Splitsville

Hermione sipped coffee and watched people pass in the large windows of the café where she was waiting for her girlfriend.

It was the last straw. The snide comments in the Daily Prophet on the most important endeavour of her Ministry career - the house-elf liberation.

… The recent cocktail party fundraiser benevolently hosted by Draco and Hermione Malfoy is certain to make it into the society annals as one of the most talked-about events of the year.

According to Narcissa Malfoy, it took more than three hundred house-elves, all property of the Malfoy family, to make the fundraiser possible.

A long-time champion of house-elf liberation, Hermione Malfoy evidently saw it appropriate to use the slave labour, as she often referred to it, for the good cause…”

That was it. The party had been planned for months but Hermione, overwhelmed with her work at the Ministry, let her guard slide. Narcissa, who was always eager for the spotlight, employed her guerrilla tactics and soon took over every part of the process. When Hermione awoke to the reality and confronted her mother-in-law, Narcissa’s explanation was that she had informed Draco of everything. Which was a lame excuse because Draco was too absorbed in his business to listen to his Mum’s chatter. Draco avoided direct conflict with his parents, and lately Hermione saw him exclusively at bedtime.

On top of it, Narcissa did not miss the chance to drop not-so-subtle comments on her daughter-in-law’s attire at the crowded party. Essentially, Hermione did not have time for countless dress fittings, so she went with a number bought several years ago. Granted, it wasn’t the latest fashion, but it still fit her.

Hermione remembered Daphne Bletchley’s giggle upon hearing one of Narcissa’s waspish remarks, and gritted her teeth. Needless to say, Witch Weekly scorned her outfit too. What else could she expect from Marietta Edgecombe, the gossip columnist at the popular magazine?

The next morning Hermione had a big fight with Draco. The night of the same day she took Rosie and moved out of the Manor. To her parents’ shock and surprise, she Flooed into their sitting room in the middle of the night with the sleepy five-year-old in her arms.

Draco popped out of the fireplace at the Grangers’ the next morning and tried to take Rosie to the Manor. A verbal duel ensued, and Hermione was late for work that day. He had not shown up again since then.

Hermione sighed. It’s been four days since the last time she saw Draco. Rosie had been asking about Daddy incessantly, and Hermione was tormented by her own indecision. Part of her wanted to make up with her husband. All externalities aside, she missed his manly presence next to her in bed, his light-hearted chat with Rosie at breakfast, his sharp comments on the Daily Prophet‘s lame witticisms, and much more. She saw so much of him in Rosie, and the thought of their little girl suffering through the break-up of her parents made Hermione want to cry.

On the other side, the prospect of returning to the Manor was too unbearable to think about. The nearly absent husband, who openly wished her to be a true Malfoy lady and bear him his heir, the domineering mother-in-law who efficiently squashed everyone around her, the neurotic father-in-law, who plotted to gain the favours of the top dogs at the Ministry and unabashedly regarded his daughter-in-law as an indispensable tool in his schemes.

A while ago Hermione brought up the idea of getting their own place to live, but her words fell on Draco’s deaf ears. He was perfectly comfortable at the Manor, and the last thing he wanted was the trouble of setting up a new residence. His argument was that each generation of the Malfoy family resided at the Manor and it was the only way to be. Even more, the Manor was basically a sacred ground for him thanks to the centuries’ worth of powerful magic infused into it and the indeterminate number of ancestral bones buried in the family graveyard.

The café door opened and Ginny sailed in, her warm dark brown shawl draped around her shoulders artfully.

“Having a case of mulligrubs?” she asked and deposited her shining new handbag on the small table.

“Oh, I’ve already told you…” Hermione stared into her almost empty cup. Ginny had such a perfect family with Harry and their young son James. No wonder, the Potters essentially were on the same page from the start. “Of course, it’s hard to understand after everything that Draco and I shared…”

“I am not trying to understand anyone or anything anymore,” Ginny started firmly, and vigorously spread butter on her toast. “I just accept things as a matter of fact.”

“Did Harry make you arrive at such a conclusion?” Hermione couldn’t resist a dose of bitter sarcasm.

“My own family, to be exact.”

“How come?” wondered Hermione.

“Ron and Megan are divorcing. Out of the blue.”

“Ron and Megan?” Hermione could not believe her ears. The unassuming Hufflepuff from their year at Hogwarts, Megan Weasley, nee Jones, was the perfect wife type. The ideal, Molly-Weasley-approved kind of a life partner for her son. She quietly put up with Ron’s bad moods, diligently cooked hearty meals for him and generally didn’t ask much of her husband. Which left Ron with ample free time to play Quidditch with his buddies. She was fairly good-looking and a little on the plump side, but Ron always liked curvier ladies.

“Mum is in shock. Apparently it has been going on for awhile but no one knew.” Ginny nibbled at her toast and took a sip of her latte. “After all, everyone loved Megan and was glad when Ron settled down and married her. I suspect he’d got bored with her. Megan isn’t exactly one with lots of spice.”

“That’s what Harry said about her. He didn’t date Megan for too long, as you know.” Hermione took the new cup of tea brought by the waiter. “Harry has way more fun with you, Gin.”

“It all is so murky. I don’t even know who filed for divorce.”

“Do you think Ron had an affair?”

“No idea, Hermione. My brother was so evasive about the whole thing.”

“I received a letter from Ron this week. Seems everyone knows I moved out of the Manor.” Hermione stirred the sugar in her cup. “He wants to get together. Didn’t say anything about his divorce.”

“Hold it, Hermione.” Ginny evidently did not like the news. “I doubt my brother is in his right mind now.”

They sat in a silence and sipped their coffee. Hermione was very much drawn to the idea of seeing Ron, and Ginny’s reaction unnerved her a little. Still, could it be good to take a break from her husband and have a fresh look at her old friend?

“You know what?” Ginny broke the silence. “I’ve heard from Padma and Parvati - I’m having a lunch with them at the Three Chopsticks. Want to come along?”

Hermione hesitated, then nodded. She had heard the rumours that something was going on in the twins’ marriages, and she doubted whether it would be a good idea to hear more stories about the sinking marital boats. On the other hand, her parents had taken Rosie to the Zoo, and it would be much worse to be on her own and brood incessantly.

Against all of Hermione’s expectations, Padma Zabini and Parvati Nott were in chirpy spirits. Over the sushi and rolls, they chatted about their kids’ home-schooling, a new magically enhanced car that Blaise bought recently, Theo’s plans to acquire a new residence in sunny Tuscany, and, finally, about the upcoming Spring Ball at the Ministry.

“We are in a bind with the Ball,” said Parvati airily and picked a roll from her tray.

“You see, we are still not sure how to appear in our position,” Padma added.

“Yeah, I’ve heard your situation is a bit complicated,” remarked Ginny and reached for her cup of green tea.

Hermione chewed on her sushi, not sure how to broach the subject that she was so curious about.

“Oh, Hermione, I’ve forgot you probably don’t know,” exclaimed Parvati.

“Don’t know what?” Hermione braced herself for another sad tale.

“Well, we all have been doing a bit of thinking lately,” Padma said tentatively. “I mean, Theo, Blaise and us both.”

Hermione swallowed her sushi and glanced at Ginny. Her friend had apparently resolved to adhere to her newfound principle of not trying to understand anything and was flipping through the sushi menu nonchalantly.

“So…” Hermione took a sip of her tea. “What did you all think up then?”

“We are divorcing our husbands,” Parvati proclaimed as if she was announcing her decision to redo her kitchen in flaming reds instead of soothing greens.

“We figured out it’d be better that way,” nodded Padma and took another roll from her plate.

“I - I hope everything is amicable between you…” muttered Hermione. To tell the truth, she never could understand why Padma suddenly got together with Blaise instead of Theo whom she had dated steadily since Hogwarts. Besides, the twins did not look especially sad about their situation. They never seemed to be too unhappy with their husbands either, but neither of them shared a whole lot about themselves with others.

“You always had more affinity with Theo, Padma,” Parvati remarked casually and put her chopsticks on her tray. “I really love the sushi here - they have the freshest fish in town.”

“I agree, you and Blaise had a better rapport since Hogwarts, Parvati,” commented Ginny. “Do you consider - ehm… remarrying?”

“Oh, we are still working it all out, Gin,” smiled Parvati. “We’ll keep you posted!”

Hermione looked at them both, not sure what to make out of it.

“Hermione, Ginny, do you think you might be around in mid-late August?” wondered Padma.

“I’ve got no plans so far,” said Hermione. Heck, she didn’t even know if she was going to be still married in August.

“We don’t have any, either,” affirmed Ginny.

Padma and Parvati Disapparated just outside the restaurant. Ginny walked Hermione to the nearest tube station.

“Are we having a divorce season?” Hermione questioned sardonically. “I could understand Ron and Megan, but the Notts and the Zabinis?”

“Padma, Parvati and their men didn‘t make their best judgments when they were twenty, that‘s all.” Ginny looked at her friend. “I thought they’d share the news with you sooner, but you were too prim for that.”

“I can’t understand how they could be so cheerful after that…” Hermione was truly befuddled now.

“If the arrangement works for them fine, why worry about it?”

“But Padma married Blaise because he knocked her up then, remember? Parvati and Theo have got a child too!”

“I guess we’d better leave them alone.” Ginny adjusted her shawl. “Are you going to get back together with Draco?”

“I can’t believe you’d expect me to return to that mouldy Manor! Draco has got such - such a silly fixation on it!”

“Well, you’re a Muggleborn,” Ginny said plainly.

“Does it make me less important than my husband’s Pureblood line?”

“No, it just that you don’t know what an ancestral estate could mean to Purebloods like the Malfoys.”

“Don’t tell me that again, Ginny. Your folks are Purebloods but I don’t see any of your brothers entrenching at The Burrow!”

“The Burrow isn’t the same. Besides, we are Weasleys and blood-traitors, as you know,” smirked Ginny.

*****

It was well past nine but Rosie was in no mood to go to bed. Hermione was on the brink of a full-blown temper tantrum. To her relief, her mother saw the expression on her daughter’s face, picked up Rosie and started gathering her granddaughter’s toys to take to bed.

“Look, Grandma Elaine is taking Annie, and Ninny, and Minnie to bed too, Rosie,“ cooed Hermione’s mother as Rosie giggled and held up her favourite dolls.

Hermione slipped away to the guest bedroom. When she came home, she discovered that Draco had called the Grangers’ on the phone but no one was in. Hermione attempted a Floo Call before commanding Rose to go to bed, and all she got was a house-elf informing her that the young Master wouldn’t be home until very late. Neither Narcissa, nor Lucius bothered to come to talk to her. It unsettled Hermione a lot. After much deliberation, Hermione answered Ron’s note the same night. He replied right away and proposed a lunch on Sunday, which she accepted. Now she couldn’t decide whether it was a good idea or not. The worst part of it all was that Hermione couldn’t figure out what was the right thing to do.

Hermione climbed into the bed and read a Margaret Atwood novel until nearly midnight. Then she got up and tiptoed to the room where Rosie was sleeping. The nightlight cast a dim glow on the girl’s soft curls, and Hermione wondered if Rosie would have the same platinum blond hair as her father when she grew up.

Suddenly, Hermione realised that someone else was in the room. She turned around abruptly and saw Draco leaning against the door. Not sure how to react to him Apparating in so unexpectedly, Hermione stood still while he stepped lightly past her to see Rosie better. She caught a whiff of firewhisky on his breath.

Hermione watched her husband crouch beside Rosie and gently brush away her blond locks that fell on her closed eyes. The little girl smiled dreamily in her sleep. Draco got up and looked at Hermione. She walked to the door, and he followed her into the hallway and then to the guest bedroom.

“Where have you been? I tried to call you through the Floo.” Hermione knew she did not sound very nice to him, but she was too tired to pretend otherwise.

“Same question for you, Hermione.” His lips stiffened. “Where were you all day?”

“My parents took Rosie to the Zoo, then to Aunt Perpetua‘s, and I got together with my girlfriends. Any crime in that?”

“I’m entitled to some time with my friends too.” He sat down in an armchair and stretched his long legs.

“Let’s not fight here in the middle of night, okay?” Hermione got in the bed. “Would you be so kind to allow me some sleep?”

“Right, let’s hit the sack.” In a few seconds he was next to her in bed. Hermione tensed up but said nothing. She wasn’t sure if she really agreed to his company. He apparently had been hanging out at his favourite club, The Nines, with his friends.

His hands slid under her nightgown and up her sides. It was clear that he wanted sex, and it was the main reason for his showing up at this time of night. Hermione didn’t respond but didn’t resist it either. To be honest, she missed some messing around with her husband too. At least, he didn’t seek his satisfaction with someone else.

Her nightshirt got hiked up to Hermione’s shoulders. Draco flipped her onto her back and his mouth roamed her breasts hungrily. Hermione let him enter her. He wasn’t bad to her, and her tension loosened up considerably. They went through the familiar motions, which comforted Hermione to a degree, and soon they rocked briefly in their climax. Then Draco kissed her on her lips lightly and in a second he was snoring next to her.

Hermione’s parents were mildly surprised to see Draco come out to the breakfast but Hermione also noticed the expression of relief on their faces. Rosie immediately climbed into her Daddy’s lap and attempted to take hold of his coffee cup but Grandma Elaine swiftly snatched it away.

“I guess we’ve had enough,” Draco stated flatly. “Let’s go back home after the breakfast.”

The Grangers’ eyes shot at their daughter. Hermione stiffened in her chair. It certainly was a bad idea to start yet another battle in front of Rosie, but she simply couldn’t let Draco boss her in such a way.

“I’m sorry but returning to the Manor is out of question for me. Nor will I let you take Rosie with you. You can come here to see her but I don’t want to lose my child.” Hermione took a deep breath. Her heart pounded madly and her hands were icy cold. “Besides, I have got plans to meet a friend for lunch today.”

“Who are you having lunch with?” His eyes were black with rage.

“I’m entitled to some time with my friends, just like you.”

“Oh, maybe you could come here for dinner, Draco?” Hermione’s mother attempted to disperse the looming thunderstorm. “Are you meeting Ginny, Hermione?”

Hermione did not answer. Her father hummed something and helped himself to a toast. Rosie dropped her spoon on the floor and Grandma Elaine promptly came to her aid. Hermione took a napkin to wipe her daughter’s mouth, smeared with yoghurt.

After the breakfast Draco sat on the rug in the sitting room and read a book to Rosie. Hermione hid in the kitchen and pretended to be busy cleaning the countertops. Her mother threw her arms up and joined Draco with Rosie in the sitting room, leaving Hermione in the company of her wand, sponge and washing detergent.

All alone, Hermione pondered her life glumly. Would it have turned out much better if Draco hadn’t brewed that lust potion, Heorte Lustbaere, in their sixth year? She would probably be married to Ron, and his family would treat her completely differently. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were such wonderful people. Of course, she understood that Ron wouldn’t make a perfect husband either. He said some hurtful things to her, but who wasn’t guilty of snapping at others at times? Ron would be much more certain to share her values including the house-elf rights. Hermione remembered their kiss in the Room of Requirement during the Battle of Hogwarts, and tears welled up in her eyes. Did she make some very bad decisions then?

“Hermione?” She heard Draco’s voice behind her back. “There’s a Floo Call upstairs. Ginny wants to talk to you.”

“Okay, thanks,” mumbled Hermione and headed towards the door, trying to hide her eyes from him.

“Wait!” He blocked her path. “I‘ve got to go now. You aren‘t coming with me?”

“No…” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Please, just let me get upstairs. Can‘t you really understand that it‘s a torture for me to live at the Manor?”

Draco hesitated, and Hermione attempted to get past him. He stepped into her path again. “I doubt my folks can change overnight. Could you just drop the whole house-elf issue, after all?”

“It isn’t about the house-elves only. You barely notice what’s going on around you! You’re so absorbed in yourself and your damned million-Galleon business! All you want is a proper Malfoy wife, and an heir to your damned Manor and your fortune! You don’t ever bother to figure out what your wife needs, what is important for her, nothing ever!”

She halted and gasped for air. Excellent. Now that she had spewed her pathetic tirade at him, it was his turn to get mad at her.

“So… I’m the bad one again?” Draco asked, his voice ominously quiet.

“Please, Draco, just let me past…” Hermione swallowed. “I don’t know really… We’ve had such great times… I missed you this week, but - when I think about returning to the same sort of life, I’m horrified. I know Rosie needs you too, but I can’t trust you either. My work is my refuge, can’t you understand it? Could you just leave me alone, please?”

Draco stepped aside, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes were fixed on Hermione, as she walked past.

“OK.“ She heard his drawl behind her. “Would you kindly meet me for dinner? I suggest we leave Rosie with your parents then.”

“Yes. Ok. All right. I’m fine with it.” Hermione replied without as much as turning her head. She wasn’t crying anymore. Thankfully, he didn’t get defensive this time… Then she heard the faint ‘pop’ of him Disapparating.

“Have you been fighting again?” Ginny’s head shouted from the fireplace the second Hermione entered the upstairs study. “You need to get back to your senses, Hermione!”

“No way I’m returning to the Manor!” bristled Hermione. The worst thing her girlfriend could do was to gang up with Draco and pester her about going back to him.

“It isn’t about the Manor thing!” Ginny shook her head fiercely in the coals. “It’s about your lunch meeting today.”

“I’m having lunch with Ron, so what?” Hermione crossed her arms on her chest.

“Please, don’t try to fool yourself, Hermione!” Ginny was pleading now. “Ron is already screwed up like hell. Did you have the fight with Draco over it just now?”

“No, he doesn’t know who I’m lunching with. It’s none of his business, really!” Hermione flopped on the rug in front of the fireplace. Why did everyone have to swoop on her right now?

“By Merlin, Hermione, if my brother tries to bed you, I hope you’d have a better judgment than that.”

“My judgment is good enough as it is. Besides, I doubt Ron plans to feed me a lust potion! If not for that cursed brew, I wouldn’t have what I’ve got now…” Hermione couldn’t contain herself and burst into tears again.

“Hermione, you need to take good care of yourself. I’m going to talk to Harry now, okay?”

“Don‘t drag Harry into our mess. Enough, Gin!” Hermione shouted.

Ginny’s head disappeared instantly. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece - it was almost time for her to go. Hermione rushed to the bathroom to put herself in order.

******

Hermione pushed the pub door open and saw the man with red hair at a table by the window. Their eyes met, and Ron smiled sheepishly.

“Heard you broke up with Draco and moved out of the Manor,” Ron said after Hermione finished telling him about her last visit with Andromeda Tonks and her grandson Teddy. “I reckon those Malfoys can be quite a bit of trouble.”

Hermione poked her fork in her salad. She didn’t particularly want to discuss her family matters.

“Ginny said you and Megan are not together anymore.”

“We’re practically divorced.” Ron took a big bite out of his hefty sandwich and chewed on it for awhile. “Only a bit more paperwork and it’s final.”

“How’s Sammy taking it?”

“Our kid’s all right - he’s only three years old after all. Megan has him.”

“But that must be hard on everyone, even on your son,” Hermione muttered and took a sip of her tea.

“Megan can’t complain - I left her the house. It isn’t that big but still something.” Ron swallowed and looked away. No matter how much nonchalance he feigned, Hermione still could see how unsettled he was.

“It - it was such a surprise for me when Ginny told me about you,” Hermione said, cautiously watching Ron’s expression.

“Well, it wasn’t working out. She’d be home all day, then I’d come and she’d nag me non-stop.“ He stretched in his chair and took a long sip of his butterbeer. “Our life was so bland, really.”

“I wouldn’t really expect my life to be all entertainment, Ron.” Hermione stirred her tea. “I think it’s normal for it to be boring at times. Most of life is work, anyway.”

“It was worse than that, Hermione,” Ron said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “No way I could have a normal conversation with Megan. All she could talk about was little Sammy, shopping, cooking and chores.”

“Because it’s what her life was about,” objected Hermione. She never had a high opinion on Megan’s intellectual abilities, but Ron’s tone irked her a little. “Who filed for the divorce - you or Megan?”

“You know what? I applied for the position Harry told me about,” Ron said quickly, ignoring Hermione’s question. “I’m changing my life now. Going in a completely new direction.”

“What job?” Hermione was a little startled at first, then remembered Harry mentioning something about Ron’s wanting to quit his work at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. “Oh, yes, you wanted to join the Auror Department, right?”

“They accepted my application!” Ron grinned. “Even better, I won’t have to do the full training course. I’ll skip right ahead to the third round. Of course, I’m holding on to my share in WWW - the business is such a money spinner now!”

“Where are you living now?”

“The Chalet building, just off Diagon Alley,” Ron said smugly. “The flat isn’t cheap, of course, but the location! Where are you now? I reckon you aren’t returning to the Manor.”

“I’m at my parents’ for now. I’m not going back to the Manor, of course.”

“Heck, you’d do much better on your own, Hermione.” Ron winked at her. “We could lunch all together now that the three of us work for the Ministry. Remember the good old times.”

“I am not sure those were all such good old times,” Hermione said a little sarcastically.

“Well, I admit I had my share of stupidity then.” He looked into her eyes steadily. “Sorry about all that bad stuff I said to you then.”

“Okay, I’ve got over it a long time ago.”

“Honestly, I never understood why you married Malfoy in the first place. I mean there was that lust potion and such, but it wasn’t supposed to bond you with him forever, right?”

“I’d rather not go into it now, Ron.” Hermione finished her salad and pushed the plate aside. “It’s very difficult for me to be near my in-laws.”

“What did you expect?” Ron shrugged and finished his butterbeer in a big gulp. “The only reason they let you in the Manor was because you were their sure-fire ticket out of Azkaban. I won’t be surprised if Draco held to the same views.”

“Ron, you know what?” Hermione now regretted starting this conversation. “You might be right about my in-laws, but I’m absolutely certain that Draco married me because he loved me!”

Silence fell between them. After finishing her tea, Hermione waved for the waiter to come and bring the bill. Ron demolished the last remainder of his big sandwich, and the same second the waiter placed the bill on their table.

“The lunch is on me, Hermione.” Ron snatched the bill before she could see it.

“Thanks,” muttered Hermione. She wasn’t certain what she expected from their meeting, but it left her with an aftertaste of slight bitterness.

When they stepped out of the doors, Ron suddenly halted in his tracks and so did she.

“You know, you look really good today.” His blue eyes met hers, and her heart skipped a beat. Ron placed his hand on her waist. “See you at the Ministry on Monday.” He gave her a gentle pat on her back and Disapparated.


Hermione walked up and down the street aimlessly. The meeting left her even more confused than before. It was obvious that Ron tried to put up some sort of a façade and not let out whatever inner troubles and struggles he was having. Hermione wandered into a side street, sat on a bench for a while, then got up and walked along the shop windows, staring at the displayed merchandise absentmindedly. She hoped to find a kindred soul in Ron to lean on, but he turned out to be more like a wobbly pole, loosely set in the ground. She sighed and Apparated home to relieve her parents from babysitting Rosie. Hermione was now bracing herself for the dinner with her husband.

******

Draco met her in the lobby of the expensive restaurant that they used to frequent. The hostess led them to their customary table in a cosy nook. A waiter brought tea for Hermione and goblin ale for Draco instantly.

“So… How was your lunch?” Draco opened his menu. His voice was tense. “How’s Ron?”

“Ron?” Hermione gulped her tea. ”Oh - I think he’s quite under the stress now. How did you know?”

“I’ve just been at the Potters’. They invited me over for the five o’clock tea.”

“I see.” Hermione stared at her menu but couldn’t comprehend the text in front of her. She felt like hexing her best girlfriend right now. After all, it was her own business, not Ginny‘s. Hermione glanced at Draco’s face - it was inscrutable.

“Ok, I’ll go with the steak, medium as usual,” he muttered and put the menu aside. Then he gave her a long look. “Did Ron whine about his divorce a lot?”

“He actually didn’t,” Hermione bristled a little. “On the contrary, he’s changing his life now. A new place to live, and a new job at the Ministry.”

“I heard about it. Harry isn’t too happy now that he told Ron about the vacancy in his department,” Draco smirked. “So he didn’t tell you much about the divorce, right? How it all started and why?”

“Not really.” Hermione hesitated a little. Her husband did not sound too confrontational at the moment, which was better than before. “Did you find it out?”

“Yes. It‘s rather ugly. Ginny talked to Megan at the Burrow when she dropped off something for her mother today morning.”

“What’s the story then?” Hermione studied Draco’s face.

“I think you’d better ask Ginny about it.” His voice sounded dejected. “If I tell you, you’d accuse me of badmouthing your old friend.”

“I’m sorry I was so harsh lately.” Hermione felt ashamed of herself. She decided to change the topic. “I know you want me and Rosie to return to the Manor. But I really need to get away from your folks now. I’d probably start looking for a flat near the Ministry tomorrow.”

“Hold it, Hermione.” His voice became firm, and it made her tense up again. “Could you stay with your parents for now? I’d rather like Rosie to be at their place. We’ll put up the proper wards there tonight.”

“But - but I can’t stay with them for long, Draco. They’ve got their life and everything,” Hermione muttered, astounded by her husband’s response.

“We won’t live there for long.” Draco took her hand. “I’ve got an idea, but I need some time to check it out for sure. Would your parents mind it?”

“You mean we?” Hermione asked incredulously. “Are you moving in with my folks too?”

“Not exactly, since I’d be gone most of the time. But I’d like to sleep in your bed. I wouldn‘t want Rosie to forget what her Daddy looks like either.”

Hermione couldn’t help but flash her smile at him. The same second she reminded herself not to get her hopes too high. She knew all too well how good Draco could be at negotiating the terms that suited him best. Still, it was an improvement.

“Okay, we could start at that,” she said wryly.

“Excellent. Let‘s put the painful subjects aside for now and enjoy the dinner.” Draco smiled smugly. “By the way, what do you think about this wine, darling?”

They spent the rest of the meal chatting about everything and nothing in particular at the same time. It was the sort of a witty banter that they had practiced so well over the years, and Hermione was grateful for the respite. The problems were still here but at least they had a start at it.

******

Hermione dug into her sandwich and turned a page of the book on her desk. “The Countryseat, Demesne and Manor: Symbolism of Continuity in Wizarding Culture”. She almost finished reading it now that she had opted to have lunch at her desk instead of going out with Harry and Ron. Harry didn’t mind it but Ron kept asking her to keep them company every day, which already began to annoy Hermione.

She closed her book and looked out the window. Her department was two levels underground but the windows were enchanted to show the street scenery. The March rain drummed on, and most pedestrians hid under their umbrellas as she stared at the crowds in the street from above. Tomorrow, Saturday, she and Draco were going to have a final look at the place that they both loved at first sight. Truth to be told, they didn’t look at many houses, just at a couple more after that one. Still, she insisted that Draco put down only the minimal deposit for it at first, instead of going ahead with the deal. He grumbled at the delay a little, but Hermione had that need to look at everything more than once and reassure herself that she was making the right choice. A few days later, Hermione visited the place without Draco. While the agent, a talkative stout witch, gave her another tour of the house, Hermione barely listened to her. Her eyes wandered around the empty rooms, lingered on the ornate mantelpieces and freshly painted window frames, swept over the gleaming floors, and in her mind she was seeing the life they were going to make in this house, so cosily nestled in a park of old trees. She parted with the agent in the entrance hall, walked outside, stood on the terrace for a few minutes and looked at the rolling lawn in front of her. The sense of relief washed over her because she had finally made up her mind. Now she was going to tell her husband about her decision tomorrow after they’d have the deal closed and all papers signed.

The door opened and Ron strode in. With a casual wave of her hand, Hermione offered him a seat. The two other witches who shared the room with her were still out at lunch. Ron plunked into the chair and fiddled with a blue glass paperweight on her desk.

“Still reading that book, Hermione?” he asked, apparently just for the sake of starting a conversation.

“I’m almost done with it.” She smiled at him warmly. Ron had been quite depressed over the past weeks, and Hermione felt sorry for him. It certainly wasn’t a great idea to get entangled with flamboyant Romilda Vane and have a tryst with her at his home. Megan walked in on them and filed for the divorce the next day. Hermione was not sure whether Ron continued to see Romilda after that but that was his personal business after all. If they still dated, Romilda certainly did not seem to make him much happier.

“You sure love to read,” Ron said with an exaggerated casualness. “All I can muster myself for is the sports pages in the Prophet. Harry said you and Draco are going to close the deal on your new house tomorrow.”

“Yes, we are finally going to have a place of our own.”

“No more nasty in-laws.” Ron smiled weakly. “I’m going to take Sammy to a park tomorrow, and then have a dinner with Romilda.”

“Oh, are you dating now?” Hermione said airily.

“Romilda is moving in with me this Sunday.” Ron cocked his head and put the paperweight back on the desk. “She’s excited to live in the heart of the city.”

“That’s great - you won’t be all alone.” Hermione tried to sound cheerful but she strongly doubted that it was a good development for Ron. Nevertheless, there was no use to tell her friend otherwise. He had to make his mistakes and learn from them. All Hermione could do was to wish him the best and take good care of her own life with her man.

******

The Saturday morning was bright and fresh. The sunlight filled the kitchen at the Granger residence. Two owls landed on the windowsill. Hermione let them in and took the letters. Both of them were wedding invitations. Hermione looked at them curiously and then handed the stiff cream-coloured cards to Draco, who chortled with amusement. The headings read:

“Theodore Richard Nott Jr.
and
Padma Zabini …”

“Blaise Raoul Zabini
and
Parvati Nott…”

“I can’t believe it - they are holding the weddings on the same day and at the same place!”

“Even more merriment,“ Draco said lightheartedly and passed the invitations on to Hermione’s mother, who studied them with interest.

“So, you’re finally closing the deal on that house in Windsor?” Hermione’s father put his newspaper down. “Did the inspections go all right?”

“It’s perfect for us,” Hermione assured. “Places like this are hard to find - a Muggle residence of this calibre that is also magic-friendly. I can’t believe you snatched it, Draco.”

“I was the first one Justin Finch-Fletchley told about it that night at The Nines.” Draco waved his wand and his cup refilled with coffee.

“Oh yes, when you Apparated here in the middle of the night.” Hermione restrained squirming Rosie in her seat and turned to her mother. “Justin inherited it from his great-aunt and put lots of money into it to accommodate it for himself as a wizard. Now he’s bought a new place in Ascot.”

“Funny, when he told me about his great-aunt’s mansion for sale, I didn’t even consider it.” Draco grinned and glanced at Hermione who chuckled. “Then I thought I ought to check it out. Got hold of Justin first thing on Monday morning and he took me there. I saw the place and all I could say was - wow! No way I was going to let it slip away, of course.”

“After Harry and Ginny gave you a good beating during the tea at their place on that Saturday. Especially Ginny!” said Hermione. Draco shot a look at her and huffed into his cup. She smiled at her husband and stroked his thigh under the table.

“Hermione, I really can’t understand why you hesitated so much about the purchase!” Her mother shrugged and turned to Rosie.

“I think I couldn’t believe at first that it was for real.” Hermione said sheepishly. “I - I just wanted to make sure everything was right.”

The papers were signed and the agent checked them diligently. Draco handed Justin the Gringotts cashier’s check in exchange for the polished set of keys. They stepped out of the dark office in the Diagon Alley, and Hermione squinted from the bright spring sun.

“All right, I’m off to my game of polo.” Justin waved them good-bye and Disapparated.

“Here are the keys, put then on your favourite necklace for everyone to see,” Draco teased Hermione. “You’re now the queen of your castle.”

“How about stopping by our mansion before going to my parents‘?” She smiled. “I’d like to tell you something in our new home.”

The sunshine flooded the empty drawing room through the French doors. Justin, per his agreement with Hermione, had moved most of the furnishings to his new residence in Ascot. She did not mind it because she wanted to refurbish the whole place anyway.

She threw her arms around Draco’s neck who was scrutinising a small chip on the edge of the marble mantelpiece.

“You know what…” Hermione took a deep breath. “Do you want to start trying for a son? I picked up the potion at the apothecary yesterday to ensure we’ll have a boy. An heir for my king.”

His eyes shot at her face. “So… You’re going to begin taking it now? And - I mean - your work and everything?”

“I’ll handle my work just fine.” She smiled at him. Now she had it out, and it made her feel so good. “I took the potion this morning.”

Draco gazed into her eyes for a few seconds. Suddenly, he beamed at Hermione, hoisted her in his arms and spun around.

Hermione burst with laughter, leaned into his face and their lips joined in a kiss.

“Let’s make our boy here.” He set her on the floor and pulled out his wand. A flick of it and a mattress materialised in the middle of the room, the sunlight pouring on it from the window.

“You’re crazy, Draco,” Hermione laughed again. “We aren’t at Hogwarts!”

“Right, it’s lots better than a dusty classroom on the third floor.” A couple more swishes of his wand, and their clothes landed in a heap on the floor. “Get on it, my queen, and I’ll mess you up good and proper!“

Hermione lay down on her stomach, her eyes closed and her back bathed in the warmth of the sun. His lips trailed kisses along her spine, his teeth grazing her skin, which made her back tingle slightly.

Then his mouth was on her buttocks, his tongue drawing moist circles on her skin. Hermione swayed her hips, and his teeth nipped at her soft roundness, alerting her senses and setting off a small surge of arousal between her legs. His lips roamed her backside, and light shivers rippled through her insides. Then he drew away, and her heart sank a little with anticipation. Suddenly, his palm smacked her butt, and she gave a short gasp from the sharp sensation that sent her core weeping. Another slap of his firm hand, now much lower between her thighs, and she thrust her bum at him, her pussy tingling and soaking wet.

“You’re glowing in this sunshine,” Draco whispered. His warm palm cupped her buttock gently, and she pressed against it. How she loved the feel of his hands on her…

Hermione opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder. He was kneeling on the mattress by her side, his member ready and erect, and she admired the sight of him, her man. She reached back with her hand and trailed her fingers along his length, then circled his sensitive tip with her fingernail.

“Merlin, you’re such a minx…“ he groaned and released her bum.

“More is coming, Draco boy…” Hermione whispered seductively. At the thought of what she was going to do to him, another hot wave rippled through her.

Hermione sat up and he straightened up on his knees, giving her full access to him. She lowered her head and her tongue danced around his tip, then travelled down his shaft, her teeth grazing his taut skin tenderly. Hermione slid her palms up and down his thighs, revelling in the masculine feel of his flesh. .She glanced up and saw his darkened eyes cast down on her and his chest heaving. Hermione savoured the effect her caresses had on her wizard, and now was going for more. She swirled her tongue around his hardness, and the same second his fingers weaved into her hair. One more swing of her shameless tongue, and his cock twitched, his hand gripping her scalp harder, and her own pussy beginning to throb. She rose a little, brushing her breasts against his cock, and she knew he was watching every her move. Her lips danced up his lower abdomen, his hard member set snugly in the softness of her bosom. She felt his hips and thighs straining against her torso, and ran her hands up and down his strong legs. His eyes were now heavy-lidded, and his lips emitted small growls. His hands held her shoulders firmly, rubbing and squeezing them.

“I… want… more of you…“ Draco’s arms pulled her up all the way. Hermione followed readily by getting on her knees. Her thighs cradled his cock, and her cunt already begged for a closer contact but she wanted him to ravish her more, and he obliged without a word. His mouth worshipped her breasts, and she pushed them up with her hands for him to caress. His hand held her backside, and the other slid into her already hot pussy, her juices trickling down his fingers and the insides of her thighs.

“My Lord… more, Draco…more…” Hermione breathed heavily with every surge of pleasure that his fingertips, so well-practiced in nipping, twisting and rubbing her most sensitive parts, inflicted on her.

They tumbled down on the mattress, and Hermione eagerly opened her legs for him, begging for her man to take all of her and fill her with his seed. He moved in between her thighs. His ravenous gaze devoured her nakedness, his fingers spread her tender folds, and she delighted in it. Her expert hands travelled to his chest and twisted his sensitive nipples. Draco growled and thrust into her, making her body arch. Their lips met, and she grasped his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his buttocks. They were dissolving in each other, his cock hitting her inner centre and the achingly sweet sensations from it making her writhe and moan. As their frenzy grew, her feverish pussy was holding on to him and pleading for a release at the same time, her lips were uttering small sounds, and his mouth was breathing rumbling, lustful words into her ears.

Suddenly, Draco was pounding her with all his force. Her man whom she adored so much, no matter what, was consuming her, claiming her and planting his seed in her. Her cunt clamped on him, craving for his presence in her innermost parts, unwilling to ever let him go. Then, as her muscles throbbed wildly around him, he hit her savagely, making them spiral together down into a blinding whirlpool with all the abandon, and at the bottom of it they slumped in each other’s embrace.

Draco snuggled against her side, his arm draped over her hips. Hermione drew circles dreamily on his shoulder with her forefinger. She knew they ought to be on their way to relieve her parents from babysitting, but both of them yearned to hold on to this blessed moment of their love and unity.

“This is such a perfect home, and it isn‘t really big,” mused Hermione, as she trailed her finger along his brow. “The size is ideal for us - I never wanted a huge mansion with lots of rooms to get lost in.”

“It can be magically expanded - Justin explained to me how,“ Draco responded lazily. He breathed into her hair, and she savoured the scent of his body. “A new room each time a baby comes along.”

They smiled at each other and Draco pulled Hermione closer to him.

******

It was a hot and humid afternoon in August, and Hermione was already eager to go home for a rest. Professor Trelawney, generously loaded with goblin brandy and firewhisky, gave her a cordial, albeit tipsy, hug and departed to chat with Padma and Parvati, who were circulating among the wedding guests. The twins glowed in their shimmering silk gowns - Padma in a lavender-coloured dress, and Parvati in a pale green one. Delicate white lotus flowers adorned the stylish hairdos of the newly married brides, and their smiles royally beamed at everyone. Blaise, in formal grey dress robes, towered among a group of older wizards, and Theo, his white carnation already drooping slightly on his lapel, weaved his way among the guests, exchanging pleasantries here and there.

“Funny, Trelawney loves you so much now that she’s smashed,” said Ginny, who was sitting next to her at the round table under the white canvas marquee. Like Hermione, she was suffering from the same malady. Her pregnancy made her crave pickles and now Ginny had several of them on her plate.

Draco and Harry were mingling with the crowd on the lawn, and the witches’ only company at the table were Adrian Pucey and Oliver Wood, two renowned pro Quidditch players. Although they played on different teams, they had lived together for several years, and everyone regarded them as a practically married couple.

“Don’t eat so many pickles - your baby will turn into a pickle,” Adrian teased Ginny.

“Nothing happened to James, and I ate pounds of them every day!” Ginny reached for her glass of lemonade. “Harry and I are still arguing over his choice of the name for our boy.”

“Well, Albus Severus doesn’t sound too bad.” Hermione cast another cooling charm on Ginny and herself. “Mine is much worse off.”

“And what is your kid’s name going to be?” asked Oliver.

“Scorpius Hyperion,” answered Hermione. ”Definitely not my top choice. My in-laws believe it’s terribly important to adhere to a very limited list of Malfoy Heir names, approved by Merlin-knows-whom.”

“What is Draco thinking after all?” snorted Ginny and took another sip of her lemonade.

“What would he think if his own name is Draco?” Hermione smirked. “Of course, he doesn’t mind it at all. I resolved not to argue for the sake of family peace.”

Ron strolled up to their table. Romilda in a very tight bright blue dress, her lips vivid red, tottered in her high heels after him. He instantly got engaged in a Quidditch talk with Pucey and Wood. Romilda hovered near Hermione and Ginny. They exchanged a few phrases about the weather, and Romilda soon strutted away.

“My family is reeling from her looks,” whispered Ginny after Ron waved everyone at the table and left the company too. “Her boobs are all falling out of her dress. Megan was invited too, but she didn’t come, of course. She knew Ron would drag Romilda with him. Can’t my brother have any decency, after all?”

“Well, she’s the complete opposite of Megan, isn’t she?” commented Oliver. “Ron has got a taste for extreme things, apparently.”

“We are considering something extreme too,” Adrian said humorously.

“And what’s that?” Draco sat down next to Hermione.

“We are going to become parents,” said Adrian.

“Which of you is in the family way now?” smirked Draco and picked a glass of brandy from the tray that a waiter brought to the table.

“Not us - they kindly agreed to help.” Oliver nodded to Lisa Turpin and Orla Quirke who came up to the table, followed by Harry.

“Ahem…” muttered Draco and looked at the lesbian couple. “Interesting.”

“It’s that simple. A magical insemination,” Lisa flashed her smile at the company.

“I can’t believe what a year we are having,” Hermione chuckled. “The Notts and Zabinis swap their spouses, Adrian and Oliver are expecting, and Ron goes from a Mrs. Proper to a Miss Slut.”

“And the best thing is that Granger’s still married to Malfoy,” grinned Adrian.

“Ah, that Slytherin bet you told me about,” smirked Oliver.

“What bet?” asked Draco, almost menacingly. Hermione did her best not to laugh.

“Well, Nott, Zabini, Flint, Urguhart and I bet a hundred Galleons over drinks at the Hog’s Head, that you wouldn’t last together for six years.” Adrian picked a canapé from the silver tray in the centre of the table. “We lost as of this summer, of course.”

“Who won the hundred Galleons?”

“Professor Trelawney.”

*****************************************************************

Author's Note:

The mention of a lust potion in this story refers to my multi-chapter story, Lust, War and... Love?.

I put together pictures of Draco and Hermione's new residence here: http://linkar123.livejournal.com/554.html