RP: Possession is 9/10s of the law.

[pb_draco]

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger (with Crookshanks, Osiris, Lucifer, Fleck, and Cookoo all kibbitzing.)
Location: Granger-Malfoy flat of shouting and boxes
Date: 16 May 2000
Status/Warning: Private/Language (It's Malfoy doing manual labor, what sort of language would you expect?)
Summary: Moving day
Completion: Complete

Comments

[pb_draco]

Draco blinked and attempted to look totally confused over what she was saying. It was too difficult and he gave up. It was not only familiar to him, but painfully familiar. First he'd avoided what seemed to be a traditional Malfoy career of politics in favor of a trade, and a poor-and-needy oriented one at that. Even though he planned to focus on a specific practice that wouldn't be available to too much of the impoverished masses, it was still Healing. Next, his relationship. Madly in love with the wrong sort of woman, with a lot of shouting. No threats, though. Just a stinging disappointment and the knowledge that he'd betrayed his entire bloodline. He rubbed the back of Hermione's neck and sighed silently, pushing those thoughts away. "It's a very lovely dress. Doesn't look at all like a meringue puffball. Is that the sort of dress you'd want? Something simple like that?"

He gave a quiet laugh. "Sweetheart, our sons are going to be blond and pointy. There's no getting around that. The Malfoy men all look exactly alike and have for generations." Draco took a long sip of his coffee and raised an eyebrow at the photo of a pregnant Mrs Granger. "She is beautiful. You have her eyes, you know. Completely gorgeous, I have to say. I expect you'll look twice as lovely when you're in that state."

[pb_hermione]

Hermione shook her head. "I like the dress but it isn't what I'd pick for myself. The lace was too scratchy," Hermione explained. "I considered keeping it for sentimental value but settled on Mum's red evening gown instead because I could wear it. You haven't seen that one yet," she explained. "I do want something simple but I don't want anything scratchy," she made a face. Scratchy things were ghastly to wear. She much preferred soft, natural fabrics. "I'll pick the dress and you can pick my boots for underneath as long as they're comfortable."

"I've come to like blond and pointy. You're really a very attractive man, Malfoy. I won't be at all upset to end with four blonds." She turned the page. "This is my first photograph. Most Muggles have their babies in the hospital," she told him. Hermione had a crown of dark fuzz and huge eyes.

[pb_draco]

"I'm with you there. I prefer to avoid scratchy clothes whenever possible. The only scratching I want is from you." He tried not to think about her giving him a few of those scratches on their wedding night, under him with nothing on but a smile and a pair of white boots. Failing at not thinking, he held onto the image for later and shivered.

"Nah, I'm not that attractive. Got a face like a rodent who ran through a glass window and far too skinny besides. You're the cute one in this couple. I'm not ... noteworthy." He smiled at the picture she turned to as he set his coffee down. Careful not to actually touch the picture, he hovered his fingers over it to outline the curve of her chin. "Definitely you. Born with hair, hmm? That explains a lot. Dunno about giving birth in hospital, though. All those germs and sick people running around. I think home's safer."

[pb_hermione]

Hermione laughed. "You know if I told any of my friends you said that, they'd never believe me. You act so vain. You are too thin, but I'll be around now and we can remind each other to eat." She tried to remember to eat regularly but when she was caught up with her studies she sometimes forgot. "I need to research it fully but I don't see anything wrong with giving birth at home with a qualified midwife. Much more convenient, I'd think. You can walk around and let gravity do its bit. All your things are there if you want something. The baby won't have to be brought home because he or she is already there. It sounds ideal to me as long as there aren't any complications."

She took him through more pages of baby pictures, including the one of her lying on blanket with her naked baby bottom exposed. "My first nude," she chuckled. "Oh! And this one is Daddy's favorite. He used to keep a copy of it on his desk." It was a picture of her about a year old holding a lemon wedge and making a horrible face. "I got into the tea things and grabbed for the lemon and had it in my mouth before they could stop me. Daddy ran for the camera and took this picture."

[pb_draco]

Draco grinned and ran his fingers through his hair. "I am vain, Granger. If I wasn't vain, I wouldn't put so much effort into my hair or that concealing charm I use. But I'm also very well aware of reality. I look like a-a-a, well, like a ferret. I can admit that." He nuzzled into the side of her neck and grinned. "But if anyone else says it, I fully expect you to defend me."

Nodding, he picked up his coffee again. "That's rather the way I see it. None of the worries about whether you brought the blanket you wanted or your favorite shirt, that sort of thing. You don't have to concern yourself with anyone but yourself and the baby, and you're more comfortable at home, instead of some room full of strange things and strange people."

He grinned and snickered at her baby picture. "How about that. Even then you had nice legs." The lemon picture made him laugh out loud and he tipped his head back into the sofa. "Oh god, I think I have one of those somewhere. Oddly enough, even that young, you couldn't tell me what to do. 'Don't eat the lemons, Draco'. Well, that's just a challenge."

[pb_hermione]

"I would like to see your pictures too. They're probably much more entertaining considering they move. Oh! My second Halloween. Chubby little pumpkin." All of her Halloween pictures were together. "I sent you a copy of my pirate costume. I wore that one for months after the holiday to pretend. I like this one too," she pointed to one of her at seven in a knight's costume holding up a fake sword. "Gryffindor practice," she said. "I was a princess the year before that but it was boring because the boys all had swords and I wanted one too. I liked the fairy costume though. The wings were a favorite. I wore those for a long time afterward too."

Hermione encouraged him to eat a little more while she showed him other photos. It took awhile but they finally made their way to her Hogwarts years where she started to have wizarding photos included. There was a photo of Harry and Hermione with the Weasleys at the World Cup in the top box. "Look, there you are," she showed him where his face occasionally peeked into view on the edge of the frame, then ducked back again.

[pb_draco]

"I'll ask Mum, then. Should have plenty of things to look at up to about five years ago. But you've already seen the evidence of my green hair incident, which, by the way, I still haven't made you suffer for sufficiently since you gave a copy to Lovegood." He eyed her with a mock-stern look, then nestled down again to admire the costumes. "That pirate was the cutest thing, but these wings are just as adorable. We should add your May Queen dress to this, but that's not Hallowe'en, come to think of it. That's special."

He polished off most of the crackers and cheese with another cup of coffee, and he felt quite comfortable by the time she pointed out the World Cup photo. Draco put a lot of effort into not noticing that every time he popped into frame, he was very much not looking at Potter or any of the Weasleys. He did notice that just before he disappeared each time, he looked over his shoulder briefly. He remembered checking to make sure his parents weren't watching him too closely. They hadn't been paying much attention to him during the match, and definitely hadn't been paying much attention afterwards. Not enough to keep him from wandering off into the woods and accidentally-on-purpose giving a warning to a particular young lady. "Did you have fun during the match?" he asked. "Who were you cheering for? Ireland along with the rest of your sidekicks?"

[pb_hermione]

Hermione had been surprised when he didn't laugh at her little librarian costume with the pencil skirt, cardigan and horn-rimmed glasses, until she realized that a wizard wouldn't have that stereotypical image in his head. Her May Queen and dancing girl costumes were both special now but she wasn't adding the May Queen to her family album.

She nodded, "I really enjoyed it. I always like watching Quidditch. I don't understand all the rules or care about the statistics and things but actually watching people play is great fun. Especially when they're obviously very skilled players like at the World Cup." He asked which team she supported and Hermione shrugged, "I had no idea who any of the players were and I didn't have the foggiest idea which team to choose. I was there to see the match. Well, I was until the veela came out. They... they made Ron and Harry mental. I thought they were going to leap out of the top box." Hermione turned and looked at him closely. "Come to think of it, why wasn't I keeping you from taking a great leap as well? Were your parents holding you in your seat?" She could imagine Mr. Malfoy holding one end of his cane, and Mrs. Malfoy the other, to pin their son in place between them and prevent him from making a great fool of himself.

"After the veela, I was for Ireland on principle. Their Chasers were absolutely brilliant, but I've said that before," they'd already talked about the match itself. "Viktor's an amazing Seeker, though." She admired his skill and his bravery. Her friend was no slouch as a wizard either. "I certainly wouldn't mind attending a playoff match if we could get tickets." She thought both England and Ireland were yet to be eliminated. "If you'd like, I could see if Viktor could get us in to Bulgaria's next game." He'd made the offer every summer, but Hermione hadn't had enough time at first, or enough money later, to afford to make a trip.

[pb_draco]

Draco shrugged one shoulder and concentrated on his coffee. "Never been attracted to blondes? Dunno, Granger." He had a decent idea of why he hadn't really reacted to the Veela women. Partially he'd been too busy laughing himself sick at the responses of the other boys his age, partially because he knew what Vella could be like in their true forms. Mostly, though, because as far as he was concerned, they weren't even human. It was like being attracted to a centaur or a mermaid. Not human, bit on the disgusting side.

Of course, to his ancestors, the woman sitting beside him wasn't much of a human either. Draco squeezed her shoulders and nodded at her suggestion, eyes focused on the photo album to hide his thoughts. "Wouldn't mind that at all. I enjoy watching professionals play."

[pb_hermione]

"I would've thought blond attraction to be practically a genetic imperative for a Malfoy, much like blood, to keep the heirs pale and pure." Hermione snuggled into him and pushed the album over fully onto his lap. "You know everyone in the pictures that are left. There are lots of me being bossy and lecturing, which should amuse you. Colin seemed to have had a knack for capturing me full rant." She was just going to relax against him and let her food settle while he finished. Malfoy was so nice and warm. Hermione decided to close her eyes for a moment too. It had been a busy morning with her usual jog, packing the last of her things at Harry's, then unpacking here. It was nice to rest on his shoulder and simply be.

[pb_draco]

He gave a delicate shudder and laughed quietly. "Nah. Too much like dating my mother. I like brunettes. Woman turns my head, she's going to be dark-haired. Pansy, you. Don't have to worry about keeping the heirs pure anymore, that's for certain. I'll let some dark hair breed into the line, along with some utter, utter brilliance."

He finished his coffee and pushed the cup away, then shifted to let Hermione nestle in against his side. He enjoyed it when she did that. The feel of her weight against him, her head on his shoulder - it made him happy. He cradled her close as he went through the photo album, and by the time he closed the book up, her eyes were closed and her breathing had smoothed out. Draco smiled and tipped his head to rest his cheek against her hair. Very quietly, just barely audible, he whispered to her. "I love you, Hermione. I was wrong as a child. Thank you for proving that."