A Marriage Most Convenient

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Chapter 37: Another Conversation with Hermione and Draco

Happy are those who can possess the talent of flattering with delicacy.” – Jane Austen.

I never give compliments unless they’re due. It is easier to give insults than compliments. I have insulted my wife most of her life, but now when I’m around her, I have so many things good things to tell her that are left unsaid, but not because she doesn’t deserve them, but because I’m too tongue tied to speak.” – Draco Malfoy.

I think that I will tell my husband two things…’thank you’ and ‘I love you’ every day of my life, for the rest of my life, because those are the two truest things I feel.” – Hermione Granger.


Dancing in her new husband’s arms, Hermione looked over in the corner of the ballroom and she saw her daughter, holding her stuffed dragon, and she was fast asleep.

“Look over there, Draco. Alice fell asleep on the floor,” Hermione said, gesturing with her head to the corner.

Draco cocked his head to the side, turned his gaze to the corner, laughed and said, “She looks like a little ragamuffin on the floor, instead of like a princess. She has trouble falling asleep in a soft bed, when everything is quiet, but put her in a loud ballroom with several hundred people, and music playing, and its lights out.”

“She is a living, breathing, contradiction sometimes,” Hermione answered, “must be her parentage.” She placed her head on his shoulder. “I feel like sleeping, too.”

“Too bad. You have an exciting wedding night to look forward to, and I expect a recreation of a little incident that happened five years ago, at a little ball, which produced little princess ragamuffin over there. Do you recall that?” Hermione raised her head to look at him and he raised one eyebrow.

“Seriously, Malfoy, you act like a sex fiend,” she jested. “However, I think that can be arranged. What do you have planned for our honeymoon?”

“I told you, Love, a recreation of a particular little incident…you, me, a private chalet, a bubble bath, whips, chains, masks…need I continue?” He smirked.

“Chains? Whips? There were no whips and chains the night Alice was conceived. You must be remembering an incident with another masked woman. I dare say you are a pervert. You would give the Marquis de Sade a run for his money.”

“If you think you’ve insulted me by calling me a sadomasochist, you haven’t,” Draco said with a grin. “I love pet names. Call me something else.”

She hit his chest and said, “Let’s do this instead, you go collect our child, we tell our guests goodnight, and we go to whatever destination you have in mind for our honeymoon.” She stopped dancing and asked, “Wait, you probably had no intention of bringing Alice, did you?”

“Of course I did,” he said seriously. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s taken a real liking to the maid here, Michelle, and Michelle’s children are grown, so she has nothing to keep her here, and she’s coming along to watch her while you and I have some alone time.” They stopped dancing.

“Really? I mean, I would understand if you didn’t want to make our honeymoon a family affair,” she reiterated.

He took her hands in his, held her arms out straight, and said, “From this point on, everything we do is a family affair. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

A few other people dancing around them heard her proclamation and stopped dancing to stare at them. Draco stood, stock-still, mouth open, shocked. Soon, other people began to stop what they were doing, to look at the newly-weds.

People eating at their tables put down their knives and forks when they noticed the ‘inactivity’ on the dance floor. Others put down their wine glasses and champagne flutes. Ginny Weasley, holding her sleeping three-year-old son, Albus, stood up from her chair, and in the silence that ensued said, “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

“Hermione said something to upset Malfoy apparently, because he looks like he’s in shock. What did she say?” Ron asked Harry from across the room.

Harry shook his head and said, “Heaven help me if she said what I think she said.”

“What’s going on, Lucius?” Narcissa asked from the front table. “Why is everyone staring at Hermione and Draco? Did they make an announcement?”

“I’ll find out,” he told her. He pushed back his seat and started toward the center of the room. He reached for her hand and towed her along.

Hermione’s mother had already bent down to pick up Alice, who in the silence, had woken up. She rubbed her eyes and said, “Is the wedding over, Granny?”

“Something’s wrong, Bob,” she said to her husband, ignoring her granddaughter’s question. “Hermione said something to upset Draco. He looks angry. He’s probably going to leave her. Heaven help us all. Go up there closer and find out what she said.”

Hermione’s father was standing close by his ex-wife and said, “Draco doesn’t look angry, he looks like he’s about to faint.”

“Let me down!” Alice cried out, wiggling from her granny’s arms. She let the little girl down and Alice started to run to her parents, but there were so many adults standing around, that she couldn’t locate them. She began to weave in and out of the sea of gowns and black pants, the whole time, calling for her mummy.

“Draco, are you alright?” Hermione asked, aware of the crowd and the commotion around them.

He placed a hand up and took a step back, to silence her, oblivious to the crowd and hubbub around them. He swallowed hard. “What did you say to me?”

“Draco, let’s go somewhere private, and I’ll repeat it,” she pleaded.

“MUMMY!” a little girl cried out.

“Over here, Alice,” Hermione cried back, looking around her new husband to find her daughter. She glanced back toward him and repeated, “Draco, are you okay?”

“NO!” he shouted. The entire ballroom stood still, hushed, at his exclamation.

Draco didn’t even realize that he still had his hand out, and that he was still backing away from his new wife, until he backed into the large table at the front of the ballroom. The musicians stopped playing, the servers stopped serving, and all eyes were now upon them.

“MUMMY!” another scream.

“ALICE!” a shout returned by her mother. “Draco?” a quiet whisper to her new husband, “Please, let’s go somewhere to talk about this.” She shouldn’t have told him like this. She thought he would be happy, pleased, overjoyed. Why was he acting like this?

Lucius found his granddaughter wandering through the crowd, scooped Alice into his arms, walked up to his son, grabbed his arm with his other hand, and prompted him toward the double doors that led outside. He pushed him outside the doorway. He rushed back into the room, handed Alice to Narcissa and then he took Hermione’s hand.

“Go tell him again. He’s just in shock,” Lucius commanded. Before he pushed her outside he turned to her and asked, “First, are you certain?” He asked her these things in an almost hushed whisper, so that the crowd couldn’t hear.

Hermione nodded.

Lucius Malfoy did something he very rarely ever did. He smiled and pulled Hermione into his arms and hugged her. He then literally pushed her outside the doors and with his wand he sealed the door tight. He looked at the crowd and said, “The happy couple is heading toward their honeymoon a bit early and they wish to tell everyone thank you for coming to their wedding. You may all stay and have some more spirits and food, but if you don’t mind, Alice is tired, and my wife and I are going to see her to bed and then we are also going to retire as well. Goodnight.”

“What did Lucius say?” Ron asked, “And who the hell is his wife?”

Outside on the patio, Draco leaned against the low wall that looked out on the east side of the property. His back was to Hermione.

“Did you really not hear me in there?” she asked.

“I heard you,” he said, not turning around.

“Oh,” she muttered. She was afraid of that. He wasn’t happy about the news. Is this how he would have reacted if she had told him about Alice all those years ago? No, that would have been worse, wouldn’t it have? After all, at least now they were married. “I’m confused,” she said, and a bit angry, but she wouldn’t say that part right now. “You just claimed family was so important to you in there, and now you’re upset because I tell you I’m pregnant. Fine, be upset. Be a child. Act like a selfish git. You’re an immature, selfish, bastard, Draco Malfoy, and I won’t stay married to someone like you!”

She turned on her heel to walk away, but was spun back, surprisingly fast, when he rushed over to her, took her elbow, to turn her to face him. “My goodness, Granger, give a man a break! I mean, in the course of two months I became engaged, became a father, became married, and now I’m becoming a father again, so yes, colour me a bit surprised! Pleasantly so, but still, surprised!”

She was breathing hard, but she saw that he was smiling. “This is you acting surprised and shocked?” she asked.

“Well, yes, I suppose so. I don’t act shocked often, so I don’t know if I have a set pattern, but I suppose it is,” he answered. She wrenched her arm from his grip and she rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck.

He wrapped his hands around her waist and spun her around.

“You’re happy, then?” she asked. “I’ve been so afraid to tell you. I know it’s soon. You must have very strong sperm.”

He smiled. “Well, thank you for the compliment, and I’m sure I do,” he laughed. “You must be incredibly fertile, too, because we’ve only made love a few times since we’ve been here, much to my chagrin.”

“And almost every time outside,” she joked.

“Like now,” he came back with.

He pulled her against him, and just the feel, the touch, the smell, the thought of her body against his made him lose his mind and he was no longer in control of his actions. He began to rain small kisses all over her face, her hair, her cheeks and neck, even her shoulders and between her breasts. Between each small kiss he whispered words of love…”I love you,” and “You’re mine,” and even, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He stopped kissing her, framed her face with his hands, and took one final good look at the woman that was now his wife and he said, “A baby.”

He removed his hands from her cheeks and placed his arms around her waist again to lift her from the ground. He lifted her so far that he craned his head to look up at her, and she looked down at him.

She leaned down and kissed him with hunger and passion that had been inside her for a very long time. Her hands went in his hair and she began to laugh as she too rained wild kisses all around his face and hair. “A baby,” she finally repeated.

Only a few stars lighted the dark sky, and the rain, which had been held at bay all day, finally started to fall. Drops of rain, cool and sweet, could not put a damper on their heated passion. Instead, it mixed with their passion, mingled with their desire, and he swung her around again and cried out in joy. He walked a few steps down from an upper patio to a lower one, placed her feet on the ground, took off his jacket, placed it on the ground and then said, “It’s the best I can do on short notice.”

“You mean to consummate our marriage outside, on a flagstone patio, with nothing but your coat to lay upon, in the rain no less?” she asked.

He was thoughtful for a moment and then said, “Well…yes.”

“Just checking,” she said with a laugh. With one flick of her wand, which was in a hidden pocket of her gown, she placed a cushioning charm on his jacket and a shield charm around the patio. “Just in case,” she said.

He touched her bare shoulder with one fingertip, it drag slowly across her chest, up to her neck, around to her other shoulder, to the tiny little buttons of her gown. He stood behind her, leaned his chin on her shoulder and said, “How attached to this gown are you?”

“You will not ruin my wedding dress,” she countered.

“Damn,” he snapped.

He too had a wand, so he flicked it once and her gown completely fell at her feet. She turned to face him, her hands covering her chest and she said, “That was impressive.”

“Not really,” he admitted. “I vanquished all the buttons.”

Hermione frowned, looked at the gown on the ground, saw that it was missing every single button, and before she could complain he lowered her to his coat until they were both on their knees facing each other. He placed his hand on her shoulders, kissed her once more, and then he said, “I can’t believe we made another baby.”

Without preamble, they removed his upper clothing, his shirt, tie, robes, and then his shoes, and the rest of hers. He kept on his trousers, for now. He lowered her to her back and began to kiss her neck and breasts. He thought she was so beautiful, and still too good for him, but it was too bad, because now they would be together forever. He bit down on the place where her neck met her shoulder, and she sighed.

It was a good sigh.

He came back to her lips and licked her bottom lip, and then kissed her mouth again. Their lips fought for dominance, and he decided to give in and let her win this one, so he relaxed and let her kiss him for a while. He moved to his back and let her press against his chest.

Her hands were running up and down his chest, causing fiery need to route through his body. He moved so that he was again in control, lowered his lower body over hers, his thigh between her legs, the pressure sending astonishing waves of want to every blood vessel in her body. She seized his shoulders to beg him to persist.

He sat back up, and she got up on her knees and he placed a hand on one breast, started stroking it nonchalantly, back and forth, across her nipple, until it was erect, and aching with need. He put his other hand on her other breast, then bent down to take the erect nipple in his mouth, and sucked. She arched her back. Her hands went to his neck, pressing his head to urge him to continue.

She couldn’t stay on her knees so she fell awkwardly back on the ground and he came down on top of her. He stayed at her breasts, kissing, licking and nestling. He was so full of love for her and she was full of want, so much that her body tingled for his touch.

He kissed her stomach and crawled inside her legs. He picked up one leg and kissed the underside. He kissed her leg all the way up to the top of her thigh. He picked up the other leg, started kissing her on her foot, and then he kissed the knee, on up to the thigh.

He placed both legs back on the blanket and he entered her with a finger while he kissed the top of her cleft, deftly playing with her the way he thought she might like. She was breathing hard, suppressing a scream. He came back up her body and unzipped his trousers. He didn’t remove them all the way, because he didn’t have time. He pulled them down his hips and he entered her with a single, magnificent stroke. He was biting his bottom lip to keep from releasing too soon. He was determined to make this last, make this good, make this worthy of her. He was determined to make love to her, even if they were outside, on their wedding night, under a dark, cloudy sky, with big raindrops falling all around them.

They kissed again, and as they were kissing, she started to come to a climax. He waited and then he rolled over to his back and pulled her over on top. He could hold out a bit longer, but not by much.

With total shamelessness, Hermione Granger, now known as Malfoy, took over just as she did that night on the billiard’s table, she leaned back, with her arms behind her on his thighs. She was almost out of control. He rose up on his arms until he was sitting, so he could watch her. His arms were back behind him, quivering. He looked at her now, the embodiment of uninhibited passion, her thighs began to shake, her body spasms started and he realized it was time for him to let go.

He fell back against the ground and he screamed something terribly incoherent. She collapsed on his body and began to sob. He put his arms around her. Her legs were still straddling his hips; her chest was against his chest. His fingertips traveled up and down her back and he knew she was heaving, crying hard. It seemed as though she cried a lot lately but this was different and he knew it. His new wife was overwhelmed with emotion and climax, so he thought it was best to just let her cry.

He rolled over to his side, forcing her to hers. He took his hand and swept her hair away from her face and he kissed the tears and rain away. The rain, awash with her tears, was renewing their love, better than any marriage vows.

He pulled up his trousers, covered her in her dress, and continued to hold her tightly in his arms. He had so much he wanted to say to her, but words seemed so inadequate. He was never very good with words, anyway. Words meant little at a time like this.

He finally broke the silence when he said, “I hope you don’t mind, but can we have a boy this time?”

She rolled her eyes and said, “Whatever you want, Draco.”

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