shoulders. He knew her answer.



“Ok, lay him down. First, we need to figure out a way to get him out of here.”



END of Chapter 6





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I had to take him by force, Draco would not go quietly

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