A/N- Takes place a few months after part 1 of Choices. But again, reading that story is not necessary. We've seen Hermione pull through her grief, this is how Draco does the same. Just a cute little oneshot.
Disclaimer: I make no money from this fic and I do not own these characters.
The sound of someone ringing their doorbell had Hermione sitting up in bed. Two strong arms pulled her back down. She turned her head to gaze at her husband, "Draco I have to get the door."
"I don't want anyone seeing what's mine," he frowned. "I'll get it," he kissed her bare shoulder and exited the bed, putting on his pants and slipping into his button-down shirt he'd been wearing before they'd fallen into bed together for a mid-afternoon romp.
Ever since the miscarriage, Draco had begun taking time out of his day every so often to come home and make love to his wife. Always during one of her stretches where she didn't go into the office, which usually meant she was writing. Draco swore it was to give her inspiration but Hermione was firmly of the belief that since learning how Lucius had found her that fateful day Draco was terrified of seeing the same scene one day and shagging her was a way to remind himself that she was alive and okay and happy. It was also, she thought, his way of trying to make up for not being there despite her not blaming him in the slightest for what had happened.
Draco opened the front door, "Yes?"
"Package for Mrs. Malfoy," the delivery wizard said.
"I'll take it," Draco said, signing the slip and watching it vanish, verifying he was who he said he was. The wizard handed him the medium sized box and said goodbye, Draco closing the door to the manor before walking back up to the bedroom. "It's a box from your publisher," he informed her, having found the shipping label.
Hermione lit up, "Brilliant! Oh they said it would be ready soon," she sat up and Draco placed the box on the bed, sitting down behind her as she opened it. Inside were copies of her most recently published book, Extraordinary Persuasion. He picked one up and gazed at the cover. There was a nude woman, her back to the viewer, standing in front of a man, who was dressed in a tuxedo, the bowtie undone and hanging around the opened collar, and seated on the edge of a bed. Behind the woman's back and in clear view of the reader she held a dagger.
It was Hermione's first spy novel. Draco had read the whole book already; she always insisted he read her work and when it came to the sex scenes, Draco could proudly state he'd had a hand in each one she'd written. The roleplay they'd perform just for Hermione to be able to watch the scene via pensieve and transcribe it…Draco got hard just thinking about it. "What do you think?" She asked him.
"It looks good," he smiled. "Let's see what the press has to say about it shall we?" Draco flipped it over to read the press blurbs from pre-release copies the publisher had sent to a few magazines and newspapers. "Granger's first spy novel grips you the minute you read the first sentence and doesn't let go until the end of the story- WWN," Draco smirked, "that's true." He looked at the next blurb, "Granger seduces the reader as easily as Emma seduces her marks. It's impossible to put down!- Witch Weekly," Draco let his free hand roam his wife's side slowly, "I've always found you seductive."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Draco…"
"There are more," he interrupted her.
Hermione took the book from him and turned to face him, "I want your opinion, not the opinions of others."
"I loved the story, I loved working on the sex scenes with you as always, and I love how excited you are when you get the pre-release books in the mail," he smiled. "You know I love it. You know I love you."
"I'm hardly likely to forget that," she slipped her arms around his neck, "You remind me often enough."
"Someone has to tell you you're amazing and brilliant and a good writer," Draco reasoned. "You're also stunningly gorgeous, the best lover I could ever have, and I love how aggressive you can get."
Hermione kissed him, "I love you too. But be honest with me. This is new ground for me in writing and I want to know what you think."
Draco pulled her to him so that they could lay down in the bed, "I think that you're going to be writing more spy novels," he answered seriously. "Your character Emma is everything your protagonists always are; a strong, independent woman who knows her sexuality and is unashamed of it. And in this case she even uses it to get the information she wants or needs. Your book is brilliant and I think people will be begging for a sequel."
"I think you just want to come up with kinky ideas for a sequel," she countered. Draco winked and she laughed.
When she stopped laughing she kissed his cheek, "Love, I can't write a sequel. Emma dies at the end of the novel."
"Zombie spy novel," Draco suggested.
"Yes I am," he agreed, leaning in to kiss her. "It's a good book, Hermione. You're too hard on yourself."
"I know I am," she sighed. "I can't help it. It's my only flaw."
"Well it's a minor one in the grand scheme of things," Draco soothed, rubbing her arm. He glanced at the clock, "Bollocks, I have to go back to work."
"I can survive without your presence, you know," Hermione smirked.
"Now that's a lie," Draco declared. "You need me."
"Actually I tend to get more done without you around," she teased, summoning her clothes to her. "You, sir, are a distraction."
"I thought I was an inspiration," he pouted.
"You are that too," she kissed him gently, "but how can I get anything done when you don't want to leave me here alone? I get more done going into the office despite not being comfortable writing there."
Draco sighed. He knew he wasn't always as helpful as he intended. But the miscarriage had scared him. Leaving her alone at home had been a really bad idea that day and sure she'd shown no signs that anything was wrong and there was no way anyone could have known what was coming but Draco's greatest fear was his wife dying. That day that fear had very nearly come true. "I can't help it, love. That day haunts me."
"I know it does," Hermione hugged him, "oh Draco I know it does," she whispered into his ear, "but you didn't lose me. And I'm healthy now."
"I know but sometimes I stop and think about what could have happened and what nearly did happen and…" Draco choked back the sob, feeling the tears come to his eyes at the memories of that trip to the hospital.
Hermione pulled him with her back down to the bed, holding him and rubbing his back as Draco finally broke down. It had been almost nine months since she'd had the miscarriage and it amazed her that her husband had held out this long before succumbing to the grief and fear that day had caused them both. "I'm alive, Draco," she whispered repeatedly to him. "I'm safe."
"If I'd lost you I couldn't…I need you. I need you so much," Draco confessed, tears running down his face. Hermione tightened her hold, fighting back her own tears. So many times he'd held her through nightmares. Held her after her miscarriage when she had needed him to be the strong one. This time he was the one who needed it more.
"I love you Draco Malfoy," Hermione whispered. "I love you so much it was the only thing getting me through torture and living in a tent on the run. I wasn't going to let Dolohov take me away from you after all that hell. Not a chance."
Hermione had an elf inform Lucius that Draco was taking a 'mental health day', hoping that her father-in-law got the message in her carefully chosen words. She let him cry himself to sleep before deciding to do something she was sure he never did in his youth. Which was a pity with all the great chairs and lounges in the manor.
When Draco woke a half hour later Hermione was just returning to the room. She smiled and walked over to him, "Do you feel a little better now?"
Draco nodded and she kissed him, "I have a surprise for you downstairs."
"What about work?" He asked.
"I sent an elf to your father; you're not returning to work today," she tugged him toward the edge of the bed. "Now come see your surprise."
"What kind of surprise?" Draco asked, standing up and letting his wife pull him toward the door.
"A fun one," she answered.
Draco was very curious but followed without question. When they entered the muggle wing he was even more confused but inside the room that held their television was a collection of blankets thrown over the furniture, "This is something every muggle child does," Hermione said. "It's a blanket fort."
"I don't get it," Draco said.
"Of course you don't," she rolled her eyes. Sometimes when they argued Draco would say she thought like a muggle. Hermione knew that he didn't mean it as a real insult; he simply saw it as a hindrance to her magical abilities. But Hermione was certain that her logical 'muggle' thinking was what made her such a good witch. The purebloods she knew struggled to think outside the box. Or in this case, inside the fort.
"What's the purpose?" Draco asked.
"It's fun," Hermione answered, releasing him and entering the fort, "come on in Draco. Welcome to Fort Granger."
"You're a Malfoy now," Draco frowned. "Why is it Fort Granger?"
"Because a Malfoy has never built a blanket fort before," she answered, "now get in here."
He obeyed, dropping to his knees and crawling into Hermione's blanket 'fort'. He was impressed with the interior. Lots of pillows and he realized she'd arranged it so that they could watch the television. "So what do you do in a blanket fort?" Draco asked his wife.
"I used to read," she answered. "Sometimes my dad would build these with me and we'd watch the telly; even some movies. It was his solution to wet and stormy days."
Draco lay down in the massive pile of pillows. "Did you get every pillow we have in the mansion?"
"If I did we'd have three or four forts," she responded, lying next to him and taking his hand in hers, lacing their fingers, "One day we'll be building forts for our child. I know it."
He smiled. He rather liked the images her words created in his mind. "This is pretty nice," he conceded.
"I thought we could watch a movie," she suggested. "Or just talk."
"Talk about what?"
"About what happened upstairs when you were getting ready to go back to work," she answered, not pleased to see those walls going back up. "Draco, we've been through worse."
"Hermione, this was different," Draco countered. "The miscarriage wasn't like the war."
"You didn't worry about losing me in the war?" Hermione asked, confused by Draco's problems with what had happened.
"Of course I did," he sighed and fell onto his back on the pillows. He'd have to tell her something he'd not told her before. And Draco dreaded doing that. He took a deep breath and cupped her cheek, "I was always worried about you. But I also never believed that I would survive. I was certain that in the end I was going to die before the war's end." Hermione curled into him, willing herself not to cry at his words. Draco continued, "But the miscarriage…that was the first time I thought I could you lose you and be alone. I always thought you could cope without me but I don't think I could cope without you."
"You underestimate yourself," Hermione whispered.
"Maybe I do," the blonde squeezed her against him, "but that's why the miscarriage has been harder for me."
"Well you're not losing me," she asserted. "It won't happen. Now, what movie do you want to watch?"
"A comedy," he answered.
"I know just the thing," Hermione got up and crawled out of the fort, Draco's eyes glued to her rear as she escaped. Emotional moment or not, his wife was gorgeous and Draco could never get enough of looking at her and touching her. His friends joked that he'd never left behind the hormonal teen phase. Maybe that was true. He personally thought it had the most to do with the fact that he'd had to go so long without seeing her or even knowing how she was doing. He savored every moment he had with her and when they were naked together, when she was pressed up against him, he knew she was safe and happy.
When she returned with the remotes she settled back into the fort and Draco snuggled close to her. Hermione's arms wrapped around his frame, "I love you," she said softly.
"I love you too," Draco responded as the menu appeared on the television. Her hand moved into his hair and Draco closed his eyes as she massaged his scalp. This felt good. "Thank you for this."
"You're welcome," Hermione smiled, leaning down to kiss him before hitting play on the remote. Draco adjusted his head to be able to watch the movie. This was an improvement to his day.