"Okay, we're here. We've made an appearance. Can we go home now?"
"Behave," Hermione laughed as she brushed her lips against her husband's cheek. She looked into his gray eyes and promised, "We won't stay long. You never know, honey, you might just enjoy it. You'll be dancing in no time."
"Hmph," Draco snorted, rolling his eyes, "you're naivete is charming, Hermione, but I sincerely doubt I shall enjoy a moment of this ridiculous affair except for the moments when I am with you and not surrounded by your annoying colleagues and even more irritating friends. Besides, you know that I hate dancing."
"I had to play nice with your Father and Mum during their Christmas ball so I think you should be able to tolerate my friends and co-workers for an hour or two," Hermione informed him, her brown eyes flashing with amusement when he made a face that would normally look terrible but that her husband still managed to make look sexy and handsome.
"You adore my Mum and Father," he reminded her, "I, however, loathe your friends and they are not particularly fond of me either."
"I wonder why," Hermione laughed as she hook her arm through his, "if you'd try being the wonderful and charming and adorable man that I know you can be, they might like you more."
"I don't care what they think of me, darling," he drawled lazily, his eyes moving over her face, "I'm not married to any of them, thank Merlin, though I do believe I had a nightmare like that once. It was absolutely dreadful. Potter wearing an apron and cooking brownies and Weasel was knitting." Draco shuddered, listening to his wife laugh, finding it one of the most pleasing sounds to hear. Her laugh and the sounds she made when they were making love were two sounds that he would never grow tired of hearing.
"Did I ever tell about the dream I had where Vince and Greg were babysitting for us?" Hermione giggled, "Trust me, when we have children, we are never leaving either of them in charge! The house was a mess and I believe they were more immature than our children."
"You've dreamed of having my child?" Draco smiled as his hand moved over her stomach, his eyes looking into hers as he admitted, "I've dreamed about that too. A beautiful daughter with her mother's gorgeous russet curls and smile and her Father's wit and intelligence, and a son with his mother's lovely brown eyes and his Father's good looks."
"It will happen soon," Hermione whispered, her hand moving over his and squeezing. They had decided recently that they were ready to begin a family, no longer using contraceptive charms, and she and Draco were both looking forward to having children.
"I can't wait to see you glowing and pregnant with my child," Draco said softly.
Hermione grinned, "If I take after my Mum, I'll be so huge that you'll believe you've married a whale instead of a witch. You'll probably find me ugly and unattractive and fat."
"Never," Draco smiled tenderly, "even if you cannot walk through the doors, I shall simply charm them to a wider size and sit and stare at my gorgeous wife and think how lucky I am that you chose me."
"Merlin, I love you," Hermione said as she brushed her lips against his, whispering in his ear, "I do believe we shall leave this party soon. I want you naked and desperate for me before the night's over."
With those words in his ear, she smiled sweetly, winking at his aroused expression, and set off to find her friends, her arm leading him through the crowd of people to the tables at the side. She released his arm to hug Potter and Weasley, Draco watching both men carefully to insure neither was touching Hermione in anything but a platonic and sibling-like way. Thankfully, the hugs were brief and both men nodded at him, their smiles fading slightly before they sat back down. Small chat was made and Draco kept himself occupied by playing with a lock of Hermione's hair and discussing a new broom with Greg, whose wife, formerly She-Weasel, was chatting with Hermione about some Muggle actor. The music began and most of the table got up to dance to the atrocious Muggle music, leaving him and Hermione alone.
"I love this song," Hermione told Draco, her eyes watching the couples, sneaking a look at him, "Would you like to…"
"Hermione, you know I hate dancing," he reminded her, "besides, I don't see how anyone could dance to this 'music'."
"It's rather easy. See all the people out there dancing? That's how," Hermione muttered, loving Draco completely but finding his stubbornness about dancing a bit annoying after six years as a couple. She loved to dance and didn't even care that she wasn't a great dancer, she just enjoyed going out and moving her body to the music. As it was, Draco was an excellent dancer, moving with his normal grace and elegance, but he had only danced with her a few times, at their wedding and at the parties his parent's held and in the privacy of their own home. It wasn't that he couldn't dance, he just didn't find it as pleasurable as she did, which was only understandable because she loathed Quidditch, which was one of his favorite activities. It just sucked a bit when they were at parties like this and she felt the inclination to dance.
"Hermione, you're looking beautiful tonight," a friendly voice interrupted her perusal of the dancers.
Hermione turned her head and smiled, "Blaise! I hadn't realized you were back."
"Just got in yesterday," Blaise nodded at Draco, "Malfoy."
"Zabini," Draco said dryly, his eyes alert. Blaise was one of his best friends, but that didn't mean he trusted the handsome wizard around his wife, especially considering the fact that Blaise was half in love with Hermione and had been since Hogwarts.
"How was the trip?" Hermione asked her good friend, smiling at the good-looking wizard as Draco moved closer, his arm moving around her shoulders in a typically possessive move.
"Why don't I tell you over a dance?" Blaise suggested, smirking when Draco glared at him. It was far too easy to annoy his old friend, something the dark-haired Slytherin took delight in doing. He cared for Hermione a lot, had even been in love with her during their seventh year when they'd both been Heads at Hogwarts, but that was years ago and it was obvious she loved Draco completely. So he enjoyed a bit of flirting with the witch he considered his best friend, knowing that she was aware that he loved her but not in a romantic way even if Draco seemed to have no idea, believing it a nice reminder to Draco how lucky he was to have her because jealousy was always a nice way of making one appreciate what they had.
"I'd love to dance!" Hermione smiled as she stood up and looked at Draco, "I'll be back soon, darling."
"What?" Draco protested, "You can't dance with Zabini!"
"Whyever not?" Hermione asked, "You won't dance with me. Blaise asked and I'd like to dance so I'm going to dance with my friend."
"You're not going to dance with him," Draco said simply, standing and taking her hand, "you're going to dance with me."
Blaise winked at Hermione and said, "Well, I guess I shall have to find someone else to dance with since it appears you're taken."
"She's very taken," Draco snarled, glaring at the dark Slytherin.
"I'm glad you're back, Blaise," Hermione said as she gave him a hug, "we'll talk about your trip over lunch Monday. Have a good night."
Draco led his wife to the dance floor, pulling her into his arms as a slow song began, one hand on the small of her back, his other hand tracing the lines of her face. He heard someone whisper, "Is that Draco Malfoy dancing?", rolling his eyes as he wondered if these twits had so very little to occupy their lives that his dancing was important enough to discuss. Of course, he was Draco Malfoy so everything about him and his gorgeous wife was very important so he excused their chattering whispers and focused on the beautiful woman in his arms.
"You dance so well," Hermione told him, her arms on his shoulders, her hands clasped behind his neck.
"If you are going to do something, you should do it well," he told her with a sexy smile, his hand moving her against his pelvis where she could feel his excitement over their dance.
"You're wicked," she smiled, "and I love it."
"This whole night out of ours, is it nearly finished? I'd love nothing more than to take you to bed and spend the next few hours worshiping your delicious body," he said casually, his hand moving to cup her arse, "and then fuck you so hard you can't walk for days."
"Draco!" Hermione gulped, her body reacting to his words. With a flush in her cheeks, she said, "Let me say goodbye to Harry and Ron and then we can leave."
" Do you think we'll ever attend one of these silly parties for more than an hour?" Draco drawled lazily, "I do believe our record is forty-five minutes and that was Goyle's wedding."
"If you'd quit being so darn sexy and tempting, we might," Hermione informed him primly.
"Who was the teasing wench in my arms during my parent's last ball? The gorgeous vixen that whispered the naughtiest things in my ear while rubbing her delectable body against mine until I was forced to leave the party and fuck her in my Father's study?" Draco asked innocently, growing thoughtful before saying, "I do believe that you were the vixen in question, dear wife, so there shall be no pointing fingers about leaving parties early to make love."
"I'm not complaining," Hermione confessed, "I'd much rather make love than attend another party anyway."
"Run along and make your excuses to Dumb and Dumber," Draco smirked at his appropriate Muggle reference to her annoying friends, "so we can go home."
"Draco, next time we decide to have a night out," Hermione suddenly smiled, "let's just stay in!"
Originally Published: July 15, 2004
"Okay, we're here. We've made an appearance. Can we go home now?"