Unforgettable Season- Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, they are the property of J.K. Rowling.

***

“You ready?” Rose asked tersely.

“Yes,” Draco nodded curtly.

“Let’s go then,” she said, stepping into the fireplace. Draco followed suit and grabbed a handful of floo powder.

“Malfoy Manor,” he stated clearly, throwing the powder down and disappearing in a burst of green flames.

“Rose, Draco! So nice of you to finally join us,” Nott said snidely as they took their places in the circle. Rose sat in a large plush armchair directly to Nott’s left, whereas Draco sat two seats away from being his direct right-hand man. “Now that we’ve all arrived, we can really begin.

“As you all know, we have been discussing the possibility of taking some action against our cause. Since the unfortunate demise of the Dark Lord, an increasing number of pure-blood wizards have been becoming involved with the scum that are muggle-borns. As a result of this, the pure-blood wizarding lines are dying out, and quickly. As each day passes, more and more wizards are getting married to muggle-borns and having children. This must be stopped!” Nott’s voice rang out clearly throughout the large room. The other members of The Revival listened in intent silence. “We must take action,” he continued, his voice lower, captivating the few members who dared not pay attention.

“We have a few very useful members who can leak us information from within the Ministry, and the Department of Mysteries no less,” Nott said, nodding his head towards Draco who nodded back solemnly. “And let us not forget my darling Rose, who can give us any information revealed to her by Potter,” he smiled fondly at Rose, though he had spat out Harry’s name as though it were dirt. “With all the information we can receive, it should not be difficult for us to perform a partial takeover. Even though there has been increased security since the end of the second war, these precautions have begun to fade away, and soon, I am sure, security levels will return to normal.

“I do not want us to run in blind! No matter how much you want to go in and infiltrate the ministry, follow my advice and only do so once we have enough information and we have planned out! This will, even with our best efforts, take the best of another year,” the group groaned, “but we will get there, and we will be victorious!”

At his last words the room erupted into loud cheers, and Nott looked over the gathering with an air of superiority, smiling smugly. Draco leant back in his chair, grinning, but at the same time worry was niggling at the back of his mind. He watched as Nott leant over and kissed Rose’s cheek, and she smiled tenderly up at him. Draco noticed the look in Rose’s eyes; it was real feeling for him, real love. Sensing an impending complication, he cleared his throat loudly over the group who had now broken off into smaller circles, no doubt discussing Nott’s plans.

“If that is everything, Nott, I should probably be getting home,” he said once everyone had quieted enough for Nott to hear him.

“Back to the mudblood?” Nott sneered, attracting the attention of the rest of the group who jeered.

“Yes, back to the mudblood. I must keep up appearances,” Draco said smugly, and Nott smirked.

“Indeed you must, Draco. Appearances are everything in your position. With that, you may leave and go back to your…wife,” he finished, grimacing as the last word rolled off his tongue. “The rest of you are free to leave whenever you wish to do so. Until next time, Draco.”

Nodding once more towards Nott and casting another glance at Rose who had gone back to keeping her cool exterior, Draco decided to apparate away, rather than alert The Revival to his address. He stepped outside and shivered in the cool air as he looked at the old courtyard, now overgrown from the years gone by without tending. As he surveyed the area, he heard the old front door creak open and quiet footsteps approaching him.

“Draco,” said a heavy voice, and Draco turned his head slightly to see Goyle approaching.

“Long time no see, friend,” Draco said coolly, returning his gaze to the weeds which plagued his mother’s once prized flower garden.

“Friend?” Goyle mused. “I hardly think we can be considered friends.”

“But why not? Time should not come between us.”

“It isn’t time that came between us. You’re not faking your love for Granger,” Goyle pointed out, and shock flitted across Draco’s face. When they had been ins school, Goyle had hardly been able to string two intelligible words together, but now he was perceptive, more so than anyone else at the meetings.

“Well, aren’t you the observant one now, Goyle,” Draco drawled.

“Don’t belittle me, Malfoy,” Goyle grunted.

“Even if you think that I’m not faking my love for the mudblood, you’re wrong. You don’t know anything about me, just as I don’t know anything about you. You’ve changed. Grown,” Draco noted.

“Living on the run for five years does that to you. I should tell Nott that you’re faking it,” Goyle reverted back to the original subject, and Draco scowled into the darkness.

“Even if he did believe the lies you’re spouting from your warped perceptions, once he heard my side of the story he would believe me. You aren’t the most reliable of sources, Goyle,” Draco snapped. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to leave.”

“Fine. See you around, friend,” Goyle retorted as Draco turned on the spot, disappearing with a loud crack into the darkness.

***

“Harry, can I talk to you for a minute,” Draco murmured hurridily, tugging on Harry’s arm as the swarms of Ministry workers made their way to their offices for a new week at work. Two weeks had elapsed since the meeting where Goyle had voiced his suspicions, but Draco had not been given a chance to talk to Harry in private.

“Sure, but can we make it quick? I need to be in Kingsley’s office in ten minutes,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. Draco noticed how tired he looked, and he didn’t think it was just because of the baby. Harry had been working very long hours to try and keep on top of all his work, and all of this on top of a new baby at home was just wearing him out.

“No problem,” Draco started. “I think that someone may have leaked some information about the case.”

“Why would you say that?” Harry asked sharply, pulling Draco further away from the crowd of workers in case one of them decided to eavesdrop.

“Goyle talked to me at the meeting two weeks ago. He told me he knew I wasn’t faking my love for Hermione, and he said he could tell. Goyle isn’t exactly the brightest, or at least he wasn’t at school, and even if he’s changed I don’t think he would pick up on that. I mean, none of the other group members have, so why would he?” Draco explained, worry creeping into his voice.

“Who do you think would and could have said anything?” Harry asked, looking at Draco intently.

“I don’t know. But I just thought you should know that I think someone may have leaked some information.”

“Thanks for that, mate. I’ll see if I can look into it myself,” Harry said, giving Draco a reassuring smile. “Shit, I’ve got to go. Keep me updated.”

“Not a problem,” Draco said as Harry turned and hurried away. Sighing to himself, Draco managed to squeeze into a lift and get to his office for another long day.

***

“Do we have to go to The Burrow on Christmas Eve?” Draco sighed as he sat across from Hermione at the dining table as they ate their dinner, three days before Christmas Eve. Draco was on holidays, as was Hermione, and they had been relishing the time that they had been able to spend together without the constant interruptions of work.

“I already told Molly we would be there, but I also told her that we’re spending Christmas day together, just the two of us, so we won’t be there for lunch. Come on, be a good sport,” Hermione coaxed him, and he frowned.

“I suppose. It’s just Weasley family gatherings are always so loud, and they never seem to end. I take it the whole brood will be there?” Draco asked, and Hermione nodded.

“Without a doubt. George and Angelina will be bringing Fred, Bill and Fleur have Victoire, Harry and Ginny are bringing James, and Percy and Penelope are coming as well. Molly told me that Charlie was coming back from Romania as well. Oh, and Ron will be bringing Susan, I suppose. Of course, Teddy will be there too,” Hermione counted off the people on her fingers, ignoring Draco’s grimace.

“So there will be eighteen of us there? Are you kidding me?”

“No, there’s going to be nineteen of us. I forgot little Molly,” Hermione said after a moment of thinking, remembering the child Percy and Penelope had together.

“Great, even better,” Draco groaned.

“It’ll be fine. And it will be just the two of us here on Christmas Day,” Hermione smiled at him, standing up from the table and waving her wand so the empty dishes flew to the sink and began washing themselves.

“Well then,” Draco murmured, following her lead by standing before pulling her body to his, “we better make the most of it all.” He slowly kissed his way up her neck, feeling her body relax and turn to jelly in his arms.

“I think we should,” she whispered, tilting her head upwards to catch his lips in a kiss. No matter how many kisses they had shared since they had gotten together, Hermione was always reminded of the first kiss they shared that night so many years back during the Masquerade Ball of their seventh year. There was still that spark and that impenetrable warmth which filled their bodies whenever their lips touched, even if it was only for the tiniest of moments. She moved her arms so they circled around his neck, and she tangled her hands in his blonde hair, pulling him closer to her.

“We really should take advantage of this,” he breathed between kisses, “but let’s just hold out until Christmas day.” He pulled back from the kiss, but didn’t untangle himself from her grasp. She let out an annoyed groan.

“But why?” she complained, resting her head on his shoulder when she realized he wouldn’t give into her methods of seducing him.

“Because, love, then it can be like another Christmas present,” he smirked, and she pouted, but removed her hands from his hair anyway.

“You’re so mean,” she said, and he laughed, pulling her flush against his body and kissing the top of her head.

“Maybe, but you still love me.”

“At least, that’s what I tell you. I’m just in it for the sex,” she winked, and he laughed again.

“You’re unbelievable, my little wife.”

“I’m not that little! You’re just a giant,” she poked her tongue out at him, and he grinned, shaking his head.

“No, I’m quite sure you’re tiny,” Draco grinned, and he scooped her up like she was a doll. “See, if you were a normal size then I wouldn’t be able to pick you up like this.”

“Put me down!” she squealed, but Draco just shook his head.

“Not a chance, love,” he said, loving how she could make him act like such a carefree teenager just by being there. He adjusted her so she was cradled in his arms, and all foolishness flew out the window as she rested her head against his chest, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. Carrying her like she was made of glass, Draco sat on one of the large armchairs in the corner, seating her in his lap. “I can’t even put into words how amazing you are to me,” he murmured.

“You don’t have to say a word,” she replied, leaning into his embrace.

***

“Draco, Hermione! It’s wonderful to see you!” Molly cried out happily. “You’re the last ones to arrive, so come in, come in!”

It was late afternoon, and the sky was a light grey, threatening snowfall. As soon as Hermione and Draco stepped into The Burrow, they were assaulted by several things. The first of these was the intoxicating aromas which came from the kitchen. The second was how amazing the house looked, with Christmas decorations strewn everywhere.

The third thing was a small girl with rippling blonde hair tackling Hermione’s legs, and a boy with flaming red hair latching onto Draco’s. Hermione bent down and scooped up Victoire into her arms, and Draco did the same with Fred, but Hermione noticed his mild hesitation before doing so.

“Hermy, Hermy, Hermy, Hermy!” Victoire chanted over and over again, latching onto Hermione tightly whilst Hermione held the child with a slightly bemused expression.

“Draco!” Fred cried out happily as Draco picked him up, and the boy grinned up at him.

“Hey, Victoire. Where are your mum and dad?” Hermione cooed, planting a tiny kiss on Victoire’s forehead.

“Kitchen!” Victoire said, smiling broadly.

“Then why don’t we go and find them!” Hermione said enthusiastically, leading the way for Draco towards the kitchen.

“Come on, Fred, let’s go and find your mummy and daddy,” Draco smiled, restraining a grimace as Fred nodded whilst placing a rather sticky hand on his chest.

“Look who we found!” Hermione cried out as they got to the kitchen where all the adults were standing around the table, drinks in hand, chatting happily.

“Yay!” Victoire cried out as Bill accepted the little girl from Hermione, and Fred struggled in Draco’s arms until he put the boy down, at which point he ran to Angelina who smiled tenderly at her son.

Hermione and Draco greeted everyone, and Draco accepted a bottle of butterbeer whilst Hermione passed on it, having still not broken the news of her pregnancy to the majority of the group, instead accepting some pumpkin juice. They all engaged in easy chatter for an hour or so, until Molly told them all to sit down at the long table. With the large number of people, the room was rather cramped, but they all managed to fit in.

“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Arthur said cheerfully, standing at the head of the table and looking over the large group. After these words they all dug into the food which had been lain out across the table, all enjoying Molly’s incredible cooking. Silence filled the kitchen as the large group ate, everyone enjoying the dinner far too much to talk.

George was the first to finish, and he leant back in his chair resting his hands on his stomach. “So, Hermione, do you have any interesting news to share with us?” he smirked, and she would have scowled had her mouth not been full of roast potato.

“Wow, thanks for that, George,” she managed to choke out after swallowing the large mouthful quickly. George’s comment had now attracted the interest of the rest of the people at the table, who were now staring intently at Hermione. “Well, um, I’m pregnant.”

The table erupted into loud congratulations, shrieks from the women who had not yet found out, confusion from the children, and embarrassment from Hermione. She flushed a brilliant red and looked around the table to see people from all directions smiling at her, except for Ron whose face was still one of immense shock. Following her gaze, Draco saw her looking at Ron, and despite the fact that their grudge had been settled long ago, he still felt a pang of jealousy through him.

Draco squeezed her hand softly, and she turned to look at him, still embarrassed but smiling lightly. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers gently, and she pushed against his with a bit more force. Somewhere around them, he heard George wolf-whistling and he smiled into the kiss before breaking it off before it started to become uncomfortable for the other guests. Hermione grinned at Draco, her embarrassment long gone, before turning and smiling at the other guests.

“Congratulations!” Molly beamed. “That’s fantastic, you two!”

“I think some drinks are in order,” Bill grinned, standing up from the table and heading over to pull out a bottle of elf-made wine and some butterbeer, levitating glasses full of liquid to the people around the table, minus Hermione who accepted some more pumpkin juice. Everyone approached Hermione and Draco with their congratulations with the exception of Ron. Even Susan approached them, offering a shy but happy comment about the pregnancy.

As the night wore on, Hermione noticed Ron slip outside by himself, leaving Susan in a conversation with Fleur. Draco was immersed in talk with Harry, Bill and George about Quidditch, so she excused herself and followed Ron, shivering as the cold winter wind blew around her. She wrapped her coat tighter and approached her friend cautiously.

“Hey, ‘Mione,” he murmured at her approach, not noticing her cringe at the use of the nickname.

“Hi. What are you doing out here?” she asked, avoiding his gaze and instead becoming interested in the stars.

“I just need a breath of fresh air. It’s really crowded in there, you know.”

“I noticed.”

They stood in awkward silence for a few minutes, before Hermione decided she was getting too cold and decided to head in.

“Are you still happy with him?” Ron asked once she had turned and was approaching the back door.

“What?”

“During our last year of Hogwarts, I asked if you were happy with him, and you said that you were happier than you had ever been. But I also remember you telling me once that you didn’t want to be married young, and you didn’t want to start a family when you were young. So tell me this: now that you’re twenty-two, married and pregnant, are you still happy with Malfoy?” Ron’s voice was bitter, betraying the cool mask of his face.

“Of course I’m still happy with him, Ron. Just because my life didn’t go exactly the way I had originally planned for it to go doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be happy. I don’t know what you want from me,” she sighed, shaking her head before turning away from him once again and entering the warmth of The Burrow, making her way to Draco who was sitting on a couch looking tired. She sat down beside him and cuddled up to his chest. “Do you want to go home?” she mumbled.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he grinned. “Shall we?”

“Most definitely. Let me just say goodbye to Molly and Arthur, and then we’ll apparate home.”

Draco nodded and bade farewell to a few people before waiting for Hermione by the front door. She pulled him outside into the chilly air and tightened her grip on his hand before they both disappeared with a loud crack.

***