Chapter Text
April 2003, Malfoy Manor
“Hermione,” came a soft voice from behind her. She turned towards it, pulling her eyes away from the full length mirror in front of her, and grinned at the sight. Harry was standing in the doorway to the room, looking incredibly elegant in a Muggle tuxedo. Resting on his hips was a sleepy James, head nuzzled against his father’s shoulder and eyes half lidded as he peered up at her.
“How’s my handsome man?” Hermione cooed, stepping forward and reaching for James.
Harry laughed. “Only man ? Singular?” he pressed, and Hermione laughed, leaning forward to kiss her best friend’s cheek.
“I’m sorry Harry, but you’ll never be anything compared to this perfect angel,” she leant over to kiss James’s forehead and ruffle his dark hair softly as she did.
“Sixteen months old and already spoiled rotten,” Harry mumbled, but turned away so Hermione couldn’t pick him up. “You’re going to ruin your dress,” he reminded her, and Hermione sighed, glancing down and brushing a hand over the lacy fabric.
“Would love to see the look on Narcissa’s face if I did though, wouldn’t you? ‘First you demand a Muggle dress - oh come, dear, you’d look much better in robes! - and now you’ve gone and gotten chocolate all over it! What on earth am I do with you?’” Hermione mocked, though her tone was teasing more than anything. Narcissa had been uncomfortable, at first, when they met and Hermione was introduced as Draco’s fianceé. But when the older woman had learned what she had done for Draco, when she got to know Hermione and her sharp wit and unfailing loyalty, she had started to come around. They were far from friends, and Hermione could certainly never consider her a mother, but their relationship was cordial and the woman had been a wonderful help in choosing such a beautiful dress, despite her misgivings of its origin. Hermione had never expected to see Narcissa so happy, and she had thought to herself that she should have taken her to a Oxford Street much earlier in their tentative friendship.
Harry snorted and then sighed, looking over her. “I’ll never get over how happy you look, Hermione,” he admitted, crooked grin tugging at his lips. “If you’d told me at eleven that the thing that would make you the happiest in the world was him-”
“At eleven? The thing that would have made me the happiest would have been seeing him covered in flobberworm guts.” Hermione admitted with a laugh.
“The feeling’s mutual.” Came a voice from outside, and Hermione squeaked in surprise and stepped back away from the door.
“Don’t you come in here, Draco Malfoy!” She scolded, rolling her eyes at Harry. “You know that you’re not-”
“Supposed to see you, I’m aware, you’ve told me a hundred times,” Draco finished, letting out an exaggerated long suffering sigh. “I just wanted to make sure that you’re alright. Do you need anything?”
Hermione let out a happy sigh and shook her head. “No, love. I’m not going to run, I’m not going to throw the ring at your head-”
“Again,” Draco huffed.
“Well maybe if you hadn’t been such a-”
Harry coughed loudly. “As much as I’m enjoying,” he grimaced, “being in the middle of this strange version of foreplay that the two of you have going on, I think it’s about time.” Harry looked back up to Hermione and sighed once more at her, shaking his head. “I’ll see you soon.”
Hermione nodded, and watched as Harry left the room, listening to Draco say something and the laughter that trickled down the hallway after them. Before she had any more time to muse on the day ahead of them, or the nearly four years behind, someone else was shuffling into the room.
“Right!” Came the voice, and Hermione grinned. It had Quidditch captain written all over it, and she turned around to face the redhead who looked stunning in a dark green dress. “Last chance to turn and run,” the woman joked, and Hermione giggled in response. Ginny rushed up to kiss Hermione’s cheek quickly and then stepped behind her to pick up the train of the dress that was resting on the floor. “After you.”
Hermione picked up her bouquet of flowers on the way and together with Ginny, began the way towards the grounds of the Manor. She’d been living here for nearly two years, and the hallways that had once been dark and threatening now instead whispered home - though it had helped that she’d boxed up every single painting who’d given her grief about her blood and stashed them all in the attic. The few who were left gasped as she walked by, and one woman - Draco’s great great grandmother on his mother’s side - burst into tears, blubbering about how beautiful Hermione looked.
They reached the garden without incident - Hermione had chosen to wear flat shoes instead of heels - and finally they stood at the edge of the clearing they had chosen to be married in. There were a few dozen chairs set up, filled with their family and closest friends. Harry was waiting at the end of the aisle for her, and took her arm in his when she reached him. Up at the front, Hermione could see Draco standing, nervous and looking down at his shoes.
Someone swished their wand, and the music began. Harry squeezed her hand and they began their walk up the aisle just as Draco looked up. His eyes met Hermione’s and then broke as he skimmed them over her dress, his face lighting up in a smile when he looked back at her face. Hermione was grinning too, and she could barely take her eyes off him as they reached the front of the space.
Finally, they stopped. She turned to Harry and pulled him into a tight hug, whispering thank you in his ear. He stepped away and joined Draco at the front, taking his place beside Draco’s best “man” Pansy (in a set of deep crimson dress robes), and George, the other groomsman.
Ginny helped Hermione up next to Draco and then snatched the bouquet from her hand, stepping back to join Win and a very pregnant Hannah behind her.
Hermione reached forward and caught Draco’s hands in her own and he grinned down at her, lighting up the space with the way his whole face glowed. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, and Hermione grinned up at him.
“And you look stunning,” she agreed, and he laughed softly.
“Ladies and gentleman,” began the man behind them, his heavy voice filling the space and quieting the crowd and laughing Draco. “Friends, and family,” he continued. “We are gathered here today to witness the union of Draco Lucius Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger. Before we begin, the bride and groom have requested that we take a moment of silence to remember those of us unable to join us today.” Draco’s smile dimmed as he clearly thought about Lucius, tied to him in the legacy of a name, a head of blonde hair, and a mark seared into his skin. Hermione thought instead of Fred, of Remus and Tonks, of Colin Creevey, and of her own parents who were lost in an entirely different way. The entire audience seemed to follow the same route, heads bowed and deep breaths taken as they remembered the sacrifices of their peers and loved ones.
Hermione took a moment to look up and scan the gathered crowd. The Weasley’s were all there, of course. Molly was holding James, who had perked up a little when the music started. Beside her, Arthur was holding Fred - George and Win’s son - and Ron was holding Eliza, Fred’s twin sister. Andromeda was directly beside them, five-year-old Teddy (currently sporting bright platinum blonde hair, to match his favourite cousin Draco) on her lap, and Fleur was next, nearly-three-year-old Victoire on hers.
Behind them were Luna, Dean, and Seamus, arms full between the two two year old toddlers who were clambering around to sit on different parents at the change of a mood, and giggling to each other in the process. Hermione could also see Neville, a large grin on his face with no Lavender in sight. She also spotted Narcissa, Blaise Zabini with Parvati beside him, Theo and Astoria holding hands, and Goyle and Daphne on opposite sides of the room doing their best not to look at each other. It was a small crowd but a happy and loving one, exactly what Hermione wanted. She turned back towards Kingsley, who was smiling at her with pride, and he cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the crowd back towards him.
“It has been a long road that has gotten us to this point,” Kingsley began, grinning at the couple in front of him. “While I didn’t know Draco particularly well until a few years ago, I think all of us here are well aware of the history of the individuals standing in front of us,” Draco lifted a hand to rub at his cheek and Harry laughed out loud behind him. “But I think we can all agree that Hermione and Draco are, clearly, perfectly matched. I’ve believe that you have each prepared your own vows,” Kingsley confirmed, and they each nodded at him. “So Draco, I’ll pass the floor to you first.”
Draco flushed slightly but cleared his throat, turning his full attention towards Hermione. He was not normally someone who was nervous while public speaking, but this was a momentous occasion and he clearly did not want to ruin it. “‘It is a truth universally acknowledged,’” he began, and Hermione’s grin grew even larger. “‘That a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.’ While I admire Jane Austen’s literary prowess, I must admit that I do not believe I can agree with this statement.”
Hermione bit her lip, and nodded at him, and Draco continued. “Three years ago, I was exactly that. A single man in possession of a good fortune, but I was certainly not in want of a wife. And certainly not in want of the one chosen for me by the ministry,” he paused to glance over Hermione’s shoulder and flashed Ginny a smirk. “No offence, little red.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “None taken, you dolt,” she retorted, before tipping her head meaningfully towards Hermione and drawing a laugh from the crowd.
Draco cleared his throat, and refocused on Hermione. “Two years ago, I watched the most brilliant, kind, and beautiful woman that I know-” he paused again, and glanced at Narcissa who was crying openly, tears rolling down her cheeks, to whisper “apologies, mother,” and then turned back to Hermione. “- take on the most powerful governmental body in the Wizarding world to fight against an oppressive law. Not in the name of love, but in the name of justice, and equality, and a dash of pure Gryffindor bravery,” Draco reached out and cupped Hermione’s cheek in his hand, marvelling down at her.
“I knew at that moment that it was more than just want of a wife. I was in want, in need, of someone who looked past my sins, past my actions, past the exterior of a broken man drowning in firewhiskey and shame, and saw something bigger and better underneath it all. I was in want of a woman who held me in the night, who smacked me when I needed it,” Hermione giggled and the group laughed again, though many of them were dabbing at their eyes as they did so, “who pulled me out of my darkest place and promised me she would keep me there. It wasn’t just a woman. I was in want of you, Hermione. What we have is more than want, and passion, and desire - though we have plenty of that-”
Ginny fake gagged behind them, and Draco didn’t even bother to look up - though he saw Win lean over out of the corner of his eye and pinch the redhead on the arm.
“I had, I still have, the need to show you what you mean to me, to hold you up and support you. I want to help you when you’re stuck, and hold you when you cry. I want to be there to hand you an invaluable family heirloom to smash when you’re angry,” Narcissa gasped loudly and Ron guffawed with laughter. “I could never see myself with a wife, certainly not when I stood here three years ago and married Ginny Weasley.” Draco paused to look up, over Hermione’s shoulder. “Without you, Ginevra, I never would have learned what true love actually is. I never would have realized that it’s not being in want of a wife, but being in want of your better half.” Ginny grinned, and Draco turned back to Hermione. “Now I have the pleasure, and the privilege, of standing here with you, Hermione. Hopefully for the last time,” he joked, but Hermione was tearing up and Draco was blinking to fight back his own tears. “I know that you have made me into someone close to worthy of your love, and I know that I will spend the rest of my life proving to you just what you mean to me.”
Hermione choked down a sob and lifted her own hand to brush a strand of hair away from Draco’s forehead. “I’m not sure I can top that,” she murmured, and he grinned down at her. She took a minute to take a deep breath and compose herself, then she began.
“Lao Tzu wrote that ‘being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.’ I can’t say I understood this quote - after all, I was a Gryffindor who had faced off with the darkest wizard in our time more than once. I certainly had an abundance of strength and courage, didn’t I?” Hermione grinned over at Harry who was laughing at her, and she looked back to Draco. “But I think that Lao Tzu was right. Being loved by you, Draco, has given me strength. From nightmares, to panic attacks, facing old demons, and some new ones as well… your love has provided me with the strength to overcome, to look past what has haunted me and to know someone will be there on the other side.”
Draco’s grin had deepened, somehow, his eyes heavy and full of love. Hermione’s heart felt like it was on the edge of bursting, and she couldn’t seem to look away from him. Instead, she took a breath and continued. “Loving you, on the other hand, has given me courage in more ways that I can imagine. I think I need courage, to put up with you,” she teased, and grinned up at him. “But you’ve given me the courage to accomplish more than I could ever imagine. From the day you looked at me and said we could overthrow the law that kept us apart, to the moment you decided I should take your Wizengamot seat, and every day since then. You gave me the strength to overcome, yes, but you also gave me the courage to take the leap. I-” she paused and stumbled for a minute, closing her eyes.
“I never thought that you would be it for me, Draco. But from the minute I saw you lounging on the grass, laughing about Hamlet, you showed me that you were not who I had imagined. You have surprised me at every turn, until you didn’t- because I realized that you are so much more than anyone has given you credit for. You are brilliant, and ambitious, and hilarious. You keep me on my toes, but you also keep me grounded. You are so full of love, Draco Malfoy, and I am honoured to be on the receiving end of it. From now until our next great adventure.”
Harry was the first one to clap, and soon the entire group joined in. Draco was looking down at her as though she had hung the moon, and Hermione was looking back like he was the sun she circled around. Kingsley behind them cleared his throat, and everyone turned their attention back to him.
“A perfect match.” He reiterated, and then lifted his wand. “If you place your hands together, I will now complete the bonding ceremony.” They lifted their hands, Hermione’s small and dark, cradled in Draco’s large pale palms. Kingsley began to speak, and wound his wand around them, waving it overtop as shimmering golden light and shimmering silver wove themselves together. Hermione watched captivated as the ropes tied and knotted themselves into an intricate pattern, their skin shimmering underneath. And then, with a final word, the bonds sunk down into their skin and she shivered at the feeling of powerful magic coursing through her veins. Nothing felt different and yet, somehow, everything did.
February, 2005, Malfoy Manor
“What are you reading today, my love?”
Hermione glanced up from the book in her hands to smile at Draco. He was tugging off his tie and also trying to unbutton his shirt at the same time, and the sight of him in muggle clothes still set her heart beating into an erratic rhythm. She offered the book out to him and he caught it and laughed softly, skimming his eyes over the familiar cover page.
“Have I not been romantic enough these past few weeks, you’re running back to Mr. Darcy on me already?”
Hermione laughed and sat up from the bed, reaching out to him and pulling him down to join her when he arrived at the edge of the mattress. “You’ve been busy,” she admitted with a shrug. “But that’s understandable. The store-”
Draco shrugged off her platitudes. “The store is always busy,” he reminded her. “Can you believe we’ve been married nearly two years now?” His thumb was now brushing back and forth across her knuckles and Hermione laughed again, leaning forward to kiss his cheeks.
“No. I feel like we’ve been busy this whole time,” she admitted.
“You have.” Draco reminded her with a laugh. “Overturning all the anti-werewolf legislation, destroying the creature registry, the anti-house elf abuse law, creating the prisoner health act-”
Hermione kissed his lips to shut him up. “You gave me the power, dear. I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.”
It was Draco’s turn to laugh, and he did so between kisses. “Have you heard from Harry and Ginny recently? He hasn’t been in the shop recently…”
“Ginny’s pregnant.” Hermione blurted out with a grin on her face, and Draco laughed in response. “I guess we all should have known, when she left the Harpies for good this time.”
“Hermione… do you ever wish that we…”
Hermione paused and looked into his eyes - worry and stress were clear and his shoulders were tensing again. She lifted a hand to push his shirt off so she could better rub at the tense muscles, and nodded. “I wasn’t ready, before. Everyone else seemed to be in such a rush, and I kept thinking of all the things I needed to do first.”
“But now, that you’ve finished most of those things?”
“Draco,” she paused, trying to think of the best way to explain her feelings, while not setting off alarms in his brain. “You’d be a brilliant father, you know. You will be a brilliant father.”
“What if I’m not?” he mumbled, pulling away from her soft touch and catching her hand in his so he could hold them both. His eyes were trained on the ring that sparkled on her finger and he was clearly trying to compose his emotions. “What if I turn into my father?”
Hermione managed to free one of her hands from his grasp and reached out to catch his chin, tilting it so that he’d have to look up and towards her. “You are not your father,” she stated, her voice clear and firm. “You never were. You are a good man, Draco Malfoy. I never would have married someone who wasn’t. You have proven yourself over and over to be a good man, a kind person, a loving husband… You’re going to be a brilliant father for our children.”
Draco swallowed, she watched his adam’s apple bob and then he focused on her eyes, and finally she could see a bit of humour behind them. “Ch-children?” he questioned, his voice sticking on the word - clearly thick with fear and stress but also something that sounded suspiciously like excitement.
“Well,” Hermione paused, grinning softly at him. “Let’s start with one and see how it goes?”
The blonde man in front of her took one more deep, steadying breath, and then he lunged forward, pressing Hermione back down into the mattress and capturing her lips in a searing kiss. He tangled his hands in her hair and she wrapped her legs up around him, pulling their bodies closer together. “Let’s hope they get my hair,” he teased, and Hermione laughed up into the kiss.
“As long as they get my brains.”
September 2008, St. Mungo’s
Hermione let out another scream and Draco snapped his head towards the healer standing cross-armed beside his wife’s bed, who seemed unnaturally calm despite the situation. “Can’t you do something?” he growled, for what must have been the tenth time.
“As I have told you already, Mr. Malfoy, this is just a natural part of the birthing process. We are monitoring her carefully and this is completely normal.”
“But, she shouldn’t be in this much pain!” Draco retorted, as Hermione whimpered below him and clutched at his hand tighter. “The only reason we’re here in the first place is because of the fucking dark curse scar on her abdomen, so if this is causing-”
“Mr. Malfoy,” the healer snapped. “Have you ever given birth?”
Draco huffed and lifted a hand to tenderly brush a strand of hair off of Hermione’s face. “Obviously not.”
“Then, I would ask that you kindly focus on your wife and trust me when I tell you that childbirth is painful , even with the potions we can provide. You should be well aware of this. Now, please let me do my job and check how dilated she is.”
Draco nearly growled but he nodded, and turned back towards Hermione, who had closed her eyes in the midst of the argument. “Love?” he prompted, and she snapped her head over towards him.
“I was tortured , Draco Malfoy. I was tortured and this is worse - how dare you!” she murmured, voice almost incoherent but her meaning still clear. “Can’t believe I let you do this to me… we are never doing this again do you hear me? I swear to Merlin and Morgana and… and God OW-”
She trailed off as another contraction hit and the healer glanced up from where she crouched between Hermione’s legs. “This is it, Hermione! You’re doing brilliantly, I just need you to take a deep breath and push for me, okay?”
Draco looked down at his wife once more and grinned, catching her eyes. “You heard the woman, baby, push.”
Time seemed to swirl to a standstill and then all of a sudden it was over, Hermione let out a large wracking sob and Draco kissed her sweaty forehead. “You did it,” he murmured, glancing over to where the midwife was casting a few charms on the bundle in her arms. “You did so good,” he added, and Hermione nodded against him as she tried to catch her breath.
“Hermione,” the midwife turned back towards them and reached forward, placing the small child against her chest. “Meet your daughter.”
Hermione let out another choked sob as she reached up to hold the bundle closer, and Draco leaned over with tears brimming in his eyes. “Cassie,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss his child’s forehead.
“Draco?” Hermione whispered, not breaking her eyes away from the small child she had just brought into the world. “Go get Scorpius. I want him to meet his baby sister.”
September, 2016, King’s Cross Station - Platform 9 3/4
“Dad?”
Draco did his best to hold back a sigh and crouched down to be eye level with his son. “Yes, Scorpius?”
“But are you sure- ”
“That you’re going to have the best time of your life? That you’re going to learn to be a brilliant wizard? That you’ll make the Quidditch team?”
Scorpius nodded.
“Yes.”
“But Dad? What if I don’t make any friends?”
Hermione crouched down as well, tugging Cassie closer towards the group and reaching out with her free hand to take one of Scorpius’s. “Scorp, you already have friends. You have Kyra and Bryony, and James, and Fred and Eliza, and Rose, and Hugo…”
“And you have me!” Came a confident voice from behind the small family as Albus pushed through the crowd at the platform.
“Albus!” Scorp said, finally starting to sound happy as he reached out to hug his best friend.
“See?” Draco prompted, with a smile. “You and Albus are thick as thieves. And even if you don’t get sorted into the same houses, nothing like that could separate you two.”
“Mooooom,” Cassie half whined. “I want to go to Hogwarts too!!”
Hermione sighed and leaned over to kiss her daughter on the cheek. “Well, you’re stuck with us for a few more years. I bet if you ask him really nicely your dad’ll stop for ice cream on the way home?”
“Ice cream?” Another voice joined the crowd, as Lily Luna arrived with her parents in tow. “What did I just hear about ice cream for people who don’t get to go to Hogwarts this year?”
Harry laughed and reached out to hug Hermione and shake Draco’s hand. “The tricky Malfoy family strikes again.”
“I want ice cream too!” George’s voice joined the group, as he and Win arrived.
“Ice cream?” Ron and Hannah had arrived too, and just behind them were Dean and Seamus and Pansy and Luna.
Scorpius glanced back up at Draco, who looked down at his son with a broad grin on his face. “No matter what you do,” Draco said, reaching out to rest a hand on Scorpius’s shoulder. “I’ll be proud of you.”
“I love you, Dad,” Scorp mumbled, and Draco bent down to scoop his son into a hug.
“Love you too, Scorp.”
April 2035, Malfoy Manor
“We were lucky, weren’t we?” Draco murmured, setting down the book in his hand as he rolled onto his side to scan his eyes over Hermione’s face.
“What,” she began, doing the same and reaching a hand out to brush over his cheek. “That you still look so handsome in your fifties?”
Draco scoffed and reached for her, catching her hand and then rolling their bodies so that he lay on top of her. Hermione laughed in response and shifted her hand to brush over his bare chest, marvelling again at how pale and smooth his skin had stayed, despite years of outdoor Quidditch practice with their children, despite the years of pain and torture before that. He still had scars, but he also still had beautiful flowers tattooed on his forearm and more love in his eyes than she ever got used to seeing.
“That we found each other,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss her lips tenderly.
“Shallow men believe in luck or circumstance. Strong men believe in cause and effect.”
Draco raised a brow at her, but one of his hands was already sliding down the front of her body, dipping between her legs. He kissed her neck softly, and Hermione slid her free hand up into his hair, letting the silky strands twist between her fingers.
“I don’t think I know that one.” Draco mumbled against her skin, pressing his fingers into her and sliding them over her skin.
Hermione grinned, and then gasped as he removed his fingers and pressed his length into her instead. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, leaning over to capture his lips with her own. “I’ll teach you.”
Draco grinned against her and slid into her again. “Happy anniversary, my love.”
Hermione let out a sigh of contentment and let her head drop back against the pillow. “Happy anniversary.”
THE END