Making Love Out of Nothing At All

Making Love Out of Nothing At All

By Snapes_Goddess


SONG: Making Love Out of Nothing At All
ARTIST: Air Supply
YEAR: 1983

WARNINGS: AU/AR, M/F, Preg, Birth

Premise: Draco is pondering the way his life has unfolded.

A/N: Yes, this was originally posted in the Love Songs: Saving Draco request for song fics but for whatever reason it has been taken down. I am sorry for all those who contributed stories as your lovely reviews have been lost. I hope you repost them as one shots though because you did a wonderful job on them and they deserve to be read!


~@~

I know just how to whisper,
and I know just how to cry;
I know just where to find the answers;
and I know just how to lie.
I know just how to fake it,
and I know just how to scheme;
I know just when to face the truth,
and then I know just when to dream.

~@~

She was standing on the waters edge, the gentle waves lapping at her bare feet as she held the tiny child under his arms and dipped his little toes into the water. She laughed when he squealed and pulled his feet up playfully and waited for her to do it again. It was moments like this that had him looking inside himself, wondering why fate had decided to bless him.

He wasn’t a good man, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he was a better man than he had started out to be. A better man than his father at any rate. He was a Malfoy; he would never get away from that or the legacy that came with it. He was a master manipulator; he had a head for business and a nose for the deals that would be most lucrative for him both financially and politically.


He could lie and scheme with the best of them. Within moments of stepping into the boardroom he could have everyone in the room eating out of the palm of his hand and he loved every moment of it. In business, he was king. At home it was something else entirely.

A year after the war the Muggle/Muggleborn Protection Act went into effect and with it a Marriage Law that stated Pureblood witches and wizards were to be matched to a suitable muggleborn or half-blood counterpart. They intended to breed purebloods out completely. The matching process was carefully done, matching couples based on interests, intellect, magical ability and genetic chemistry.

To his amazement he had been matched with Hermione Granger. At first he had thought it some sort of sick joke that someone in the ministry was playing on him. Then he had seen her sitting in the chair across the room, her head in her hands as she cried, and he knew that it was true. There was a tentative understanding between them after the war, they weren’t friends by any means but neither were they enemies. They simply agreed to exist in peace; at least they had before the Ministry had stepped in.


He remembered so clearly how she looked when he approached her, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. He hadn’t known what to say to her. He wasn’t happy about the match either, but he knew it was a battle he couldn’t win and if Draco had learned anything from his youth it was to choose his battles wisely.


“Come with me.” He had said, holding out his hand. She stared for what seemed like an eternity to him before she laid her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “Crying won’t change anything, Granger. So wipe your eyes and hold your head up high, in a few moments you will be a Malfoy.”


To his surprise she had taken his proffered hankie and wiped away the tears, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. With an arrogance that he didn’t know she possessed she walked at his side to the clerk’s office where they underwent a quick and simple civil ceremony. She signed the register and left with him, her haughty demeanor making him proud though he would never tell her that.


It was rough for them in the beginning. She didn’t trust him and he couldn’t blame her, he had proven himself untrustworthy time and time again over the years. He was man enough to admit that he was a liar, a bully and yes, at times he was very much a coward. He was wary of her as well. She was prone to getting physical with him when he crossed her and while he had inherited his father’s looks and strength, he had not inherited his opinions on how to handle women. While she may physically attack him he would never raise a hand to her, even in his own defense.


Things changed, albeit slowly after several months of dancing around one another in private and in public. They shared the same house but were strangers, neither of them having the courage to take that step towards the other. Then she had found him sitting on the veranda one cool spring evening, a forgotten glass of brandy on the table beside him as he stared out over the lake behind their home.


“What are you doing out here? Come in before you make yourself ill.” Her soft voice ordered from the doorway. She had known what brought him to seek the fresh air, the solitude of night. It was the anniversary of the night he failed to carry out the Dark Lord’s orders, the night that kicked the war into high gear.


“I will be fine, Hermione. Go on to bed and I will see you at breakfast.” He said, not bothering to turn around. He hadn’t heard her approach and he stiffened when he felt her hands on his shoulders as she draped his cloak over him.


“At some point you have to forgive yourself.” She said.

“Have you forgiven me?” He asked softly.

“A long time ago, Draco.” She whispered. He caught his breath when her lips brushed against his temple and she left him alone.

~@~

And I know just where to touch you,
and I know just what to prove;
I know when to pull you closer,
and I know when to let you loose.

~@~

That small gesture had seemed to seal his fate; it opened up something inside him he had thought long buried. The need for approval, the need to be loved, to be wanted and needed by someone else. It was a need that had driven him to bad behavior, that had led him to seek acceptance in all the wrong places.


Over the weeks that followed she had let him get closer to her. She sat with him in the evenings curled into an armchair before the fire in his study reading while he sat at his desk. She began inviting him to join her on walks when the weather was fine and to accompany her on outings to shop or just to go and get an ice cream cone.


As the first year of their marriage came to a close she invited him to accompany her to a Christmas celebration at the Weasley family home. It was a big step for them because she had never taken him to any gatherings with her friends and she only had them over when he was out. He wore a set of black velvet robes to compliment her dress, a bottle of wine cradled in his arm for the host and hostess and a small gift in his pocket for her.


His reception hadn’t exactly been a warm one, not that he had expected it to be. But Hermione surprised him when she looped her arm through his and stood firmly by his side in a show of support, making sure that the others saw that her loyalties lay with her husband. It was one of those defining moments in his life, one of those memories etched so deeply it just can’t be erased.

Gradually her friends had begun to warm to him, including him in conversations and making an effort to see beyond the past, even if was only for Hermione’s sake. As the end of the evening neared they exchanged gifts among them. He ended up with a rather unusual looking pair of hand knitted gloves which he thanked Molly Weasley for politely though he knew he would never wear them.


Hermione slipped a small box into his hand. He was a bit surprised; he hadn’t expected anything from her at all. He smiled and opened the box to find a set of silver and jade cufflinks, the dark green jade carved into small Chinese dragons.

“Thank you. They are incredible.” He said, surprised to have received such a thoughtful gift. She smiled and plucked them from the box and with sure fingers replaces his simple silver ones with the new ones she had given him. “I have something for you too.” He said, reaching into his pocket. He held out the small red velvet box in the palm of his hand and waited for her to take it.

She had tilted her head to the side, an odd little smile on her face as she left it in his hand but lifted the lid. She stepped back, startled by the beautiful solitaire diamond with the square cut baguettes marching down either side of the band.


“Draco?” She stared at it as though it might bite her at any moment, oblivious to the shocked gasps and impressed “ahhs” of the others present.

“I never gave you a wedding ring.” He said, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment as she hadn’t accepted his gift yet, she just stared at it.


“Oi, Mate, she’s a girl, you might want to make the grand gesture.” Bill Weasley said with a laugh from behind him. Draco furrowed his brow for a moment, then it hit him what the werewolf was talking about. So he took the ring from the box and reached for her hand, sliding it onto her finger. It was a perfect fit.


Ginny began to giggle and pointed above their heads where a small bush of fresh mistletoe had sprouted. Draco let his eyes drift from the plant to his wife, waiting for her to give him some indication of what he was supposed to do. She had smiled, stepped close to him. Thankfully, Arthur Weasley stepped in and cleared the room, giving them a moment alone.

Those next seconds went by so slowly as he brought his hands to her face, his fingertips stroking her cheeks before he lowered his lips to hers. Her arms had gone around his waist and there in the middle of a ramshackle living room, Draco had kissed his wife for the very first time. On and on the kiss went until the clearing of a throat interrupted them, Harry stood in the doorway smiling as he told them everyone else had gone on home and that it was time they did the same.

~@~


And I know the night is fading,
and I know that time's gonna fly;
and I'm never gonna tell you everything
I've got to tell you,
but I know I've got to give it a try.


~@~


For two months Draco kissed her every chance he got and he wasn’t the only one seeking out the exchange. She would often turn to him and put her arms around him to kiss him for no reason. He loved those moments, when she gave him her affection so easily.


It was a night in late January when things changed dramatically between them. They had been curled on the sofa in the solarium, a chenille throw tossed over them as the snow came down. Mugs of half finished hot chocolate sat on the table as they kissed and touched in the glass enclosed room.

He laid her back on the sofa, resting beside her as his lips moved over hers, parting, licking, sucking gently at hers. One arm was curled beneath her head and his other was draped over her, his hand curved around her hip as he loved her mouth the way he longed to love her body.


She tightened her hold in his hair, pulling his mouth harder against hers as her hips lifted and rolled into his. Things usually ended at this point, they would ease off of one another and with a few last tentative kisses they would go their separate ways to their separate bedchambers to sleep alone. That night when she laid her hands against his chest it wasn’t to push him away, it was to undo his buttons and slide her hands over the smooth, heated muscle hidden beneath.


She took his hand and slid it beneath the thin cotton of her tee shirt, encouraging him to touch her. When he filled his palm with soft, round breast he was lost. In short order clothes were discarded and tossed in every direction. Finally they were skin to skin as he settled between her thighs.


“Be sure, Hermione.” He whispered. Her reply was to reach between them and guide him inside her. Sinking into her snug, wet heat was like coming home. It was where he was meant to be, locked tight within his wife’s body. He moved slowly at first, savoring the slick glide of flesh within flesh, the loving caress of her muscles gloving his erection as he moved.


Passion reminiscent of their youth flared between them and they caught fire. It was a battle between them as they strained together, each of them giving and taking with equal fervor. Their lips and bodies coming together with bruising force as they rode the wave of lust and something else that neither was ready to indentify. When it crested they were overwhelmed, crashing together and holding on desperately as the power of their joining manifested in a shimmering glow of magic around them.


~@~

And I know the roads to riches,
and I know the ways to fame;
I know all the rules
and then I know how to break 'em
and I always know the name of the game.

~@~


He moved her into the master suite after that night; he needed to have her close. His first taste of her had only whetted his appetite and he longed to gorge himself on her again and again. Their marriage moved from one of necessity into one filled with incredible passion. The days filled with the mundane and ordinary and the nights with passion and magic.

The desire grew, as did that unnamed feeling that surged within him every time he thought of her. He would spend hours trying to figure it out, to decipher what it was made him feel as though he could barely breathe without her. Was it love?


He didn’t know, he had nothing to base the emotion on. It was foreign territory to him. Ask him about investments and business mergers and he could make you wealthy in short order. Ask him if he loved his wife and he would flounder.


He would sit and stare at her for hours while she read, ignoring his work as he struggled to define his feelings. He began to wonder if she was having as hard a time as he was. Did she love him?

He had asked his mother, “How do you know?”

“When the thought of life without them makes you so sick to your stomach you can barely function. When you can overlook every fault, every mistake because you just can’t walk away.” She said, smiling at him in that disconcerting way that told him she knew something he didn’t but wasn’t willing to let him in on the secret.


Looking at her he no longer saw a bushy haired know it all mudblood. He saw a woman, beautiful, intelligent and pure of heart if not of blood. He thought of leaving her and his chest seized painfully. The idea of life without her making his stomach knot and ache. How? How did it happen?

~@~


But I don't know how to leave you,
and I'll never let you fall;
and I don't know how you do it,
making love out of nothing at all


~@~

“Hermione?” He whispered into the dark of their room. She shifted against him, her nose nuzzling the side of his throat.

“Mmmmhmmm.” She sighed as she curled closer, absorbing the heat of his body.

“Do you love me?” He asked softly as his fingers stroked through her silky curls. She opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at him.

“Why would you ask me such a thing, Draco?” She asked, searching his eyes.

“I just want…I need to know. Do you?” He asked again. There was a long pause, then the corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile.


“Yes, I love you, Draco.” She whispered as she pushed his hair out of his face with her fingertips. “I love you very, very much.”

The anguished sound that was ripped from his chest was involuntary as he wrapped his arms around her like a vise and rolled her beneath him. He kissed her in a way that he had never kissed her before. His lips were bruising hers and she could taste the saline flavor of tears. She clasped his head between her hands and pulled back from him, looking into watery blue eyes.


“What is this all about, Draco?”


“I…I love you.” He said, a sob of relief escaping before he could stop it as he dropped his head into her shoulder and held on for dear life as she stroked his back. When he woke the next morning he was still lying on top of her, his face buried in her neck and her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders.


~@~


Every time I see you all the rays of the sun
are streaming through the waves in your hair;
and every star in the sky is taking aim
at your eyes like a spotlight,
The beating of my heart is a drum, and it's lost
and it's looking for a rhythm like you.
You can take the darkness from the pit of the night
and turn into a beacon burning endlessly bright.
I've got to follow it, 'cause everything I know, well it's nothing till I give it to you.


~@~

A year later he had sat at her bedside, her tiny hand in his as she struggled through labor with their first child. It hadn’t been planned but he refused to refer to it as an accident, preferring to say that the baby was a surprise. When she told him she was pregnant he wasn’t immediately thrilled. His child would be the first half-blood Malfoy; he would be the first to dilute the bloodline.


Other thoughts began to creep in at the same time. What right did he have bringing a child into the world? He was a former death eater, arrogant and spoiled to the point of being ruined. What kind of father would he make? What if his child turned out just like him? What if it was shunned? What if no one, even his parents, accepted a half-blood child?


Then as quickly as those thoughts came they died away when Hermione took his hand and laid it over her still flat belly and smiled.


“Little one, meet your Daddy.” She said softly. His capacity for love doubled with those words and he had pulled her into his arms and held her, rocking her back and forth while whispering how much he loved her into her ear.


Slowly her figure rounded with his child, her tummy becoming prominent as the baby grew within her. He couldn’t help but touch her. He found himself constantly laying his hands on her rounded belly regardless of where they were and who they were with. His mother found it adorable and his father found it weak that he was so enamored of his pregnant wife. If anything her fuller figure made him desire her more.

They had spent hours pacing the house when her labor started. Walking around the grounds as they attempted to speed things along until she couldn’t take another step and he had carried her back inside to their room. She insisted on having the baby at home, naturally and as she squeezed all of the feeling from his fingers he wished he had insisted on the hospital and pain relief.


“Mr. Malfoy…come look.” The midwife said from the foot of the bed. Draco scooted as far as he could without letting go of Hermione’s hand and watched as the small, round head slipped free of her body. With one more push and a gentle shift of the child’s shoulders his son entered the world with a lusty wail that reverberated in the room.


“Ha!” The sharp bark of joy was all he could manage as he stared in awe at the screaming child writhing on the sheet as he was instructed on how to cut the umbilical cord. A house-elf whisked the baby away for but a moment, cleaning him up and wrapping him in a thick blanket before returning him to his parents.

Draco cradled the child awkwardly in his arms. He had never held a baby before, never really been around any but he would swear to all that was holy that a more beautiful and obviously brilliant child had never been born. With teary eyes he looked over at his wife, she was exhausted but managed to smile as she stared at the two of them.


“We did this.” He said.


“Our love did this.” She replied.

~@~

I can make the run or stumble,
I can make the final block;
And I can make every tackle, at the sound of the whistle,
I can make all the stadiums rock.
I can make tonight forever,
Or I can make it disappear by the dawn;
And I can make you every promise that has ever been made,
And I can make all your demons be gone.


~@~

Now he stood on the veranda and watched his wife as she played with their son. Noland Draco Malfoy was the best gift that anyone could ever give him. He couldn’t help but smile as the boy squealed again when his toes hit the icy water. Hermione lifted him high, the sunlight catching the gold highlights in his straight sandy hair as she kissed his tummy then hugged him close before setting him back in the grass.

“Daddy!” The toddler ran towards him, stumbling and falling flat on his face in the grass. It didn’t stop him for long; he was back on his clumsy little feet and running towards him again within moments.

“How is my little man today?” Draco asked as he picked his child up and settled him in his arm. Noland toyed with the serpent tie pin and smiled broadly, he had his mother’s smile.

“Water!” He shouted, clapping his hands happily. Noland was more loved than any child could possibly be. Even his grandfather had seen beyond blood purity to the joy of loving and being loved by his grandchild.


“You have dirt on your chin.” Draco said, using his handkerchief to wipe the smudge away.

“It is time for his bath anyhow.” Hermione said as she walked towards him, the soft swelling of her belly accentuated by the cotton sundress she wore. A servant popped into view and reached for the child, wincing a bit when the young master tugged on its ears before carrying him inside for his bath.


“You look beautiful.” He said, reaching out to pull her close for a kiss.


“I look pregnant.” She laughed.


“I love how you look pregnant.” He said, bending at the waist to kiss the little bump. “How is Daddy’s girl doing today?” He asked softly. A soft push against his lips was his answer.


“What about me? Don’t you want to know how I am doing?” She teased, ruffling his hair as he kissed her belly again before rising.


“How is my heart doing today?” He asked, brushing his lips lightly against hers.

“Better now that you are home.” She sighed, leaning into him. “Always better when you are with me.”

“I would be no where else. I can’t live without you.” He said, hugging her tight.

“Mmmm….I love you, Draco.” She sighed, basking in the warmth of his affection.


Draco smiled and held her, real happiness flowing through him as he thought about his life. They had taken an impossible situation and they made a life for themselves, a family. They had done what no one thought possible, they began with nothing and ended with love.

~@~

But I'm never gonna make it without you,
Do you really want to see me crawl?
And I'm never gonna make it like you do,
Making love out of nothing at all.


~@~

MAKING LOVE OUT OF NOTHING AT ALL


I know just how to whisper,
and I know just how to cry;
I know just where to find the answers;
and I know just how to lie.
I know just how to fake it,
and I know just how to scheme;
I know just when to face the truth,
and then I know just when to dream.
And I know just where to touch you,
and I know just what to prove;
I know when to pull you closer,
and I know when to let you loose.
And I know the night is fading,
and I know that time's gonna fly;
and I'm never gonna tell you everything
I've got to tell you,
but I know I've got to give it a try.
And I know the roads to riches,
and I know the ways to fame;
I know all the rules
and then I know how to break 'em
and I always know the name of the game.

But I don't know how to leave you,
and I'll never let you fall;
and I don't know how you do it,
making love out of nothing at all
(Making love)
out of nothing at all,
(making love)
out of nothing at all,
(making love)
out of nothing at all,
(making love)
out of nothing at all,
(making love)
out of nothing at all
(making love)
out of nothing at all.


Every time I see you all the rays of the sun
are streaming through the waves in your hair;
and every star in the sky is taking aim
at your eyes like a spotlight,
The beating of my heart is a drum, and it's lost
and it's looking for a rhythm like you.
You can take the darkness from the pit of the night
and turn into a beacon burning endlessly bright.
I've got to follow it, 'cause everything I know, well it's nothing till I give it to you.


I can make the run or stumble,
I can make the final block;
And I can make every tackle, at the sound of the whistle,
I can make all the stadiums rock.
I can make tonight forever,
Or I can make it disappear by the dawn;
And I can make you every promise that has ever been made,
And I can make all your demons be gone.


But I'm never gonna make it without you,
Do you really want to see me crawl?
And I'm never gonna make it like you do,
Making love out of nothing at all.


(Making love)
out of nothing at all
(making love)
out of nothing at all
(making love)
out of nothing at all
(making love)
out of nothing at all
(making love)
out of nothing at all
(making love)
out of nothing at all
(making love)