Chapter Text
“How did you do it?” Harry asked, spinning Hermione around as they danced under the glittering crystal chandelier in the Malfoy ballroom. “How did you get Lucius to cooperate and play the happy father-in-law and agree on terms and sign the marriage contract at last? I thought you were going to stay engaged to Draco forever.”
“It wasn't that long! Barely over a year. And I threatened him. Discreetly.”
Harry laughed. “Of course you did, you blackmailing fiend. What with?”
“The dire prospect of a bastard child, and Draco messily forced into an honourless wedding at wandpoint,” she whispered, leaning in close so he could hear in the hubbub of the ballroom full of dancing couples.
“Dear Merlin! Are you expecting? Congratulations!” Harry said, glancing at her flat stomach in her fantastically expensive cream wedding dress robes. There was really far too much silver embroidery and frilly lace on them for Hermione’s tastes, but Narcissa had cried about how she’d never had a daughter to fuss over, and Hermione had eventually caved to perhaps too many of her preferences about the wedding.
“No, it was just a line,” giggled Hermione. “I mean, it could happen. I didn’t say I was pregnant, I just pointed out that I could be. And I talked about how unreliable contraceptive charms are. They’re much less reliable than Muggle methods you know, but Lucius certainly doesn’t know anything about the latter being an option we use. He was desperate for me to stop talking by the end of our chat, as I explained in detail about how if his son didn’t marry me by the end of the year I would vow to raise his bastard Malfoy grandchild in the Muggle world.”
Harry tripped over his own feet, and had to clutch at her shoulder so he didn’t fall over, he was laughing so hard.
“You evil woman! People are photographing us!”
“It’ll be a great snap for the wedding album,” she laughed, catching the bright flash of a wizarding camera out of the corner of her eye.
“He must be quietly fuming!” Harry said with delight. “Or is he angrily shouting?” Harry got along a lot better with Draco these days, but still wasn’t at all fond of his father.
Hermione spun them back into a waltz and said, “Well, we all shouted at first, except Narcissa I suppose. I found the whole marriage contract thing horrifically patriarchal, but it was important to Draco to stick with wizarding traditions or apparently it wouldn’t feel like a ‘real’ wedding to him. Lucius has pretty much gotten over it now and is quietly fuming or grudgingly satisfied – it’s hard to tell the difference but Draco says he’s happier. I think he rather admired my cunning ruthlessness about it all, though he won’t admit it out loud. And I suppose he thinks half-blood grandchildren are better than no grandchildren, which was Draco’s preferred threat of choice.”
Harry sighed sadly, all his good humour dropping away in a heartbeat.
“Harry? Are you alright?”
“Ginny and I are getting a divorce,” Harry said, with resignation rather than sadness.
“Did something happen?” Hermione asked tentatively. “Did she… break her promise?” Surely she wouldn’t dose him with love potions again, after Harry had made the consequences for drugging him again without permission so very clear!
Harry let go of her waist to flick his hand twice at the two of them with a softly murmured incantation, and a faint background buzzing noise around them told her a Muffliato effect was now up. The media had infringed on Harry’s privacy so many times over the past few years that he’d learnt to master that spell as one of only a rare few he could cast without wielding a wand. She wasn’t at all surprised he cast it – only that it’d taken him so long to do so.
“What? No, it’s not what you’re probably thinking. No potions added to the cocoa,” he said rather quietly, despite the theoretical security of the anti-eavesdropping charm. “There were a few things, but the big one was that… she just couldn’t go through with IVF treatments. She didn’t realise what was involved, and when she did… well. It was too much for her. She refused. We talked about it a few times and she seemed on-board with it all initially, but she had this big hysterical breakdown eventually and admitted the whole process terrified her and she hated it. She just couldn’t do it.”
“You could adopt?” Hermione suggested. “I think you’d be a good father.” Harry smiled gratefully at her.
“We could. But that’s also something I can do on my own, without her.”
“I didn’t want to say it,” Hermione admitted embarrassedly.
“I know, and I appreciate your discretion,” Harry said, squeezing her hand in thanks. “And that you’re trying to be supportive of Ginny and I staying together, like I asked you to be. But it’s over, for sure. I just didn’t want to announce it before your wedding, and steal the media spotlight from the happy couple. You can relax – we’re definitely through.”
“Oh good,” she sighed happily. “I’m so relieved. That is… I’m sorry that I’m happy, and that it didn’t work out, but I think it’s for the best. But how are you feeling about it Harry? Are you okay?” Her sentences tumbled out rather awkwardly as she tried to hastily backtrack, but luckily he didn’t look offended, just reflective.
“I’m… alright. Sadder than I thought I’d be. I really wanted it to work.”
“I know. And you really tried.”
“She’s broken up about it. I feel especially bad about that. But apart from Ginny, Molly is the only one in the family who can’t understand why we’re separating. Everyone else gets it, to a greater or lesser degree. And Arthur keeps making Ginny cry, without meaning to, by getting distracted by the wonders of Muggle technology and asking prying questions about how IVF works, if you can believe it!” he finished with a laugh.
Hermione giggled at that. “Oh dear, I can just see it now!”
They whirled about the dance floor for a while longer, both lost in thought.
“It’s alright that you’re sitting with her for the reception, isn’t it?” Hermione asked at last, breaking the silence with her anxious question.
“Yes, it’s fine,” he said with a nod.
“And you’re happy?” Hermione asked quietly. “About being single again?”
Harry looked pensive as he twirled her around. “Not yet. But I think I might be eventually… boss.” He grinned as he said the last word, trying to lighten the mood with a joking change of topic.
“Heard the gossip did you?” Hermione said with a grin of her own.
“Susan told me. In total confidence. Along with telling half a dozen other people, reportedly.”
“She’s very excited for me, but the announcement was supposed to wait for when I’m back from my honeymoon,” Hermione said with rueful smile. “I don’t even know how she found out. I didn’t tell her! I promised Kingsley I’d keep it quiet.”
“Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement!” Harry said excitedly. “I’m so proud of you, Hermione.”
“Kingsley wants me to work on eradicating some of the more dreadful pro-pure-blood laws from the end of the war. And he says I’m the best suited for that, though I don’t think I know as much about the laws as many others do,” she said modestly.
“You will be amazing at it,” Harry promised. “Look how you pushed that new bill through about regulating poisons and other dangerous magical potions. You got over eighty percent approval for it! It’s practically unprecedented to get that kind of support from both the pure-blood old fogeys and the new blood.”
“Different arguments for different people,” she said with smug pride. “Draco helped me by going over my drafts. And Narcissa hosted more morning and afternoon tea parties than I ever thought I’d have to suffer through, but you’d be amazed how much you can accomplish chatting with relaxed people stuffed full of cake, compared to dragging them into formal meetings. She’s become quite the social butterfly these days.”
“Well I think you deserve the lion’s share of the credit – you did so well! The Muggle and Minor Protection Bill paved the way for this new one, and now you’ve got Amortentia almost totally banned – I’m so proud of you! Ron was angry, unfortunately, and George wasn’t too happy about it either,” said Harry. “But George understood in the end. He and R… he’s developed some much milder new potions since you’ve gotten the strongest love potions so heavily restricted. You know, I don’t mind that ‘Second Glance’ one that barely lasts a couple of minutes. It just makes the target pay attention to someone properly, it doesn’t even induce attraction at all.”
“Yes, I know, I heard all about the new range. Apart from official interactions, he wrote me a letter, you know. Apologising for selling love potions at a discount. He’s figured out…” she was speaking quietly already, but still she trailed off to listen for the telltale buzz that the Muffliato was still running, glancing around at the crowded ballroom of whirling couples who might overhear their chatter if it wasn’t. Draco was dancing with Pansy, and he gave her a slightly sappy look when he caught her eye, before the gap in the crowd disappeared and he was lost from sight. He was her husband now – she could hardly believe it. And she was Hermione Malfoy. Lucius had insisted very stubbornly on the surname change, but in exchange she’d locked in having the final say for any and all educational arrangements for any future little Malfoy children (may that day be far off still!), and a generous monthly stipend of “pin money” from the Malfoy vaults, for her personal expenses. Which if Narcissa had her way would probably be mostly spent on new clothes for the first few months of her marriage, at the very least.
“Yes. George and I had a chat about things not so long ago,” said Harry vaguely, with a meaningful look at her that she guessed was intended to hint that she should continue to keep mum about Ginny dosing him. She never had managed to change his mind about going public about that. But she was so very glad they were separating. It made her special day even more wonderful.
-000-
In between dinner and dessert, the happy couple circulated through the dining room from table to table, spending a few moments with each of their guests. Their respective parents and close friends had all been greeted first, so now they were mingling more generally.
“She’s beautiful,” Hermione cooed, rocking Fleur and Bill’s drowsy infant daughter gently in her arms. She wasn't a newborn anymore, but she was still rather tiny. “Hello Victoire! It’s nice to meet you. And I see you’re bucking the Weasley trend and going with blonde like your mummy.” She stroked Victoire’s head gently, the fuzz of blonde hair was incredibly soft, like kitten fur. Victoire let out a tiny yawn, and it was absolutely adorable to hear.
“And are you and Draco planning on starting a family soon?” asked Fleur, smiling as she took her baby back to tuck her into her blanket-lined bassinet to nap – a woven Moses basket that seemed to be a popular choice with pure-bloods for transporting their babies around in the world. Hermione had yet to see a single stroller in the wizarding world that wasn’t pushed by an obviously Muggle parent.
Hermione sighed gently with frustration. About a dozen people in a row had asked that question, and it was starting to wear on her nerves. She liked babies well enough, but had no urge to hurry up and have one of her own. She was tired of saying, “No, not yet” and having to justify her answer over and over. It was as if some people found the idea of a woman not wanting to have children right away personally insulting.
Draco gave her a quick glance, squeezed her hand supportively, and answered for them both. “Not quite yet – Hermione and I have decided to wait a while. We’d like to focus on our careers in the Ministry and in business for now.”
“Well, perhaps life will surprise you early,” Fleur said with a smile.
“And if that happens, we would be delighted to welcome a child into our lives,” Draco said diplomatically, before changing the subject. “I see Victoire has broken the Weasley trend of red hair, the little rebel!”
Bill laughed heartily at that. “The work of four generations of redheads ruined! But isn’t she adorable? Blonde just like her mother.”
“She is the sweetest baby I’ve ever seen!” agreed Hermione, wrapping her arm around Draco’s waist. He planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head, smiling that sappy smile he’d barely kept off his face for a minute all day as he gazed at her. “Is it due to her Veela ancestry, or just that cute little button nose, do you think?”
“The button nose,” Fleur said happily, her lingering soft French accent stumbling a little over the first word.
“Veela powers don’t manifest until the teenage years. We all love her just for being who she is,” Bill said, looking at Hermione rather intently. “Harry asked something a bit similar. And you know, I’m loving being a father.”
Hermione beamed at him as she realised what he was hinting at – he loved his daughter. Without any aid of Veela powers or potions, he loved her like a father should. She looked around for Harry, but couldn’t see him, though she saw Ginny chatting with a couple of friends at their assigned table. She guessed this would be their last outing as a theoretically happy couple, if their planned divorce was about to go public.
With a last wish for wedded bliss from the Weasleys, Hermione and Draco moved on to circulate with their other guests. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look?” Draco asked her.
“Maybe a dozen times today,” she laughed.
“I thought you should know. Just in case you had forgotten. You look absolutely stunning.”
“Have I mentioned how handsome you look?” she asked, running her hand along his smoothly shaven jawline.
“Not nearly often enough. I’m magnificent,” he said arrogantly, making them both laugh. “Ready to face the Greengrasses?”
“Let’s go.”
Daphne never had quite forgiven her for “stealing” Draco from her sister, and her congratulations were lukewarm and focused mostly on how “lucky” Hermione was. But Astoria herself was all politeness on the surface, but with a tinge of cattiness. Of course, she was well positioned to be content, as she’d made a match of her own.
“Ernest and I are so very happy for you,” she said, resting her bejewelled hand on her husband’s where it lay atop the linen-covered table. “It was such a long engagement some people were wondering if you’d ever marry! Why, Ernest and I were engaged after you, but married first! Still, all good things come to those who wait, don’t they?”
“Well, I couldn’t wait to marry you, my darling,” Ernie said with a happy smile at his wife. “And my parents were thrilled to welcome you to the Macmillan family. And I’m so glad you two got married – what a wonderful thing. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”
“And are you planning on having children soon?” Hermione asked, but Astoria didn’t take it as a dig at all.
“Oh yes! We’ve even picked out names. Scorpius if it’s a boy,” she said, with a smug glance at Draco, “and Morea if it’s a girl.”
After they’d left the table, Draco muttered crossly, “That was our name. I picked that name.”
Hermione glanced at him anxiously. “Are you alright?”
He let out a huff of breath and let his shoulders relax. “I’m fine. She’s just trying to get to me, but I won’t let her.”
“It seems a little petty.”
“She could be, sometimes. She argued a fair bit with father and mother, over things both large and small. But some of her arguments you would’ve approved of – she is actually in favour of a lot of liberal, pro-Muggle-born initiatives. And anyway, I suppose I deserve a little pettiness.”
“But you’re happy?”
He swept her into his arms to dip her for a passionate kiss, to the applause of a few at the nearby tables. Narcissa dabbed some happy tears from her eyes as she watched them (her lace-edged hanky had made regular reappearances all evening), chatting contentedly with her sister Andromeda while she juggled young Teddy on her knees, who was insistent about staying awake all night to enjoy all the fun.
After a moment, Draco let his wife up, laughing and breathless, “Never doubt it. You are the only woman for me, and always will be. We balance each other perfectly.”