Tea in the Afternoon

Draco and Hermione having tea
With Lucius Malfoy - can it be?
Yes, it\'s true,
Time\'s up for these two,
The sequel is done, just look and see!

Tea in the Afternoon
Jada Rene
A companion piece for “Toast in the Morning.”

Disclaimer: All characters are property of JKRowling, Warner Bros, Raincoast, etc. No infringement intended, and no money is being made!


Pairings: Draco/Hermione
Rating: R
Thanks to: zennousha for beta reading so quickly!


“Oh, shit,” were the first words out of Draco’s mouth when he and Hermione returned to Hogwarts. Hermione stopped short. Professor McGonagall was standing at the entrance to the school with a very uncomfortable looking Harry Potter. Her lips were pursed so tight they practically disappeared into her face. It was definitely not a good sign. Draco gave Hermione’s hand a quick squeeze before dropping it. They proceeded cautiously toward their professor.

“Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall,” Hermione greeted her mentor quietly.

The professor’s sour expression didn’t change a bit as she said, “Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, your presence is requested at once in the Headmaster’s office. Follow me.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry offered morosely as thll tll trudged up the steps.

“It’s all right, Harry,” Hermione whispered. She and Draco had expected they’d be in trouble for skipping classes. She wondered just how much Harry had told, though. She wondered if the professors knew that she and Draco had spent yesterday morning eloping, and yesterday night consummating their new marriage. She blushed at the memory, feeling a pleasant tingle of warmth from her wedding band. She looked up to see Draco pressing his own wedding ring to lip lips. She gave him a smile as they continued on their path to Professor Dumbledore’s office.

The elderly headmaster smiled kindly at the foursome and Hermione heartened a bit. Dumbledore turned to the transfiguration teacher and said, “I think you can take Mr. Potter to his detention, now. I will attend to matters here.”

“Come along, Potter,” McGonagall said, sweeping back the way she’d come. Harry followed her dismally, casting one last ‘I’m sorry’ glance over his shoulder at Hermione. Dumbledore offered Draco and Hermione seats across from him.

“Tea?” he asked. They both shook their heads, Hermione feeling that she was a little too nervous to handle a teacup properly, and wishing the headmaster would get their sentencing over with. Dumbledore looked at them finally and said, “Well, I understand that congratulations are in order, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger…or shall I say Mrs. Malfoy?”

The headmaster chuckled and Draco’s mouth gaped a moment before he said, “Potter told you?”

“Oh, don’t be too hard on him,” Dumbledore said. “Professor Snape wanted to administer veritaserum to ascertain your safety, but Harry assured us that you were quite well. He did not want to tell, but did so out of concern for you both.”

Draco muttered something under his breath, while Hermione waited for the inevitable punishment to be handed down. Dumbledore continued on, “I tried to keep this confidential, but somehow word always gets out.”

Draco and Hermione exchanged uneasy glances as Dumbledore confirmed, “Yes, that means that your parents have been informed. When you first went missing they were contacted to be sure you hadn’t gone home, so when we learned of your safety we passed along that information.”

He took a sip of tea and waited for a moment, savoring it apparently. Then he said, “Well, truancy is not well-tolerated by this school, so I’m afraid that any work you’ve missed is at the teacheriscriscretion whether or not to allow.”

“Of course,” Hermione said. She hated giving up homework points. She hoped most of the professors would permit them to turn in their assignments for at least partial credit. She chanced a glance at Draco. He was staring dully forward, as if he didn’t see anything at all, but rather focused on some image inside his mind. She furrowed her brow slightly and looked back to Dumbledore.

“Well, I think you’d best get off to dinner,” Dumbledore said, giving his teacup a tap with his wand. It cleaned itself and flew to the shelf behind him.

Hermione stood and tugged Draco’s sleeve to draw him up. They started for the door but were stopped short by the headmaster’s voice. “One more thing.”

Hermione felt her stomach knot; she knew they wouldn’t get away without punishment. They both turned back to the professor and waited his judgment. He shuffled over to them and held out his hand. “I think you’ll be needing this.”

Draco received a silver key and gave Dumbledore a quizzical look. “What’s this for?”

“Your new accommodations,” Dumbledore said. “But, please, don’t speak to any of the other students about this. It simply would not send the appropriate message.”

“Thank you, sir,” Draco said, stunned.

“Oh, don’t thank me,” Dumbledore said. “This was your father’s doing.”

“My…my father?” Draco stumbled over the words. Hermione gave him a clutching gaze and waited. “We’re not leaving the school, are we?”

“Oh, no,” Dumbledore said. “I insisted you remain here on Hogwarts grounds. The key is to a private room for you. It is a bit small, but it will suit your purposes. Off you go.”

“But, wait, professor,” Draco said as he was being ushered out. “Where is the room?”

Dumbledore smiled benevolently at them. “I don’t know.”

**

Draco pulled at his tie in frustration. He had known there would be problems, that feces would fly into the fan upon their return, but to know that his father already knew of his elopement… Draco had sincerely hoped for a few days to sort out a better plan than he had at the moment, which currently was along the lines of “Run!” That would never do anyway, as Malfoys do not “run!”

He turned over the key in his palm and looked at it dumbly. “How the hell are we supposed to find this stupid room, anyway?”

“I think Harry can help us,” Hermione said gently.

“Great,” Draco muttered. “My first act as a married man is to go running to the famous Harry Potter for help.”

“Draco,” Hermione chided, pinning a look on him.

He was instantly contrite as he laced his fingers with hers and said, “I’m sorry. I had hoped our parents would find out from us.”

She smiled sympathetically. “Me, too.”

She tugged at him, taking him all the way up to Gryffindor Tower with her. Harry was waiting for them in the common room.

“Trouble much?” he asked.

Hermione shook her head. “With you?”

“Detention,” he smiled.

“We need your help,” Hermione said. Harry waited. “The map?”

“The map?” Harry repeated pointedly.

“Yes,” she emphasized. “We need to see where our new rooms are.”

Harry’s face split into a grin and he pulled the paper out of his back pocket, tapped it with his wand and said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Draco watched in fascination as a map appeared on the parchment and little dots flittered about the page in various patterns. Hermione bent over it, scrutinizing every inch until at last she found it.

“There,” she said, pointing at a square room labeled “Malfoy Quarters.” She looked at Draco, “That’s not a library annex, is it?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve never heard of it.”

So Hermione and Draco set off downstairs, passing the library and winding their way to a seldom used area of the castle. They found a small door which they surmised had to be their new home. Draco turned the key in the lock and opened it to find a small bedroom adequately furnished with an ornate double bed and thick green accoutrements. A pale envelope rested alone on the dark dresser.

Draco recognized the seal immediately; the letter was from his father. Shit, shit, shit. He broke the seal and hastily scanned the contents.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he said, repeating it aloud this time for Hermione’s benefit.

“What?” his wife asked worriedly.

“My father,” Draco said darkly.

Hermione felt frightened; what on earth did Lucius Malfoy have planned for them?

“He’s invited us to the manor tomorrow. He’ll expect us for tea in the afternoon.”

It was Hermione’s turn to swear. “Shit, shit, shit!”

**

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Hermione said for the thousandth time.

“I have no choice,” Draco said. “Please believe that I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Oh, Draco,” she said. “It’s not that I think you wouldn’t protect me, it’s just that there are so many things outside of our control. And I’d be a fool not to fear Lucius Malfoy.”

Draco smiled tightly. “Anyone would. I have to go, with or without you, and frankly I’d rather have you at my side.”

She put her hand on his arm trustingly. “Very well.”

With a mutual deep breath, Draco and Hermione touched the portkey Lucius Malfoy had sent.

“Oh,” Draco said, looking disorientedly at the main entrance to the manor.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked uneasily.

“I find it odd that he’s treating me like a guest now,” Draco said, his tone betraying not the slightest hint of bemusement. “Usually he’d have me summoned right to his study for one of his brilliant lectures on what it means to be a Malfoy.”

Draco pressed the bell and waited. His mother answered the ring momentarily and embraced her son happily.

“Draco,” Narcissa Malfoy said, enveloping the blond boy and holding him close for a moment. Draco’s face was slightly red when he stepped back so that he could introduce Hermione. Narcissa smiled politely and held the door wide for them to enter.

The place was amazing; Hermione had never seen such a luxurious home. The wide staircase was thickly carpeted and the home was tastefully decorated with a variety of artwork. The newlyweds followed Draco’s mother into the parlor where tea was waiting for them.

When they had been seated for several moments and had enough time to build up the proper amount of tension and anxiety, Lucius Malfoy made his entrance. He smiled coolly and Draco returned in kind. Hermione tried to smile, but found her lips were frozen on her face.

As tea was poured, she held her composure, willing her hand not to tremble as she reached for her cup. She had her wand and she’d hex him into oblivion if he tried anything. She watched Lucius warily, waiting for him to do something evil.

He smiled again. Hermione was learning to hate that habit of his.

“Well,” he said at length, still smiling entirely too much for Hermione’s comfort, “I suppose there’s no sense in dancing around the subject. Congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you,” Draco said, managing not to look like he’d missed a step. Hermione echoed his sentiment in a hollow voice.

“Now, then, I had a nice chat with the headmaster,” Lucius continued, fluttering his spoon through his tea with silent, fluid motions. He removed the spoon and looked up at his son. “He understands the requirements of the marriage contract and the concessions that must be made to accommodate them… And speaking of accommodations, were the arrangements to your liking?”

“Yes, thank you,” Draco said politely. Hermione managed a tight smile that time.

“Good, then your mother and I will eagerly await news from you,” Lucius said.

Draco’s brow furrowed. “News…about what, father?”

Lucius’s insidious smile grew even wider as he said, “Why, of when to expect our first grandchild. That is, unless you’re already…”

He looked at Hermione, who had the decency to blush furiously at his implication and say immediately, “Of course not!”

Lucius chuckled, her discomfort amusing him to no end. “Very well. We shall await your announcement then.”

“Well, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione said coldly, “I can assure you that it won’t be for quite some time.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “You only have one year to produce a Malfoy heir, my dear. What exactly is your idea of ‘quite some time?’ ”

“One year?” Hermione sputtered, setting her teacup unsteadily onto its saucer with a tiny clink. “But I’m not ready… I mean…”

She looked to Draco for help and he stepped in, saying, “Father, when we choose to have children, you and mother will be the first to know.”

“Draco, my son,” Lucius said. “Did you even read your marriage contract before you ran off to elope?”

Draco inhaled sharply. He should have realized there would be loopholes. No wonder his father was smiling; he pred hed himself for the worst. “Perhaps you should redefine it for me, sir.”

“Very well,” Lucius’s tone of bemusement carrying into each syllable. “The marriage contract states that upon your marriage to a witch, you will have one year in which to produce an heir for the Malfoy family. If an heir is not produced by the first anniversary, the marriage is declared void. It is no matter if you don’t want to have children, my dear. Draco can always find another witch more willing.”

“And more suitable?” Hermione goaded him unwisely, her eyes swimming with hatred as she stared him down.

“Well, I admit your lineage is not my ideal choice,” Lucius said, “but you are the cleverest witch to come out of Hogwarts in a decade. And the child will still be a pureblood, although a first generation one, so he will be forgiven, should you decide to honor the stipulations of the marriage contract.”

“She doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want,” Draco said plainly. “It does not matter if it voids the contract, I will simply marry her again.”

Hermione smiled, heartened by his courage. Lucius punctured it, of course. “I’m afraid there’s a clause to prevent you from marrying the same woman twice.”

“Fine,” Hermione said. “We’ll live together then.”

Her cheeks burned a little, but she was fiercely glad she’d spoken up. Lucius looked at her with patience in his cool eyes. “I don’t imagine Draco’s next wife will be as understanding as you assume.”

He took a sip of tea and then continued, “When I saw Ms. Granger’s name-”

“Mrs. Malfoy, if you please,” Hermione broke in boldly.

Lucius smirked at her, bowed his head in mock deference and corrected himself, “Of course. When I saw the new Mrs. Malfoy’s name magically appear on the marriage contract, naturally I was surprised. However, the entire point of the contract was to guarantee heirs for the family, and so as long as that task is completed, I really don’t care who my son takes to his bed.”

If Narcissa had anything to say, she was clearly keeping it to herself, taking tiny, feminine sips of her tea, her face giving the impression of painted porcelain.

“So…” Draco said slowly to his father. “We have one year to provide an heir and if we do that, then you won’t challenge the nuptials?”

Lucius smiled frost and said, “No, son. As long as you provide me with a legitimate grandchild, we will have no recour

“Draco!” Hermione said, upset at what his statement implied.

“We do have a year,” Draco said. Hermione swallowed a bitter remark and stared at his shirt buttons stonily.

“Well, Draco,” Lucius said, standing up. “Good luck.”

He nodded toward Hermione, chilling her very marrow when he said silkily, “Mrs.foy.foy.”

She shivered involuntarily as they got to their feet. Draco kissed his mother’s cheek and promised to owl. She felt as though she was floating through a dream, no, a nightmare… She and Draco grasped the portkey and were whisked back to Hogwarts without delay.


“What are we going to do?” Hermione practically wailed when they were safely shut in their room together. Draco put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed light circles on her skin.

“It’ll be okay,” he said soothingly.

“But-” she started to say.

He shushed her gently with a kiss on the lips as he tugged her toward the bed. In his arms, Hermione forgot that afternoon’s tea, forgot Lucius Malfoy’s insidious smile, forgot to breathe when Draco touched her with his imperial fingers. Her clothes came away, as did his, and she welcomed him between the sheets with parted thighs. He held her close, rocking her till she panted his name in reverent repetition.

“Oh, DracoDracoDracoDracoDraco…”

He smiled into her neck and moved faster, harder, until she cried out for him in frantic ecstasy. One more kiss and he followed her willingly.

They slept away the afternoon in sated bliss.


**

For three agonizing months they avoided talking about it. Avoided the entire subject of Draco’s family or the proposed child. Avoided anything except talk of school and Quidditch and mundane trivialities and managed to lose that edge of soul-shattering togetherness they had had when they’d gotten married. Hermione felt it slipping away, knew it was because they were both worried and tense and too afraid of the future to speak their fears aloud. She hated it, hated Lucius for putting up this wall between them. Damn his hide to the dark recesses of hell, she thought with a black heart. But she didn’t dare say this to Draco.

Instead they went on living more and more as roommates, straining things to a thin, taut line that made for infrequent love-making sessions, which in turn only served to heighten their emotional torture. Sometimes in the very pitch of midnight they would find one another, and she would wrap her arms and legs around him as before and hiss his name into the darkness. She wanted to hear him, but lately he was being very quiet. It was unnerving. She considered taking up smoking just for the hell of it, for something to keep her from flying apart at the seams. She considered it, but dismissed it almost immediately. No, better she should find a useful solution to her problem. Better she should do something…productive.

She found what she was looking for in an ancient book in the restricted section. She borrowed Harry’s cloak and read it in the middle of the afternoon with people packing the library. No one noticed her, and in a school full of magic, no one paid particular attention to the sound of a scratching quill where none was to be seen.

It took a whole month to brew the potion. She feared the taste, feared what she was making, feared Draco would catch her and what? Talk to her again? She choked on a bitter laugh as she stirred the concoction, swirling the cauldron’s thick bark-colored contents, staring blindly at her mixture. Tomorrow she would drink a full cup. After that, then she’d see if things got better or worse.

**

Draco watched Hermione nervously, willing his hands not to shake as he reached for the juice pitcher. He was sitting across from her at a tiny table in their room, having a breakfast he’d gotten the house elves to cater for them. They had classes in a half hour. He filled her glass, being careful not to spill. He poured liquid into his own glass, too, but he did not drink. He did not eat, either. He merely watched her from under blond lashes. She was not looking at him. She systematically shredded a sticky bun, letting the pulverized pieces land on her plate. She took a sip of her juice, wrinkled her nose and set the cup down ag Dra Draco held his breath, just staring at her, watching her fingers grow sticky with icing. She took another absent sip of juice and seemed to remember the taste too late. She set the glass down on the table with trembling hands. Then without warning, she jumped up and ran to the bathroom. Draco hung his head.

Slowly he rose from his seat and glided to the door separating them. He thought he heard her stifled sobs from the other side. Draco leaned heavily on the door, eyes shut tight against the tears threatening him.

What had he done?


Alone in the bathroom, Hermione decided it was now or never. She found her vial under the sink and unstoppered it. She drank it down in one gulp, shuddering as the raw taste burned down her throat. She clutched her stomach as the potion writhed around inside her, threatening to hurl itself out of her body.

After a few moments she felt better. She splashed water on her face and rinsed her mouth. Draco knocked softly on the door.

“Hermione?”

She opened the door and pasted a smile on her wan face.

“Are you all right?” His features were drawn tight with worry, giving him a pained look that aimed to break her heart. Hermione held her arms out to him and he embraced her, relief pouring through him like warm water, like milk and honey. Somehow his lips found hers. She pulled him toward the bed.

“We’ve got class…” he started to protest, but the dark look of lust in her eyes made it impossible for him to think about anything but darting his pink tongue between the secret folds of her body until she moaned. They cast their clothes haphazardly around the room and finally, finally, after so long, made love they way they used to, they way they needed to. With a near-sob Hermione felt certain she’d done the right thing. She was deceiving him, yes, but it was for them both, for their future. Surely someday he would understand. She held him in her arms and ezedezed him tight when he shivered her name. She smiled to herself. Yes, they were finally finding their way back to one another.

It felt good.


**


She felt funny the next day. A little out of sorts and dizzy. She struggled to keep her mind on her schoolwork, and more importantly, off her little deception. She chewed her lower lip, trying to focus on what the professor was saying. She wondered how long she would have to wait before the potion did what it was supposed to. She forced herself to concentrate, to not think about it. She was going to make herself sick at this rate.

The days wore on and that gnawing feeling in her stomach began to grow, eating her from the inside. She wondered if she ought to confess to Draco. This worrying and deception was going to make her ill. Then one morning she sat straight up in bed and she knew.

She ran to the bathroom and threw up violently, unable to contain the half-digested food or the sound. Draco padded in after her and held her long hair while she vomited everything out of herself. There were tears in her eyes when she sat back and wiped her sour mouth with a trembling hand. He looked at her, his steady gray gaze boring into her soul, asking her without words what he could do. She felt his helplessness as she stared back at him. She forced herself to speak.

“Draco… I think I’m pregnant.”

He took her in his arms and just held her tightly. Tears squeezed from both their eyes as Draco smoothed her wild hair.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione,” he said, his voice a tremor as he whispered to her. “But it will be all right. You’ll see. I’ll take care of you. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Draco,” she said, clutching him. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

“You’re not?” He sat back and regarded her a moment. Now he looked as though he was going to be sick. “You should be.”

“Why?” she asked desperately. “Don’t you want the child? I love you, DraThisThis child is a part of both of us.”

She felt it again, that gnawing sense that things were coming apart at the seams.

“Yes, of course, of course, I love you and I love the baby,” he said, an edge of anguish tinting his words. “But you don’t understand. It’s my fault, Hermione. It’s my fault you’re pregnant. I just couldn’t bear to lose you. I couldn’t bear to lose you over some stupid loophole in my father’s fucking contract.”

“It’s not your fault, Draco,” she hastened ssurssure him. “We both had sex; we’re married. This is not your fault. If anything it’s…it’s my fault.”

He looked up at her, confusion swimming in the slate eyes. She lowered her gaze to her hands and spoke quietly.

“It’s my fault, Draco…I…I took a potion,” she said, her tone eerily serene. “I got pregnant on purpose. I’m so, so sorry. I should never have made a decision like that without you. I just felt so…so…”“Pow“Powerless?”

“Yes,” she whispered. He tilted her chin up, his eyes finding hers as he offered her a weak smile.

“I know the feeling,” he said. “I hope you can forgive me when you hear my confession.”

She stared at him blindly for a moment. His fingers tightened around hers as he spoke. “Please, please, please don’t hate me, but I think you should go see Madame Pomfrey right away.”

“Now?” Hermione said, looking down at her vomit-stained pajamas. “Why on earth do I have to go see her right now?”

“Because,” he answered with a humorless smile. “I think you took the same potion twice.”


**


In the end, Hermione had decided it would have been hypocritical of her to slap him or upbraid him for essentially doing the exact same thing that she had done. She got dressed and allowed him to take her to the infirmary.

Madame Pomfrey on the other hand was rather agitated with them and lectured them both on their immense stupidity. She shook a finger at them and said she was calling the headmaster. Thas ris right after she’d confirmed Hermione’s suspicion; she was indeed pregnant.

“Well,” Draco said, settling at her side with his arm around her. “Everything will work out, you’ll see.”

The headmaster appeared several minutes later, shuffling into the room in his merry way.

“Congratulations,” Dumbledore said, smiling. “You’ll both serve detention with Mr. Filch tonight for brewing an illegal potion on school grounds. And if you’re thinking it’s light punishment, I just want to let you know that you’ve already punished yourselves significantly though you don’t realize it yet. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, do either of you know what happens when you consume a double dose of that particular cocktail?”

Hermione wrinkled her nose, trying to recall. She had to admit she was stymied. “No, sir.”

Dumbledore chuckled in his quiet way. “Well, my dear, you don’t know it yet, but you’ve just guaranteed the Malfoy family a set of triplets.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped and Draco’s face split so wide into a grin she thought it might crack his face. Dumbledore scuffled out again, leaving the two of them alone together.

“Fuck, we’re idiots,” Hermione said, but she couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up. Draco laughed along with her.

“Yeah,” he agreed, hugging her close. “Two idiots in love. Two complete and utter idiots!”

“Idiots about to have triplets!” Hermione amended, trying to make the awesome statement seem a reality.

“Oh, gods,” Draco moaned, unable to contain his merry snickering. “Wethatthat ought to fulfill that stupid contract in spades. I can’t wait to see the look on my father’s face.”

“He can wait a bit,” she said, drawing Draco down for a kiss. “Let’s just keep it our little secret for now.”

He kissed her deeply and with a sigh said, “How about breakfast?”

She nodded and they threaded their way through the castle to the dining hall. Draco paused with his hand on the door and said, “You know, I’m glad to know we’ll have this beautiful secret between us for a while. I’ll look at you and I’ll know and my heart will fly away.”

Hermione smiled at him. “Yes. Our little secret.”

He pushed open the door and they stepped through. The first thing they saw was Harry standing under a sign bewitched to blink and change colors. There, spelled out in enormous letters were the words, “Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy!”

Harry found his way to them and kissed Hermione’s cheek. “Sorry, but hell, it was too funny to pass up.”

They watched as the banner exploded into sparkles and hundreds of tiny pink and blue sugar-candy baby bottles rained down on the hall. Harry caught one and popped it in his mouth. Draco picked one out of his hair and looked at it a moment. Then he looked up at Harry.

“I’m going to kill you!” He lunged at Harry but Harry dodged and ran screaming into the throng of students. Hermione could only smile and shake her head. Draco had been right. Everything had turned out perfectly after all.


End.