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Dirty Habit
charleebleu
Dirty Habit

She hates his red hair, but when she wakes up, that's all she sees, and she's disgusted. He's not suppose to be here, he doesn't belong here. She gets up, careful not wake him, and heads straight to the bathroom. She studies herself in the mirror for a long time, she's not sure why, everything is as it ought to be. It always is in the mornings after.

When she gets into the shower, she scrubs herself raw, she scrubs herself clean. She takes extra time drying off, moisturizing , brushing her hair, primping, avoiding him. She hopes by time she's done he'll be gone. She wraps herself in a fluffy robe and heads back, but luck was never her friend. He's still there, lazily doing up his shirt buttons.

"How many times have got to tell you, don't sleep here," she snaps.

"I'm leaving now, so drop it," he says dismissively.

And she glares at him as he walks out the door, his fly still undone. She hates herself and she hates him.


-oOo-

She's sitting at the desk in her study two weeks later, when his hideous, clumsy owl comes fumbling in. Even his owl is stupid.

"I'm coming over in about an hour."

He doesn't sign it of course, he never does, but for the first time, it bothers her. She grabs a piece of scrap parchment lying on the desk and quills her reply, just as short.

"No, I can't. I'm out of juice, anyway."

Half an hour later, she's sitting in the gardens when his owl crashes into her tea. For the love of all that is pure.

"What? How could you let that happen. You're lucky I have spare. Be there in 20."

She doesn't reply. Fine, let him come.

-oOo-

She's lying on the bed, waiting. He's late, of course, he always is. Bloody, good-for-nothing wanker. How dare he keep me waiting. Nearly an hour has passes before she hears him lumbering up the stairs - graceless oaf - and another ten seconds before he bursts into her chambers. She's annoyed now more than ever with his brutish ways.Was he raised by centaurs?

"Why are you still dressed?" She scowls. Not an ounce of decorum.

"I need to talk to you," she says flatly.

"If I wanted to talk, I wouldn't come to you." and she clenches her fists into the bed sheets. The nerve of him!

"Well, it won't be much of a conversation. I'm done." and he looks confused. Dense arse.

"Done with..?"

"This," she gestures between them, "I'm tired this, of you, of everything. I'm done."

"What?" he's alarmed now, he sounds a little panicked. Good. "You can't be serious, I need this. You need this. We need this."

"No." she says firmly, "This is sick, twisted and just plain wrong. We have to stop."

"No," he refutes weakly.

"Well, I'm stopping. I don't care what you do, but I'm done. You'll have to find someone else to be sick and twisted with." He's silent for a long time before replying.

"Fine," and he says is so quietly that if she wasn't listening she would have missed it, "just this one last time then."

And for the first time, since he came in, she looks at him. She looks at how the clothes he's wearing hangs off him and she swears she can smell the poverty on him, she frowns. She looks at the messy state of his blond hair, she scowls. Lastly, she looks at his eyes, his grey eyes, his lovely grey eyes and sighs. He smiles.

"Hand it over," she commands - One last time - and he nearly trips running over. She snatches it from his grasp and heads to the bathroom without a second glance.

-oOo-

She studies herself in the mirror for a long time, she's not sure why, everything is as it ought to be, it always is the nights before. She gives herself a last once-over before twisting the stopper off and closing her eyes. She swallows the contents in one go and grimaces at the taste, ugh. She waits two minutes for the potion to take effect, she doesn't look in the mirror before exiting. He's already fully undressed when she returns and she fights the urge to gag. Good, the faster the better.

From the moment he touches her skin, she closes her eyes thinks of nothing but him. She thinks of his gentle caress, of his probing fingers, of his tongue, of his the open mouth kisses trailing down her neck, across her collar bones, through the valley of her breasts, and it makes her wet. When he's inside her, she shivers, moans and writhes in all the right ways because it's his length she feels. And as she approaches her climax, her eyes are still closed and her thoughts are still on him. She never opens her eyes before she reaches completion and keeps them closed in a desperate attempt to prolong the fantasy, while he seeks his end.

She's brought down from her orgasmic high when he collapses atop her, fully sated. She runs her hands through his perfectly soft, silky hair and sighs happily. It takes a few minutes for him to stir and he raises himself up to rest on his elbows. When the very last strips of paradise slip away, she opens her eyes to find his gaze boring into hers. She stares back, back into the grey eyes that aren't his and runs her hands through the blond hair that isn't his. With a disappointed sigh, she removes herself from the cage of his body, gathers the sheets around her body and goes to sleep. She dreams about him.

-oOo-

She hates his red hair, but when she wakes up, that's all she sees, and she's disgusted. He's not suppose to be here, he doesn't belong here. She glares at his eyelids till they flutter open and when they do, she glares at his blue eyes.

"Get. Up. Now."

She throws the covers off them both, jumps out of bed and goes about collecting his clothes. When she gathers them all, she looks back at the bed to see him staring at her incredulously and it makes her even more furious.

"GET OUT!" she screams and when he scrambles to his feet, she shoves his belongings into his chest, "and don't comeback. This is the last time, Weasley. Never again."

"Whatever, Parkinson," he mumbles as he hastily pulls his clothes on.

And she glares at him as he walks out the door, his fly still undone. She hates herself and she hates him.

Still nude, she stomps into her study and wrenches open the bottom draw of her desk. She pulls out the large, leather bound book and flips to the marked page. She stares at the newspaper clipping pasted to the page, it's a picture of a newlywed couple. The bride looks radiant in her white dress, she's beaming and so bloody happy and you can't even tell how filthy she is. The groom is dressed in perfectly tailored black, dress robes, grinning and his blond hair falls into his face as he gazes down lovingly at his wife, it makes her sick. On the other side, the list of ingredients and instructions on brewing that vile, disgusting potion. She tears the clipping and the offending page from the book, shreds them and sets fire to the pieces. She slums down into the leather chair and watches it burn.


-oOo-

She finds herself in her bathroom an hour later and when she steps into the shower, she scrubs herself of shame, of pain, of filth. She scrubs herself raw, she scrubs herself clean.

Later, when she studies herself in the mirror, she smiles at what she sees. Straight brown hair - not bushy, deep blue eyes - not brown, fair skin - not pale, everything is as it ought to be. Never again, she vows.

Polyjuice had always made her stomach turn, anyway.


You have to Ask
charleebleu

You have to Ask


First he had to get a last minute emergency annulment for a business contract between Malfoy Co. and one of his French suppliers because of the money laundering scandal that broke the previous morning, needless to say, his team of lawyers were pissed and demanded he payed them double. 800 galleons an hour, really? Then, his father chose to show up in the middle of the whole fiasco to row with him about finding a wife. Lucius always had impeccable timing. Then he found out how incompetent his temporary replacement secretary was when she scheduled him for three very important meetings at same damn time. On top of it all, Hermione still wasn't speaking to him and - well, today had been a terribly rotten day. And now, after finally escaping to his home at 12:45AM, he just wanted to sleep. That's all he wanted, his nice, soft bed and good seven hours of sleep.

He stripped off his clothes lazily, leaving them laying haphazardly on the bedroom floor as he stumbled blindly through the bathroom door and into the shower. After scrubbing away the dirt, grime and stress of the day with what little energy he could muster, he rested against the shower wall and let the hot water wash him clean. It took him another twenty minutes to gather enough motivation to leave the shower, dry off and pull on a pair of pyjama bottoms and took the last of his energy reserve to land himself in bed.

He was just about settled in bed, on the brink of falling into blissful slumber, enjoying the feel of being all wrapped up in fluffy blankets and the warm body besi - wait, warm body? That's not right, there wasn't suppose to be another warm body, he was alone.

The thought of some random person sleeping in his bed shook him out of his sleep-depraved haze. He sat up quickly, wand-ready and threw the blankets back. The intruder moaned in sleepy protest against the loss of warmth. He let out a relieved breathe when he saw her unruly curls spread out over his pillow.

"Granger?"

"Mmm?"

"Granger, wake up." he shook her gently.

"Draco?"

"Yes, Draco, who else would it be?"

"You're here." she mumbled.

"Yes, I am here, where I should be. You, however - " he started, but reconsidered, "do you know you're in my bed?"

"Of course, I know." she said, finally opening her eyes.

"Uh, why?"

"Can I not sleep in my boyfriend's bed?" Now, he was definitely confused.

"Boyf-ugh" he was not in the mood to think. He dropped his face into his hands before looking back to her tiredly, "I distinctly remember you saying I was not your boyfriend, 'Draco Malfoy, you are not my boyfriend, stop telling people that.' were your exact words and you've refused to speak to me since. And now almost three weeks later, you're in my bed? Granger, forgive me, but I am thoroughly confused."

She sighed, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up, but avoided his gaze.

"Yeah, about that" she looked up and cleared her throat quietly, "I've reconsidered and I've decided that we're in a relationship."

"You have decided that we're in relationship?" he repeated dumbly.

"Uh, yes?"

"You've decided?" he smirked.

"Yes, that's what I said, Malfoy." now she was getting annoyed with his repetitiveness. He was amused.

"Granger, " he said smiling now, "you can't just decide to be in a relationship with someone. You have to ask."

"Wha - no, I don't." he cocked his head to the side and raised one questioning brow.

"Well, if you're not happy with the decision all you have to do is say so." she was upset and embarrassed now. As she made to leave off his bed, Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her back on and into his arms.

"I didn't say that."

"Yes, well, your attitude says otherwise."

"Forgive me, I've a horrible day."

She relaxed in his embrace and her voice softened "Oh, I heard." he sighed and buried his face in her hair.

"Well?" he asked expectantly.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to ask me?" she could feeling him smiling.

"No."

"Granger, you have to ask me."

"No."

"Please?" he whined into her neck. She was silent for a few seconds.

"Ugh, you're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope."

"Fine," she inhaled deeply, "willyoubemyboyfrienddraco?"

"What was what, love? I didn't hear you." he laughed lightly, kissing her neck.

"Draco," she complained, "don't make me say it again."

"Again? You hardly said it the first time." and she whimpered and turned to bury her face into his bare chest.

"Will. You. Be. My. Boyfriend?" she ground out, she couldn't help the desperation that slipped in on the last word.

"Well, how can I refuse, you asked so nicely." he chuckled.

"This isn't funny, Draco. I'm serious."

"I know, I know." he pulled her hair from her face, pressed his lips to hers firmly and breathed,

"Yes."


Papers
charleebleu

Papers


Just as their table was magically cleared after they finished dessert, he slid a large envelope, bound with a big red bow, across to her. After examining the ornate design on the envelope, she looked to him for an explanation, but all the got was an encouraging smile. She stared a little while longer.

"Go on, open it." he urged gently.

She hesitated, hoping it would make a last second decision to reveal its contents, before she gently pulled the ribbon off and opened it.

Divorce papers. Fully drawn up, complete and signed divorce papers. She smiled. Hermione had never, in her life, thought she would be happy to see divorce papers. She looked up at him all glassy-eyed as the tears began to flow freely down her cheeks.

"So, it's done then? Everything is final?" she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it.

Still smiling, he scooted across to her side of the booth, reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Yes, it's done." he said with lips still pressed to her skin.

He moved to cup her cheeks, wiped her tears and gazed lovingly into her eyes before he brought his lips to hers.

"Happy birthday, Granger." he whispered between kisses.

This was it. What she has been waiting on for the past three years. And finally, it happened.

Now, Draco would be hers and only hers.


Halfblood or Nothing
charleebleu

Halfblood or Nothing

They were sitting at an outside table at muggle café on a sunny Wednesday afternoon. Hermione hadn't said a thing the whole time they were there and Draco was getting concerned. He knew she had something to say because she was picking at her food and kept sneaking glances at him. He was really getting fed up with waiting for her to say whatever it was that was so clearly weighing her down.

"Okay, Granger. What is it?" he demanded, "Go on spit it ou-"

"I'm pregnant." He dropped his fork.

"Pregnant with what, exactly?" he foolishly questioned.

"What do you mean with what, you idiot?"

"Pr-pregnant? Like, baby pregnant?"

"Yes, pregnant like 'baby pregnant'! How many types of pregnant do you think there are for a woman to be?" she hissed.

"Is it m-?"

"Draco Malfoy if you finish that question it will be the last thing you ever do!"

Draco went quiet and she could see he was having internal conversation with himself. Blimey. Pregnant, she's pregnant...for ME! My baby. I'm the father. Merlin, I'm going to be a father. I have to tell Blaise and the boys! Blaise. A wicked grin spread across his face and Hermione was slightly relieved. Blaise. I'm having a baby before him, my son will be older than his. Ha, take that, Zabini. That's right, Malfoys always win where it counts, you may have gotten married first, but I beat you to making a baby. It's going kill him. His children will have my son's lackeys for the rest of their lives!

Kill him? Kill him. Did he just say what I think he did? Hermione's hand went to her still flat - as - it - ever - will- be stomach. No, he couldn't. He wouldn't. He wouldn't fucking dare! He didn't want children now, but he wouldn't ever suggest that, right?

"Granger, we have to-" Draco started, but when he looked up, she was livid. Perhaps I stayed quiet for too long."What?"

"NO! Don't you dare! I won't do it, Draco! I won't!" she nearly yelled.

She drew attention to their table as she got up and threw down her napkin. Draco stood as well when she started down the street. He was about to follow when the waitress cornered him and demanded he pay before chasing her, so he threw down a some money - a few pounds more than needed, he was sure - before he went after her.

It didn't take long for him to find her, she was sitting at a bus stop seat around the bend at the end of the block. He approached her slowly and when she didn't look up or scream at him to leave he sat down.

"Calm down, Hermione. What's wro-" he attempted.

"How could you ask me to do something like that? I mean, I know you didn't want children right now, but I'm not going to kill it!" she was crying and he was confused. Kill it? What the hell. Why the hell would she say something like that or think it for that matter? Where did she get that idea?


"Granger, what the hell are you on about? No one said anything about killing anyone." he responded.

"Y-yes, you did. You just said something about killing something!" she said. Now she was confused, she heard him. He can't sit there and deny it.

"What? No, I - Oh, Merlin, no! That's not what I meant!" he placated and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"It's not?" she whispered. She was stiff in his embrace, but that didn't deter him.

"Shh, calm down, love. I was talking about Blaise. Blaise is going to want to kill me when he finds out I'm having child before him. He's been boasting that he's going to be the first of our lot to be a father since he was the first to fall in love and get married - happily."

"So, you're not going to ask me to k-kill our baby?"

"Fuck, no. Hell - fucking - no. No harm will come to you or our son."

His arms tighten around her and her shoulders sagged as the tension drained from her body. She turned fully into his embrace, buried her face in his chest and threw her arms around his waist. It took her another four minutes of calming breaths and hiccuping to speak.

"Good. Excellent. I'm three wee-wait. Did you say son? How do you know it'll be a boy?" she asked into his chest. "That's pretty presumptuous of you, don't you think, Malfoy?" and he just chuckled.

"Oh, Granger. My sweet, sweet, lovely, naïve Granger." he said into her hair. She huffed and tried to pull away, but he held her in place and all she could do was look up at him.

"It could very well be a girl, Malfoy. That's perfectly possible," she pointed out. That earned her another chuckle from Draco, this time louder.

"Of course, dear."

They sat on the bus stop bench for the rest of her lunch break. He rubbed small circles into her lower back and she glared daggers into his chest, but he didn't care because he's going to be a father.

-oOo-

"Granger, what hell is taking you so long? We're going to be late!" he called from the foyer before walking to the drawing room floo.

"I. am. pregnant, Draco!" She answered as she descends the stairs - far too slowly in Draco's opinion.

"I know, you're pregnant, but not pregnant enough to be moving and inch a minute"

She glared at him. She didn't know why she agreed to go to this thing, why she agreed to put her pregnant self in a room full of Slytherins just so Draco could gloat and boast about being a soon-to-be father. Ugh. Men and their ego.

She got her answer as she approached the floo and she found a slightly irritated, impatient - but undeniably happy - Draco Malfoy. Right, that's why I put myself through this. It not only makes him happy, but happy enough to express it.

"I don't see why we can't just appa-"

"No. You heard the healer, no apparating! Weren't you listening to a word she said? It upsets the baby, why would you want to upset my son, Granger? " he admonished.

"Yes, I was listening! She said I was okay to apparate up to the fourth month! Plus, it doesn't 'upset' with the baby, it's my body that may get a bit worked up. And stop saying 'son', we don't know yet!"

"Exactly. Your body. The body - which belongs to you - that's carrying our son. You're in three and a half, too close for my liking. We floo."

He was so stubborn and infuriating. She wasn't allowed to carry her briefcase, hell, he wouldn't allow her to do so much as make her own tea because"You could accidently burn yourself, slip, fall and hurt yourself and our son" Bloody, ridiculous.

"Three weeks was cutting it too close for your liking" she grumbled as they stepped into the floo.

"What was that, Granger?"

"Nothing," she replied, which was followed by his satisfied "hm". He kissed her on the cheek before calling out their destination.

"Nott Manor!"

-oOo-

That meddlesome, invasive, sly bastard! I can't believe he did that! He had no right! No bloody right! Hermione barreled through the floo, into foyer and ran - as fast as seven-month pregnant woman could - up the grand staircase screaming like a banshee.

"DRACO MALFOY!" she kicked open the first door.

"DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY, YOU COME HERE THIS INSTANT!" I am going to murder him. Skin him alive and immerse him in boiling hot salt water and make him -

"Ohh, new Mistress Malfoy, no! No yelling in the corridors! No kicking doors! Please!"

A small house-elf, Tippy, appeared in front of Hermione, interrupting her rampage. She was so angry she didn't even register what the elf called her, all she was concerned about was finding Draco - sodding - Malfoy. She took a calming breath before speaking, Tippy didn't deserve to bare the brunt of her wrath, she had done nothing wrong, it's her Master who was in trouble.

"Would tea please you, Mistress?" the elf questioned.

"I'm sorry about that, Tippy, I'm - I'm having a rough morning," when Tippy nodded in understanding, she continued, "Would you mind telling me where I might find Draco"

The elf, in turn, eyed Hermione carefully, trying to decipher, no doubt after that display, whether or not she meant to harm her Master. Hermione sighed.

"I-I just want to talk to him, get some things straightened out - about the baby," she supplied. Well, I didn't lie, per se. Technically, it is about the baby. That didn't stop her from feeling bad for misleading the elf, especially when she perked up at mention of the baby.

"Oh, yes! Of course, anything for the new Young Master Malfoy! Anything at all! This way, Mistress, this way!"

The house elf all but ran through the corridors. Tippy's enthusiasm caused some of her anger to ebb as she was lead to Draco. Was he telling everyone they were having a boy? A part of her couldn't wait to have her baby and have it turn out to be a girl, just to spite him. Then the other - bigger - part of her found his desire to be a good father to a son so endearing she would gladly give him all the sons in the world. She rubbed her swollen tummy. Hopefully he won't be too disappointed if you're a girl. She knew he would still love the child even if it was a girl, but she couldn't help but be a little worried. After one more flight of stairs, two right turns, a left and straight to the end of the hall, they arrived at a large, dark brown - nearly black - oak door.

"In here, Mistress," she put a finger to her lips, "but you must be quiet. Master requires it."

"Thank you ever so much, Tippy. I'll make sure to tell Draco how helpful you've been," andthe elf blushed and lowered her head. "Too kind, too kind! Tippy only does what she is meant to do." Hermione smiled at her humility, but decided to let up on the compliments, it clearly made the elf flustered, even if it was a good type of flustered.

"I think we'll have that tea, in say ten minutes?"

"Yes, of course, Mistress," and she bowed low, still blushing.

Tippy looked up at Hermione before shifting her gaze to her expanded belly and for a moment Hermione thought she might reach out an touch it. She didn't, she just bowed, again, and murmured something that sounded a lot like, "Soon, soon. The baby is soon.", before disappearing. Blimey, I hope not. I haven't even yelled at Draco yet. Draco. That's right, that's why she was there, to yell at him. Now what was I upset about - oh, yes - he's meddlesome and needs to mind his own business! Hermione stayed a few more moments gathering all her points and arguments before she pressed her ear to the door. Nothing. Not a thing. He probably has a Silencing Charm up. That won't help you now, Malfoy.

Gathering her courage and bravado, Hermione threw the door open, she didn't even knock - and why should she? She was ready, ready to start on him as soon as she laid eyes on his big, fat, infuriating head that was - was resting on his folded arms on his desk. She approached to desk quietly and sighed when she reached his side. Why does he have to be so beautiful and peaceful when he sleeps? I'm upset with you, you arsehole! You should be awake so I can yell at you, you know that. She didn't want to - couldn't - wake him. Not when he was so soundly asleep, not when he looked so peaceful. She remembered when it wasn't like this, when neither of them could just fall asleep, not without having their dreams plagued with nightmares. So, she let him sleep. For now, then I'll yell at you.

She reached over to pick up the sheets of parchment scattered across the desk. As she was organising them into neat piles, one particular piece of parchment caught her eye. Boy Names. Leave it to Draco to come up with names other than the ones they did together.

Boy Names

1. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy

2. Scorpius Draco Malfoy...Side note: I like this one best.

3. Scorpius Abraxas Malfoy

4. Orion Draco Malfoy

5. Orion Lucius Malfoy

Draco had mentioned more than half of these when they were discussing baby names. She had wanted to keep the names as...normal as possible. After what Ginny had allowed Harry - bless his soul - to name their children, she was a bit turned off from being 'creative' with the naming. Was it so wrong to want to name her child something that he wouldn't be ashamed to say out loud? Not that there was anything to be ashamed about with the names Harry had chosen, they were very good names that belonged to very good people, it was the combinations that got her.

6. Orion Abraxas Malfoy

7. Caelum Draco Malfoy

8. Caelum Lucius Malfoy

9. Caelum Hyperion Malfoy

10. Draco Lucius Malfoy II...Side note: No, she'll never go for this one.

Well, it's a good thing he crossed out that last one. No way in hell am I naming any child of mine Draco Jr. She sighed. He really wants to continue the Black family tradition, doesn't he? And he's convinced it's going to be a b-. The sight of another piece of Parchment caught her eye and she could feel a bout of raw emotion bubble up in her heart.

Girl Names

Cassiopeia Narcissa Malfoy

Cassiopeia Lyra Malfoy

Cassiopeia Rose Malfoy

Lyra Narcissa Mafloy

Lyra Rose Malfoy

Lyra Bella Malfoy...Side note: Nope, too close to my crazy aunt.

Hermione smiled slightly at that one. She liked the name, but was glad he crossed that one out as well, she was - almost - over what happened to her, but she would never really be okay with that name.

Rose Andromeda Malfoy

Rose Nymphadora Malfoy…Not sure if I want my daughter named Nymph.

Rose Draco Malfoy …Side note: Maybe I'll agree to Rose, it's not a star or constellation or anything, but it's nice and Hermione loves it. I wonder if she'll allow me her name to be Draco. Princess Rose Draco, yes, that's about right. Must talk to her about this one.

Hermione almost laughed out loud at that one. Not a chance, Malfoy. I am not name my daughter Draco, you vain man. She could feel the tears welling up. Despite all his gospel of having a boy, he had actually considered the possibility of having a girl instead and went as far as to come up with names, almost as many as the boys' names, too. He really, really, wanted a boy, but he would love a girl just the same.

-oOo-

Draco sat at his desk reviewing, noting, copying and signing away on various parchments strewn over his desk, while he glanced up Hermione ever other minute. Hermione was in her own little world, curled up on the sofa in front of a low fire, reading and rubbing her tummy. She decided to - or rather Draco had nagged her until she decided to - move in with him for the last month and half of her pregnancy. He didn't go to the office anymore - perks of being the boss - he just worked at home and hardly left her side. She had also been demoted from not being able to make her own tea to not being able to have steaming hot tea, because she "could accidentally burn yourself and hurt yourself and our son" Bloody, ridiculous, of course and he still insisted on it being a boy. She gave up trying to tell him otherwise, they'd just have to wait and see.

She never did yell at him for applying for maternity leave behind her back - and in her name at that - like she was suppose to have done a few weeks ago, if only because she had actually planned on doing it herself. She had the documents and paperwork prepared and ready to hand in that morning she went to work, only to be told that she had already done everything and that she should be on leave already. Plus, the fact that he came up with girls' names, making sure to consider 'Rose' as a possibility also helped his case. It was the one girl name she absolutely insisted on if they had a girl and he listened. She had let him off easy with a scolding, good lecture and a promise that the next he intervened like that she would curse him with impotency for a month. He had been wary of her and her wand for a week straight after that.

As she reached over for her not-hot-enough cup of tea, she felt a pain run up spine. She bit her lip and groaned, that was the second time it happened today, but this one was stronger. She wasn't worried, the healer said she'd feel random jolts of mild pain and discomfort in the last two to three weeks.

"Soon, baby, soon." she whispered to her stomach as she grasped the teacup.

"What was that?" Draco questioned, looking up from his desk.

"Nothing, just a bit of pain" she waved him off.

Draco was getting more and more concerned. He knew the healer said she would feel small bursts of pain as it came closer to the due date, but Hermione didn't groan so loud the previous times. Maybe he should -

"Are you sure, that one was harder. Maybe we should call the mediwitch, just in case?" His voice was so full of concern, she turned and smiled at him. Who knew Draco - king of indifference and aloofness - Malfoy could be so attentive?

"I'm fine, Draco," she promised. He watched for a few more seconds before he, reluctantly, went back to his papers.

Ten minutes later she couldn't hold it any longer, she had to go the loo. Damn my weak bladder. She slipped her feet into overly-stuffed and overly-fluffy slippers - he insisted she wore them - and rose slowly from the sofa. Draco looked up and the sound of movement and made to stand.

"Draco, really, I'm fine. I'm just going to the loo!"

"But - "

"Sit. Down."

And so he sat - until she was out the door. He got up to follow her, but from a distance, of course. He didn't even make it to the door when -

"Draco Malfoy, if you leave that room you will regret it." He sighed. He just wanted to make sure she was alright, that's all. He huffed and went back to his desk and did the only thing he could do - wait.


As Hermione stood, leaning over the sink awkwardly, washing her hands, she still felt she hadn't quite relieved herself completely. she didn't feel like going again, but something in her needed to be relieved. She shrugged off the notion and dried her hands.

The short trek back took even longer than it did the first time as walked even more slowly this time. No. something is going to happen and soon. I can feel it. Maybe I just need to get to bed. Yeah, that'll do it, a bit of rest. It's nearly 9:30 anyway. I'll just tell Draco I'm off to bed. Hermione gingerly made her way to the dark oak door, pushed it open and backed in. When she was inside, she closed it quietly as not to disturb Draco from his work. All her stealth was in vain however because as she turned around she came face to face with a far-too-close Draco Malfoy.

"What the hell are you doing?" she whispered harshly as she clutched at her chest.

"Sorry, you were taking too long."

She sighed. It was getting out of hand, soon he'd start checking to make sure she was still breathing in her sleep. She understood why he was being so overbearing and protective. After the two miscarriages his mother suffered before he was born and the one after, when he was seven, she understood his need to see her through, especially when the mediwitch told her she needed to be careful because of the damages her body suffered having been exposed to the Crucuatius Curse for an extended period of time. She exhaled loudly and leaned forward into his chest, then inhaled deeply.

"Are you okay?" he ventured cautiously.

"Yeah," she exhaled, "I'm fine. I think I'll go to bed now, alright."

"Oh, okay. I'll -"

"No. Draco, I'm fine. Go back to work," she cupped his cheek and kissed him, "then come to bed when you're done."

He nodded and she walked - waddled - over to retrieve her book and blanket. Draco made his way back to the desk, never taking his eyes from her and as she reached the door connecting to his - their - suite, she turned and smiled at him. When she disappeared through the door, Draco let out a frustrated breath.

"Soon. Soon this will be over and we'll have our baby. Our healthy baby - our healthy, living, baby." He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his temples before retaking his seat.

In their suite, Hermione slowly changed into her pyjamas. Almost there, just need to get to the bed and I'll be fine. She made her way to the bed, stood beside and breathed deeply.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inha-

A surge of pain shot straight from her gut to the base of her neck and she stumbled onto the bed and doubled up in pain.

"Aaaah, fuck," she breathed through clenched teeth. No, something is happening. I have to get him.

When she gained enough strength to move, she all but crawled over to the door leading to the study, leaning on every bit of furniture and wall. When she managed push the door open, another wave of pain surged through her body. This time she couldn't keep from crying out.

"DRACO!" and that's when her it happened.

Whatever was inside that she needed to be released, broke and she looked down between her legs when she felt the liquid leaking out of her knickers, down her thighs and she watched it drip onto the carpet. Where are you?! I need you.

"DRACO!" This time he came, in an instant he was there at her side looking more alarmed that she had ever seen him. When she doubled over in pain again, he became panicky.

"What? Granger, what's wrong?! Tell me, please."

"M-my water just broke!" she managed.

"Water? Do you need some more, I can get you more! Is it the piping? We can have the it fixed, I promise."

"No, you idiot! My water broke!" He was bewildered for two more seconds before it hit him.

"The baby! The baby is coming" He let go of Hermione and ran into the room and into the closet to get the overnight bag she had packed.

"Yes, the baby is coming," she said as she propped herself up against the frame and waited for him.

"Tippy! Dippy! Tilly!" and the three house elves appeared after a series of three short pops.

"Master!" came their concerned cries.

"The baby!" Draco cried.

"The baby?!" that was Tippy.

Draco was running around trying to find his shoes and tie - can't leave the house without being fully dressed - and a proper robe for Hermione. If she wasn't in so much discomfort she would have laughed at the scene - a frantic Draco Malfoy and his three confused, concerned house elves.

"Yes, the baby! He's coming!" he said pointing to Hermione by the door. Three elated and frantic shrieks came in response to his declaration.

"The baby! The baby! The baby!" the elves chanted, that's when Draco started barking out commands.

"Tilly, go to St. Mungo's and have them prepared for our arrival."

"Yes, Master!" Pop! She disappeared.

"Tippy, fetch father and mother and - and everyone, bring them to St. Mungo's"

"Yes, Sir!" Pop! There she goes.

"Dippy, prepare for the baby's return!"

"But, of course!" Pop! The last one was off.

Hermione watched from her position as Draco managed to gain some semblance of control after he struggled with the laces on his last shoe. He stood up, looked in the mirror and smoothed out his outer coat. How vain. He grabbed the bag and the robe, stepped over Hermione and ran to the floo. Did he just step right over me?! Just where the hell does he think he's going? He stepped into the floo before realising Hermione wasn't right behind him and turned around to find her still on the floor where he left her, he became frantic, again.

"Granger, what you doing?! Let's go! Get up!" he nearly shouted.

"Are you out of your mind? I can barely move, you dolt!" Is he serious? I barely made it to the door and he expects to just get up and walk to the floo.

"Oh, right. Sorry." She glared at him as he over to pick her up.

"You're a right idiot, you know that?"

"I'm sorry, okay? I forgot."

"You forgot that your pregnant girlfriend - whose water just broke - can't just get up and sprint to the floo?" she demanded.

"Yes!" he shot back.

They argued as he picked her up and they argued all the way to the floo.

-oOo-

The mediwitch had just left Hermione in the room - private, of course - when Draco came back in. His hair was all over the place and his clothes were wrinkled, his shirt was barely done up and his tie hung loosely around his neck. She hadn't seen him quite so rumpled since the last time she dragged him into storage cupboard for a mid-afternoon quickie and she smiled.

"Hey," she greeted tiredly.

"How are you? Any more pain," he asked as he sat beside the bed.

"Good. And just a little, they gave me a potion for the pain."

"Good, good." He sighed and rested his head on the bed. She reached and rubbed the nape of his neck and he leaned into her touch, he had had a rough night.

"Is everyone here yet?" she asked quietly.

"No, not yet, but they're on their way."

"Harry and Ron and the Weasleys too, right?" When he didn't answer immediately, she stilled her actions.

"Draco, tell me you called them?"

"I - I didn't know if I should have," he responded weakly.

"Draco," she whined in exasperation.

"What? You haven't spoken to them in two weeks, how should I have known?" His defense was week and he knew it.

"Just because I'm not talking to them doesn't mean I don't want them here!"

"What? Yes, it does. If you're not on speaking terms with someone you don't go about inviting them places."

"I'm having a baby, Draco. I want them here," she replied stubbornly. Draco groaned and dropped his head back to the bed.

"I suppose I'll have to go call them now."

"Yes, please."

Draco groaned once more before getting up. As he left the room he grumbled and griped about how Potters and Weaselys didn't deserve to be at the birth of the next Malfoy and how they should just read it in the paper like the rest of the 'commoners'. She shook her head at him and smiled. I suppose they'll never get along.

-oOo-

Two hours later, the waiting room on the Maternity floor was dead silent despite the number of occupants, sides were chosen and lines were drawn. On left, the Gryffindors - the Potter and Weasley combined clan - and on the right, the Slytherins - Parkinson, Zabini, Nott, Goyle, the Greengrass sisters and , of course, the elder Malfoys.

The tense, awkward silence ended fifteen minutes later when a dishevelled Draco Malfoy came running 'round the corner and down the corridor. He skidded, in a very un-Malfoy like manner, to a halt on the tiled floor smack in the middle of the waiting room, practically bursting. He didn't even wait to catch his breath before delivering the news.

"BOY! It's a boy!" he yelled.

The room broke out, in low murmurs amongst the Gryffindors, and choruses of Hooray's and Good job, mate's amongst the Slytherins. Draco headed straight to right of the room, without even a glance to left. He was pulled into congratulatory hugs and pats on the back by his friends before his mother pulled him into a fierce hug and Lucius, well Lucius did what Lucius does. He stood on the outskirts of the group and waited for the excitement to die down a bit. Draco nodded to his father before turned to head back to his girlfriend and son. As he was about to enter the corridor, he noticed movement to his left and when he turned he found he was being trailed by Potter and the Weasel.
He would have none of it.

"Don't even think about it, Scarehead." he sneered, "You and your redhead beasts stay out here."

"Shove off, Malfoy. We're going to see our bestfriend," Ron ground out as he and Harry went to push past Draco.

"Oh, how bloody convenient. She wasn't your 'bestfriend' when you two yelled at her and told her she was stupid for having child with me a few weeks ago." Draco spat back. Their faces reddened in embarrassment and shame as they made another attempt to pass the blond.

"I don't think so, aresholes" he said, "besides, she's not ready to see anyone yet. Healer said so."

They didn't look convinced, but they really weren't sure Hermione wanted to see them yet and they didn't want to upset her, so they begrudgingly conceded and returned to their seats, but not before glaring back. Draco smirked and nodded toward his group, then made his way back to the room.

-oOo-

Ten minutes later Harry looked to other side of the room to find it empty, not a slimy Slytherin in sight. And being Harry, he did what Harry always did when Slytherins were involved, he got suspicious. He turned to Ron to ask him what he thought and saw that Ron was already surveying the right side of the room suspiciously. When they made eye contact, they knew they were thinking the same thing and nodded to each other. Harry and Ron rose from their seats, made the appropriate excuses and set out to find the missing Slytherins.

"Where do you suppose they've gone, Ron?" Harry questioned.

"No idea, I looked up and they were all gone." Ron responded.

"They're up to something, I know it," to which Ron grunted in agreement.

They walked down the main hall checking every other door, they were about to pass a minor corridor when Harry caught sight of the end of a purple robe fluttering around the corner at the end - Parkinson.

"This way, Ron. I think I just saw Parkinson" They walked briskly down the hall and cleared the bend just as Pansy was about to turn another corner.

"Parkinson!" Harry called. She stilled immediately, but waited a moment to face her pursuers.

"What do you and your tumour want, Potter?" she asked in flat voice.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked before Ron could reply.

"That's none of your business, Potter," she scoffed.

"Just tell us where you're going, Parkinson" Ron huffed impatiently.

"Well, if you must know, I'm going to the restroom," she hissed.

"Oh," Ron said.

"Why come this far to go the loo, there aren't any closer to the waiting room?" Harry questioned, he didn't buy it.

"Because, Potter, the one I'm going to is nicer and less used," came her irritated reply. When they hesitated she added, "What would you two like to accompany me to the loo?"

"No," they both said quickly and turned to leave, walking down the corridor and back to the waiting room. Harry still didn't buy it.

They were in the room for fifteen minutes before Ginny got up and went to the receptionist and five minutes later she returned to Harry's side.

"Hey, where did you go?" he whispered.

"Just to the loo."

"Oh, there's one 'round a bunch of corners down that side, apparently" he said.

"What? No, there isn't. The only thing down there are rooms," Ginny corrected.

"What? Really? Only rooms?"

"Yes," she answered slowly, "Is everything okay?" Harry shook his head, shot out of his seat and to the receptionist.

"Excuse me, Miss."

"Yes, Mister Potter, is everything okay?"

"I'm afraid not. Could you tell me where the restrooms are?"

"Oh, sure. Down the main corridor, on your second left."

"Are those the only restrooms on this floor?"

"Well, no, but those are the only ones available to visitors. The rest are inside rooms."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Of course." and a flustered Harry returned to a concerned Ginny and a confused Ron.

"That lying wench!" Harry hissed as he ran his hands through his hair.

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, what's going on, Harry?"

"She lied, there are no restrooms in those parts. " he explained " Parkinson lied! The only thing around those parts are private rooms!"

"Lying wench," Ron reiterated.

"I bet she's gone to see them."

"But Malfoy said -" Ginny muttered.

"Yeah, Malfoy said, which means it was probably a lie!"

"Oi, what's going on?" George interrupted.

"What's going on is that Malfoy lied when he said no one was allowed in yet, he's snuck all the Slytherins in!"

"Why, that slimy git!" Ginny cursed

"C'mon, Ron. Let's go find them," Harry said pulling him up by the arm.

"I'm coming, too."

"No, sit tight. We'll come get you all when find them."

The walked briskly down the main corridor, but broke into a small jog when they made the first turn. When they reached the corner where they caught Pansy, they stopped to regroup their thoughts.

"Where do you suppose she went?" Ron asked.

"Couldn't have been far that from here, could it? There are only, what, four more corridors that branch off from this one. She must have been gone into one of these rooms. "

"That's a lot of rooms to check." Ron was not looking forward to this.

"Then we better get started."

They went in search, checking every single room and cupboard.

-oOo-

The small group of Slytherins surrounded the bed where a tired, but excited Hermione lay with her boyfriend by her side. Narcissa was holding the new born, while Astoria, Daphne and Pansy cooed over the him. The gentlemen stood behind them having a very 'manly' discussion on how cute the baby was and Lucius, as usual, was observing the group from his little corner behind Draco.

"It's a boy, you know." Draco said as he buried his face in her hair.

"I know, Draco. You've said that already," she chuckled softly.

"I was right and you were wrong, I was just reminding you." he insisted.

"This is the seventh time you've reminded me," she smiled into his chest.

"Our baby boy, Scorpius Draco Malfoy."

"Yes, our baby boy," she sighed happily.

When Scorpius started getting fussy about being passed around a few minutes later, he was handed back to Hermione, and after another few minutes, the Slytherins slipped out one by one after saying their short goodbyes and congratulations. Well, that went well. It wasn't as awkward as Hermione thought it would have been being surrounded by Slytherins. Although she was friends with them, especially with Daphne and Pansy, she wasn't super close to the rest of them, they were more Draco's friends.

"Ehem." Lucius cleared his throat. Oh, no. Not today, I was having such a good time.

"Lucius," his wife warned quietly.

"I would just like to say that although the circumstances of his birth has left a lot to be desired and despite his impur-"

"Father," Draco hissed.

"Right - Despite his...Halfblood status, I have accepted Scorpius as my grandson." He waited for everyone to breathe a sigh of relieved, then added, "I still don't like you, Miss Granger."

"Father!"

"Lucius!"

Hermione just smiled, she understood. He would probably never like her and that was okay, as long as he was civil and as long as he loved his grandchild. He had said that very same thing to her every chance he got from the moment he found out about her and Draco's 'outrageous, improper, unacceptable' relationship. She chuckled because this time it wasn't laced with hatred and contempt and didn't miss the small the twitch at the corner of his lip when he said it. She mouthed 'Thank you' while Draco and Narcissa glared at him. Hermione knew wasn't overly thrilled about a Halfblood Malfoy - or his mother - he had worked so hard to keep the bloodlines pure, but he knew Draco was happy, so he let it be. Hermione knew Lucius' acceptance probably had a lot to with Draco's threat to ensure the Malfoy line ended with him if he fixed to be uncooperative and a lot less to do with a change of heart toward her or their 'circumstances'. He was a Slytherin, after all, and the survival of his own was what he held as his highest priority. He'd take a Halfblood over nothing at all. She was tired and quite ready to sleep for the next two weeks, but there was something still missing.

"Draco, where are Harry and Ron?"

Shit.


Reminders
charleebleu

Reminders

She sits by the window wrapped in a thick, dark green quilt, cradling a half-empty glass of old wine, she takes a sip. A low fire burning and Beethoven's 9th symphony is background noise as she listens to the storm rage outside, she watches the rain pour. A Cuban cigar burns like incense on the cedar wood desk and the scent fills the room, she inhales deeply.

It has been ten years, the children are all grown with families of their own and she misses him something terrible.

"Mistress Malfoy," a house elf interrupts quietly, she gave up trying to get them to call her 'Hermione' and these days she finds she doesn't mind, when she turns, he bows, "your bath is ready." She nods and offers a weak smile, tugging at the broad-width platinum band that hangs from her neck.

Dark green, old wine, low fires, classical music, heavy rains, Cuban cigars and freshly polished furniture, all the things that remind her of him most.


His Little Girl
charleebleu

Title: His Little Girl
Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ronald Weasley
Rated: G
Summary: Ronald Weasley is about to meet the daughter on whom he walked out almost seven years ago and he's more than a little surprised that she knows her daddy.


It's the first time he's seeing her in the flesh in almost 8 years and he's nervous. She's beautiful, more so now than she was all those years ago. His stomach is full of butterflies and his throat is dry, but he summons his Gryffindor courage and approaches her. He stops at the opposite end of the park bench and when she doesn't notice, he clears his throat.

"Is this seat taken?"

She looks up and seems startled for a moment before recognising him. She doesn't rise to greet him, but offers a warm ,albeit strained, smile.

"Ron."

He swallows the lump in his throat.

"Hermione", he manages, "h-how are you?"

She regards him for a moment before she answers.

"Me, I'm very well," she hesitates, "and you, how are you?"

"I'm good, you know, doing real good."

They lapse into an awkward silence and in his mind he's scrambling for something to say. Finding nothing, he decides to jump right to point of this whole arrangement.

"So," he pauses, "where is she?"

For second she seems taken aback and confused, but she recovers quickly and looks over to the playground. Her eyes scan the parameter and she spots what she's looking for a warm smile spreads across her face.

"There," she points, "In the green polka dot dress by the sandbox."

He looks in the direction indicated and sure enough there she is. His little girl, playing the sandbox with two other children, seemingly in search for something. And she's beautiful, of course. Just like her mother, with a head full of curls and big, brown, bright eyes.

"W-when do I get to meet her," he questions, "officially, that is."

"When she's ready to come eat lunch," she responds, "It won't be too long from now, we've been here awhile."

He grunts in response and they lapse into another awkward silence.

After ten minutes, he chances a glance at her and finds her with her nose buried in a book, a novel of some sort. "Typical," he thinks.

"Something things never change," he comments and when she looks up he motions to the book.

"Well, yeah. I suppose some things never do." Her attention returns to the book.

He watches her, after a few seconds she changes the page and for the first time he sees it. An engagement ring with a dark - no doubt ridiculously expensive - stone and platinum wedding band. Married? and he voices his question.

"You're married?"

"Oh, well, yes" she replies "five years now," and though she isn't smiling, there's affection in her voice and a warmness in her eyes as she fingers the rings.

She looks at him, places her book face down on the bench, inhales deeply and hesitantly reaches for the hem of her jumper, he follows the movement. She takes another deep breath, lifts the jumper and smooths a hand over her stomach to reveal the small swell of her cotton-clad abdomen.

"And pregnant," she explains dreamily, "almost two months"

Pregnant!? He's stunned into silence and for a few seconds his mind is completely blank. When he comes to it, he makes to respond when a shriek interrupts him. The spell is broken and they face the direction from which the sound came to see the little girl, in her green polka dot dress, stand up and scan her surroundings. The butterflies in his stomach have tripled in size and force.

This is it. I meet my baby girl today.

When she spots her mum, she comes running and it seems she's got something cradled in her palm. When she's still a significant distance away he hears her chanting.

"Mummy, mum, mummy! Look what I've got!"

She stops a little ways off and her gaze shifts to him, he freezes. Her smile gets even bigger, she drops whatever she was holding and she's positively beaming. She's beaming at him and with increased enthusiasm she runs toward him. His breath catches and his heart constricts when he hears her yell,

"Daddy! You're here! You're here!"

"She knows", he thinks, "She knows her daddy!". He's surprised, shocked and beyond ecstatic. He doesn't notice when Hermione turns.

She's running towards him as fast as her 7 year-old legs can take her. When she's a little ways off, she seems ready to pounce and he shifts in his seat, ready to receive her, his little girl.

He leans forward, arms stretched and ready catch her. She's running towards him. And she's almost there. She's almost there. Almost in his arms.

But at the last second, she changes her direction ever so slightly and runs right past him. Flustered and more than a little confused, he turns to see where she has gone. And he when he turns, it's just in time to see her launch herself in to the arms of another man. A tall man. A tall, blond man. The man is spinning in circles with his face buried and blowing into her belly and she's shrieking in girlish delight and screaming,

"Daddy, daddy! No! That tickles!"

Now, he's not only confused and flustered, but hurt and angry.

The scene plays out for two minutes before the man relents. And when he does, he sets the little girl down, straightens his suit and attempts to fix his hair. When the man finally looks up, they make eye contact. Ron's face drains of colour, his mouth hangs agape, the butterflies die and his heart shatters.

The man is Draco Malfoy. Her daddy is Draco Malfoy.


Because I'm Just Like Him
charleebleu
Title: Because I'm Just Like Him
Parings: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Characters: Hermione Granger, Scorpius Malfoy, Ronald Weasley
Rating: G

That arrogant stance. That annoying, superior, smug expression across his slightly pointy visage. And those unyielding, steely grey eyes and that smirk. That fucking smirk. This boy was epitome of everything he hated since his schoolboy days. Everything that he has always resented. Until that moment, Ronald Weasley had never, in his life, felt such hatred towards a child.

"No. You can't make me."

"You arrogant, little piece of -"

"WHAT IS GOING ON!?" Hermione yelled as she entered the room. The little boy, no older than 8, ran to her and buried his face into her waist,"He's yelling at me, mum, and I haven't clue why" the boy whined as he clung to her hips.

"Ron," she admonished, "How many times have I got to tell you, you don't need to yell at him! He's a quiet boy, if you just sit down and speak, he'll listen!"

"No, he won't," Ron spat, "All he does is talk back! Every time I try to tell him something, he doesn't listen! He does the exact opposite and when I try to punish him he comes running to you! And what do you do? You coddle and comfort him, every single time! You're spoiling him rotten, Hermione and I'm tired of the lack of respect he gives me." By the end of his rant, Ron's face was red and his was breathing in short huffs.

"See, I told you!" cried the boy, pointing an accusing finger, "He's always yelling at me!"

"Love, come on now, don't cry. No need to cry" she comforted. "Look what you've -"

"You're doing it again!" Ron yelled, "Stop coddling him!"

"He's just a child, Ron," she argued.

Sniffling, the boy released his grip on Hermione's hips, turned to face the angry, ginger man, squared his small shoulders and lifted his chin in defiance.

"It's okay. I understand. I know he hates me." he said in a calm, business-like tone, it was a voice that belonged to someone far beyond his years.

"Honey, h-he doesn't hate y-" Hermione started

"Yes," he interuppted, "yes he does and I know why."

"Honey,-"

"It's because I look just like him! Just like my dad and he hates my dad. He has always hated him."

"Shut up!" Ron ground out "Shut up you-you bastard!"

"RON!" Hermione yelled, "How dare you!"

"NO! I'm not going to shut up because you know it's true!" the boy replied, unfazed.

"He's jealous because he knows that you will never love him like you loved my father! He hates me because I'm just like him!"

Hermione just stared, astonished at her 8 year-old son. She didn't realise he knew so much, so much about his father. A father he never had the chance to meet. Overcome with emotion, tears welled up in her eyes and she reached for the boy and held him tight.

Ron couldn't stand it any more. The boy was right. He had always known, but to hear it out loud from the carbon copy of the bane of his existence, it was unbearable.

He stared on at the scene in front of him of a sobbing Hermione holding her son. Her son that she did not share with him and his heart clenched. He had to leave. He had to get away from there.

He made his decision then. He would sign those divorce papers she had delivered to him almost 6 months ago, after their last big row when he slipped and called the boy 'ferret'. He would let her go. Because after 7 years of marriage, after 7 years of fighting for the heart of a woman in love with another, Ronald Weasley had lost. He had lost to a dead man. Even in death, Draco Malfoy, through his son, managed to best him.

As he turned to leave, he caught sight of the face of an 8 year-old boy whose eyes shone with the knowledge that he had won.

He's Back
charleebleu
Title: He's Back
Parings: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Rating: G

This was it. This was the first day of her very last year at Hogwarts. Hermione was a bit skeptical about returning after the war without Harry and Ron, but the pull to learn and complete her education had been too strong. She was one of the few from her year to return, as expected, but she was still looking forward to it.

She breathed in the fresh, crisp, early-morning air and was happy she'd decided to come back. As she made her way through the halls of the newly restored castle toward to the Great Hall, a flash of white-blond hair caught her eye. Blinking rapidly, mouth agape, she stared. The few students milling around the halls gave him a wide berth, some threw him suspicious glances, while others visibly cringed as he passed. Those who fixed to make any comment were quickly set straight under his stony glare.

He looked nothing like he did the last time she saw him, after his trial. For a moment, Hermione thought she was seeing things, but there he was. Straight back, squared shoulders, raised chin, cold, emotionless grey eyes and clad in perfectly laundered school robes.

Draco Malfoy was back.