Keeping Secrets

A/N: Alright all there is only one more chapter after this so i hope you all enjoy and keep up the good reviews!

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Hermione woke first the next morning. It was still very early and there was only faint light coming through the blue drapes. She smiled as she noted that sometime after she’d fallen asleep Draco had moved the bedspread over them.

She grinned as one of the babies kicked inside her, and moved to free her arm so she could rest her hand over her stomach. This was more difficult than it sounded, because during the night she’d gotten rather tangled together with Draco, and once her arm was free she had to find a comfortable position for it to fit without pushing the hand Draco was already resting there, off.

Eventually she managed to settle comfortably, and feel the babies’ kicks from the outside as well as in. While she felt her children move she watched her new husband sleep.

In the run up to the wedding all Hermione’s thoughts had been geared towards ensuring the wedding went off without a hitch so that they’d all be safe, she hadn’t really spared many thoughts for the actual marriage. It wasn’t until she was lying there in bed with Draco that it truly clicked that this was it, she was married now, and she wouldn’t be getting out of it for a very long time.

It made her breath catch in her throat; this would be the last time she got to share a bed with anyone, the last time she’d wake up wrapped up and held by another person, that it was also the first time too almost stung. But it was what they’d agreed; get through the wedding and that’s it, no expectations beyond mutual safety and protection for the tiny Malfoy’s she held within.

The calm she felt on waking disappeared as she felt a wave of sadness flood over her. She wondered what it would be like to get married and know that she was loved by the person she’d wed. It occurred to her that it would be a very sad and cold life for her to lead, at least until her children arrived to take over all her time. But when they were independent and grown, off to Hogwarts, what would there be for her then?

She shivered and tucked herself as close to Draco as she could. For now, she’d enjoy it.

She must have drifted off to sleep again because the next thing she knew she was blinking up at Draco who had moved to lean on his elbow, head resting in his hand, and the room was more filled with light than it had been before.

“Good morning,” he said when she managed to focus.

“Morning, Draco,” she replied. She was reminded of what she had been thinking of before she’d fallen back to sleep when Draco reached out to touch her but withdrew before actually doing it.

Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from saying some really stupid things.

“We can go down to the dining-room for breakfast, or I could get one of the elves to bring some up?” Draco offered, and he was very obviously trying to change the subject, move on from what he’d nearly done, and was blushing that first, delicate, pink.

“Up here would be good,” Hermione said, then pushed herself up until she was sat leaning against the headboard. “Which door goes to the bathroom?”

“That one,” Draco said indicating the left door along the wall nearest to the side of the bed she was sat.

She stayed for a moment, trying to work out why she felt so reluctant to get out of the bed, and decided that it was because once she left, that was it. That and she didn’t want to walk about naked in front of Draco, no matter what he’d told her the night before.

“Oh, right. The door to the right leads through to a dressing room and our wardrobes, the house elves would have put everything away in there.”

Hermione watched as Draco turned away, giving her some privacy, before she slid out from beneath the covers and off of the bed. She went first through the door on the right, to the dressing room. She picked out a pale pink robe, some underwear and pulled a dressing gown on before moving back through to the bedroom to get to the bathroom. Draco was still sat up in the bed, the blue bedspread draped across his lap, giving instructions to a house elf he’d summoned.

If she hadn’t been pregnant and reluctant to face anyone else who might be in the house, she would have insisted that they go downstairs for breakfast to make less work for the house elves. As it was she gave the elf a small smile when it glanced her way and then entered the bathroom.

The bathroom was just as amazing as the rest of the house that she’d seen. As she looked around the pale marble, gold and silver, she wondered just how much money the Malfoy’s had spent on their manor, and decided that it was probably so much she’d be sick just thinking about it.

She used the toilet and brushed her teeth, thankful the house elves had placed her toiletries bag in the bathroom, then stuck her head around the door to ask if Draco minded her taking a bath or did he want to use the bathroom before filling the huge tub with warm water and frothy, white bubbles and having a relaxing soak.

While she was washing she thought about what her marriage was going to be, and about what it could be, if they gave it a chance. She remembered that she had thought about wanting to have Draco inside of her again, remembered thinking it last night, and decided that she hadn’t changed her mind on that. She remembered how Draco had reached out to touch her this morning, before remembering that he shouldn’t. And she decided that they should really talk about what they wanted from their marriage beyond the safety they had entered into the marriage for.

Hermione sighed and sank down into the bubbles, wiggling her toes through the water. She stayed in the tub for another few minutes before getting out and drying off with fluffy towels and a few helpful hair-care spells.

She re-entered they bedroom and went back to the dressing room as Draco went into the bathroom. She came out of the dressing room in no time at all wearing the pink robe, and went out of the bedroom through to the main room of the suite.

The room was high-ceilinged and had tall sash windows all along one wall. For the home of a Death Eater very close to Voldemort, it was remarkably light-filled and beautiful. There were cream coloured sofas arranged near the fireplace, and the fire was lit, a magical, cornflower blue fire, one that gave off little heat as the sun coming through the window’s was enough to warm the rooms, but it was traditional to always have the fires going in a wizarding home, no matter the time of year. Apart from the sofas was a small table, with a couple of chairs set around it.

The night before the table had hosted a vase of white roses, this morning the roses were resting on the hearth, and the table was set for breakfast.

Hermione curled up on one of the cream sofas and watched the blue flames jump and dance in the grate until Draco came through the double doors to the bedroom.

Draco entering the room must have been some sort of signal because dishes of food had appeared at the table by the time Hermione had joined him there.

“Tuck in, the house elves are good at what they do,” Draco said with a small smile.

Hermione nodded and did so, finding that Draco was right and the food was delicious.

When they were done eating Hermione gathered up all her courage for what was bound to be a difficult conversation.

“Draco…” she started, and for the first time since their silent meal had begun Draco looked directly at her. She licked her lips, and then spoke again. “I don’t know about you, but ever since we agreed to do this I haven’t actually thought about what it would be like, what it would actually mean,” she paused again after that, as Draco broke eye contact and looked resolutely at his empty plate.

“I don’t think I can do it.”

That brought Draco’s eyes straight back to hers. “What, after all this you’re just going to walk away? Don’t you think I’ll keep you three safe?” he said, and Hermione thought that beneath the confusion and anger she could hear a faint thread of hurt.

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Hermione said. “I just don’t know if I can cope with knowing that I’ll never be loved, never held like you held me this morning in your sleep… I don’t think I can be married and not want it to be real.”

By the time she’d finished speaking she felt miserable, felt like her face was on fire, and was looking down at her plate the way Draco had been.

She heard Draco let out a long breath, and was suddenly very afraid that she was about to be kicked out to fend for herself.

“Fine then. If you want to try, I can do that.”

It was Hermione’s turn to look up in surprise. “You’d want that?”

“If it’s what you would like, then yes,” Draco said, reaching across the table and taking her hand in his, squeezing lightly.

Hermione smiled. “Thank you, Draco,” she said then tugged him over to kiss him.