Chapter Text
Hermione would be the first person to admit she was stubborn. It wasn't something she hid, in fact she was quite proud of how she took the reins of life and willed it to her command. There was nothing that could stop her from getting what she wanted.
She didn't use her tenacity for any dastardly plans, she knew was clever enough to dismantle and blackmail, but her bleeding heart had no interest in tearing down the wizarding world. Just yet, at least.
She was a simple witch, all she wanted was to use her influence to help vulnerable, underrepresented creatures. The door to her office opened and she spotted one more thing she desperately wanted: The tall man walking towards her.
Well, she also wouldn't say no to a large library full of books, spending time with her loved ones, and a good cup of tea, but she was rather spoiled now, so she allowed herself the extra indulgences.
She watched the wizard step inside, softly closing the door to her small office in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures behind him. As the latched clicked, the sounds of the ministry ceased.
She often kept her door closed, her office was far too close to the lift causing her to hear the constant chime of the doors opening and closing as well as the insistent announcement of the Magical Creatures' floor.
Draco Malfoy's toned body, white-blond hair, and steel eyes filled her workspace. His presence was a welcome additional, Hermione found that he often improved every room he walked into. She wouldn't outright tell him though, his ego was large enough.
He could probably read it on her face regardless.
His knife sharp eyes took inventory of her face and body. His usual protocol after they spent time apart to ensure she hadn't encountered something dangerous or life threatening while out of his sight.
If she had a hair out of place, he would have rushed over, soothed with his with soft words, and learned exactly what troubles she faced to make a single curly strand escape from her bun.
Draco had always been single-minded when it came to her but with his auror training and more dark experiences, he had quickly gained tools that made him take proper note of everything he saw. Especially when it came to her.
His attentions had a tendency of making her warm beneath the collar. When he locked onto her with his unrelenting eyes as she spread out naked against their sheets, the faintest touch of his fingertips could make her explode.
Even after all these years, he still had an effect on her.
He came around her desk and gave her a sweet kiss full of promise. He nipped on her bottom lip, signalling he'd seen her mind wander.
Hermione shivered.
"Darling," he trailed his thumb against her cheek as his expensive cologne filled her nose. She breathed in the scent with a greedy inhale.
His eyes traced over her face, as if he hadn't gotten a good enough look during his initial assessment. Hermione allowed his examination and nuzzled her cheek further into his palm. His hands were still aristocratically soft despite his rougher years and hard grips around his wand and broom.
Draco's face relaxed as she pressed further into his hand. He placed a kiss to her forehead, a reward for her sweet behaviour, and stepped away, his hand slowly drawing from her skin. He took a seat on the outside of her desk. The soft buttery leather moulded to his body as he lowered his weight.
The seats had once been cheap, ministry-issued visitor chairs but with how often Lord Malfoy visited his wife, he didn't allow the chair to stay. Not when he demanded the finer things in life, the very best of the best. Within her first month employed, even before they were married, he had personally replaced every item in her office with quality bespoke craftsmanship.
It had been his Yule gift to her the first year they lived together. Her gift to him had been a two-way journal she had charmed herself and an enthusiastic blowjob under their first Yule tree. They had spent that night under the twinkling lights making caressing promises to one another.
Draco let his body sink into the cushion, not once taking his gaze off her as he sat across from her. She saw his muscles slowly loosen, his highest defences slowly lowered. She was the only one to see him in his most relaxed state, wearing his biggest smiles.
She knew him incredibly well, and he knew her down to her soul. There wasn't anything she could do without him noticing, which is why it was foolish of her to blurt out the following question:
"Have I mentioned how lovely your eyes look in your new cloak?"
His eyebrows raised and his head titled just a touch. The silver eyes in question flickered across her face, reading her like a page of his favourite book. She paid him compliments and lathered him in her love but unprompted flattery, especially in her office, was rather unusual.
With a high structured collar adorned with a silver clasp at the throat, she wasn't wrong, the cloak was spectacular. The wool blend was dark charcoal but the threads and embroidery at the cuffs were woven in silver. It wasn't entirely DMLE approved but like her, Draco Malfoy often did what he wanted.
Especially if it resulted in him looking good, which in both of their opinions, he almost always did.
He tilted his head in the other direction, his eyes scanning her over, getting a read on her and working out what he missed. A couple of the short strands of his perfectly poised coif brushed against his forehead. He crossed his legs, resting his ankle on the knee of his custom-made dark trousers. The glossy dragonhide boots shone in the ministries sub par lighting.
Despite the polished appearance, Hermione noted a crease at the corner of his eyes and tension stiffening his shoulders. He usually only had that specific type of strain in his body if he were fighting off a legilimency and dark magic headache. His walls were lowered for her and she saw what he had hid from the others.
Her husband was worn out and tired and now she was confusing him.
She frowned at the lines of strain marring his perfect skin. The DMLE overworked him, taking advantage of his past experience as a dark wizard. The guilt he had from the war still dug in his heart, even after the years, and it often led him astray, pushing himself to the brink of his limits.
"Draco," she started. "I can get you a—"
He shook his head. "What do you need, darling?" His voice was crisp, interrupting her before she could offer him a platter of biscuits they often shared. His tone wasn't rude or mean, but it was laden with words only people who spent all day together for years spoke.
Not here, later.
Her husband would never be cruel to her. Not anymore. They had spent years worked through their rough history. It had started in eighth year, when they had both gone back to Hogwarts to finish their education. One, a willing volunteer, the other, a court-ordered attendee.
After month of civil niceties, he had found her tucked at the back of the library one evening, hiding amongst the stacks from curious younger students. He had stood in front of her, his face an alarming shade of white and had stuttered and choked through the most heartfelt apology she'd ever heard.
"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, Granger," his hands were clenched his fists, his voice shaking. "I don't even know how to properly thank you for what you did. T-The trial and—"
"Malfoy," she had interrupted.
His body had been hunched as he braced for a blow. His wand tucked away as if he would allow her to hex him without retaliation. There was a faint sheen of sweat across his brows.
"What is your topic for the charms essay?" She had asked instead, nodding to the chair in front of her, inviting him to sit. She summoned a packet of ginger nuts from her room and pushed the peace offering closer to him.
He didn't have any books or quills, he wasn't even wearing his cloak to ward off the cool October air. Still, he had pulled out a chair and sat with all poised grace. "Advanced Anti-Apparition," he had muttered, tentatively taking a biscuit.
"Me too!" Hermione beamed at him. "What angle are you taking with it?"
A crumb clung to his bottom lip as he told her in great detail about the research he was planning on searching for. She had found the little speck of Ginger Nut and his baritone voice captivating.
There had been some speed bumps, some learning curves, but as the weeks and months passed they developed a brilliant friendship that slowly blossomed into something romantic. Months of pining and subtle looks had finally erupted on the train back to King's Cross, the school year concluding.
She had grabbed the lapels of his cloak and planted a confident kiss on his lips with a smack. His eyes had been so wide she thought they would pop out of his head. It had taken him a moment to recover, but then he pulled her in until she straddled him, and kissed her back with more passion that she had ever experienced. He had tasted like sugared ginger and apple.
They spent the whole trip back making out, only pausing when the trolley stopped to ask if they needed a treat. Hermione had looked into his eyes, his pupils blown wide, and knew she already had something sweet on her hands.
In the cramped ministry issued office, Hermione scanned her husband's face, the scared boy now replaced with a handsome, responsible man. His voice was filled with as much patience as he could currently offer, which was very little. It didn't bode well for what she wanted from him.
"If you're sure?" she asked worried. She eyed the tight muscles in his body.
"Tell me," his tone was nonsensical so Hermione carried on with her plan. His protective streak was on a rise and it made his body even more taut. His mind was surely already racing to the worst case scenario and how to eliminate her imaginary enemies.
She placed her hands on her desk, hoping to look unassuming and innocent. The green sapphire of her wedding ring glittered in the low light as a subtle reminder of their commitment to one another.
She was one of the few people that he actually liked. If it had been up to him the only people invited to their wedding would have been her, his mother, and the elderly half-blind wizard marrying them.
When she had asked why elderly and half-blind were necessary, he had scowled and grunted something about not taking any changes with leering eyes.
In the end, they got married in the manor's gardens, the rose and foxglove blooms perfuming the ceremony. Professor Flitwick oversaw their soul bonding and they had nearly a hundred guests in attendance. It had been exactly what she wanted. Surrounded by love, sweet prosecco bubbles tickling her tongue, her new husband on her arm.
Draco always gave her what she wanted, and more, there was no need to be nervous.
He didn't like her hesitation. "Granger."
She sat up straighter. If he was "Granger-ing" her she would have to play a different approach. A softer approach that usually had him melting. It would involve a bit of subtle manipulation but it was for the greater good.
"I recently discovered a black market operation that's been dealing in creatures." she tangled her fingers together. She paused and met his eyes. Draco kept his eyes on he as he tilted his chin, prompting her to continue.
"On the outskirts of Knockturn, there have been reports of dark wizards exiting and entering a flat above an establishment called 'The Jolly Sword'. There's been constant activity and there's rumours of them trading all sorts of illegal creatures."
She took a deep breath, making sure to make her eyes wide and doe-like. "They're dealing dragon eggs and hatchlings, Draco. They're ripping kneazle kittens from their homes and forcing them into a horrid breading program. "
His brows furrowed but held his tongue. On any given day, he'd let her talk until her heart was content, making mental note of topics she found most egregious and prompting further information with the appropriate questions.
He was a good auror and an even better husband, which is why his eyes flickered down to her fidgeting hands. It wasn't the first time she had called him into her office to rant about ministry on-goings or frustrating bureaucratic red tape but she was never nervous doing so. She had a favour in mind and he could smell it a mile away.
"I want to dismantle their operations but Glenn won't let me—" she cut herself off, her nose wrinkling in offence by her own statement.
Nobody let Hermione do anything. She unapologetically took what she wanted. Draco's lip twitch as he caught the inaccurate remark.
She shook her head, hoping to dislodge any other silly thoughts and tried again. "— won't officially approve my involvement without an accompanied band of Creature staff, or a willing auror."
She feared to think of which collection of bumbling colleagues would be stomping through her discovering. She caught Ervin Fluke wrestling with a Daily Prophet owl only that morning and he was one of the more intelligent employees. If Ervin couldn't manage a postal owl, there was no way any of them would take the proper care and respect a black market operation required.
"Ah," Draco said, nodding. He uncrossed his legs. His boots made a soft thud against the wooden floor of her office. "I see."
He leaned in closer across her desk, his voice quiet. "What about our plan?"
Hermione warmed at his train of thought. The plan they had put in place after spending endless hours and resources gathering the best healers, looking for the safest way conceive.
Their plan to start a family. The plan that included countless trips to healers to test the lingering effects of war. The scars and hits they'd both taken had damaged something integral. Something vital that would make starting a family difficult if they weren't careful.
Every healer came back with the same advice. Reduce strong stressors and drink every prescribed potion as directed.
They had agreed to do their best to reduce workloads. If she did manage to get pregnant, Hermione would take an extended maternity leave, giving her almost two years to focus on their family. Once she was ready to go back to work, Draco would reduce his time at the DMLE and take over the majority of parental duties.
Draco, always the supportive husband and Slytherin at heart, was rather keen on his wife climbing the ministry ranks.
"There's hasn't been a Malfoy as Minister of Magic for several generations. I'll be good to remind the wizarding world how influential our name is." he had whispered in her ear. Their naked bodies tangled together in the luxurious high-count sheets.
The first day they took their heavily monitored fertility potions had been a frenzy of desire and lust. The potion vials were empty by the time they exited the manor's receiving parlour.
They had hardly made it up the stairs to their wing before they were ripping clothes off each other. The specialists had said it might take a while for things to catch but they were having fun discovering all sorts of creative positions in their efforts.
Two weeks had passed with endless vigor and enthusiasm.
"I'll be careful. You're the best auror I know," she went for his ego with a smile. "Leaps and bounds above the others."
He smirked. "I'll be sure to let Potter know you think he's incompetent."
Hermione scowled at him. That's not what she meant and he knew it, but she let it slide. She had more important things to focus on. She dropped the glare, and softened her face. Hermione's eyes widened, her smile beamed. If she fluttered her eyelashes and pushed her breast together, than she did what she had to.
"Please, Draco," she cooed.
Draco slammed his eyes shut. He gripped his head and his shoulders rose as if he needed an extra layer of protection against her attack. He muttered and grunted and signed.
Hermione had a soft spot for creature rights and fighting for the underdog, but her husband had a soft spot for her.
If he was annoyed with himself for falling for her tricks, he only had himself to blame. He wrapped a green and silver scarf around her neck and taught her to exploit all manners of weakness from those you wanted favours from. It was an important skill to have as a Malfoy and Hermione wasn't anything but thorough.
"I've put together a folder with all my notes and findings. I've even colour coded locations with the names of key informants. Everything you'd need. I won't lift a finger. I'll promise to listen and do exactly what you tell me."
Her assurance to follow his orders excited him but he kept his eyes firmly shut. Draco blindly held out his hand and curled his fingers in a 'give me' motion. Her cheeks went hot at the quick curl of his fingers, thinking of how they flex exactly like that in an entirely different setting.
Hermione bit her lip and pushed aside the thought before it could run away from her. It wasn't her fault, she was pumped full of hormones and fertility treatments and shagging her delectable husband at all hours sounded like a delicious idea. It would have to wait.
Think of the kneazles.
Hermione placed the folder it in his hand. He cracked open his eyes as he flipped through the thick folder. He thumbed through the sheets of parchment. He shuffled the notes, placed some sheets of parchment on her desk, others, with the flick of his wrist, floated up beside him.
He was organized and meticulous and it made Hermione wet. A flush spread across her chest and worked its way down to her pelvis. His nimble fingers dipped and flipped through her work. Seeing his hands and fingers move so deftly, the way he scanned each line with skilled perceptiveness, had her crossing her legs.
She might not be able to wait till after hours to get his cock inside her.
They sat in silence for a moment as he riffled through the folder. Hermione's heartbeat echoed inside her head. Draco spent the time getting his bearings of her project and she spent it daydreaming about his naked body.
She considered it productive for all parties involved.
He continued working through it until he froze. His eyes scanned over the page again and again, the contents seemly great interest to him. The parchment wrinkled in his tight grip.
His eyes shot up to her.
Hermione winched. She knew what he found.
"Was there something you wanted to tell me?" His teeth were clenched. His skin pulled taut against the sharp angles of his jaw.
In any other circumstance she would have sighed over the sight. He was alarmingly handsome and she liked looking at him. He made a pretty addition to the warm wood accents and dark jewel tones of her office with his silvery features.
It was clearly a rhetorical question but Hermione couldn't help but appease him once again.
She stalled. "Your barber did an excellent job yesterday."
He was unfazed by the compliment. He already knew how she felt about his hair, she had gripped the short strands between her fingers only this morning as he feasted between her thighs.
"Hermione," he said her name with a heavy weight.
She was horny for her husband but she was still the brightest witch of their age so she kept her mouth shut.
"This is an incredibly rough area of Knockturn. The whole area is a cease pit full of disease and mayhem. You think I'd be okay taking my wife here?" His protective streak was on high with the knowledge of their possible family.
She needed to get this done before she became pregnant or he'd be impossible to convince.
"You want to just waltz in between drunkards and blood magic for kneazle kittens?" he asked, his voice doing strange things and pitching to new heights.
"And dragon hatchlings," she added as if it would make things better.
"Of course. Can't forget the hatchlings," He deadpanned. "Does Wolpers know how dangerous this is?" He raised his hand. "Don't answer that, of course he doesn't."
Draco had heard plenty of complaints about her boss, Glenn Wolpers. The department head barely knew where his lunch was, let alone high status cases within the DMLE. He should have never gotten the position in the first place, but his uncle knew someone who knew someone.
Her next item on her list was taking over his job, but Draco could only handle one bomb at a time, so she kept that particular list to herself. For now.
"Draco," she sighed.
Her husband dropped the folder on her desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed before releasing his nose. His silver gaze trapped her. His eyes were ice cold and full of steel. "You'll do this even if I don't agree to help, won't you?"
"I could also ask Ron, but it'd make me very happy if you helped," she provided with a smile, moulding him where she wanted. She knew he'd hate that suggestion.
"Do not ask Weasley," Draco said between gritted teeth. He tilted his head back in defeat, knowing he was powerless. "These kneazles better be worth it."
Hermione smiled and got to her feet. She threw a locking and silencing charm to the door before letting her wand fall to her desk with a clatter. Her legs ate up the space between them as she he made her way to Draco.
"I'm glad that could be resolved," she climbed atop his lap and straddled his waist. Her eager fingers already unbuttoning his trousers.
He gripped her hips, his eyebrows soared. "Really? Here?"
"Yes, Draco, please fuck me. You deserve a reward for being such a good husband."
The strain around his eyes loosened as her very good husband did what he was told.