"How is he?" Hermione asked softly as she entered the study and found her husband staring out the window.
Draco turned to look at her, his gray eyes resigned as he sighed, "He's the same. Has no bloody idea who I am or even who he is. Guess that's a good thing, really, but it still hurts to see him like that. He might be an evil bastard, but he's still my Father. I don't know, Hermione. I'm glad he's there under such strict security because he's not a threat to us, to our children, but a part of me wishes things could have been different, that you could have met him before he was so heavily under Voldemort's influence. He wasn't always such a bad man."
"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, having no fondness whatsoever for Lucius Malfoy, knowing the wizard would quickly kill her and the children she had with Draco if he been aware of their marriage and his Half-blood grandchildren, but hurting for Draco because she loved him completely and felt his pain at having a Father who sat in a cell at Azkaban lost in a fog with no memories beyond his childhood.
"I love you," Draco whispered as he looked at his wife, pregnant with their third child and looking absolutely beautiful. He confessed, "I'd rather have my Father in prison in the mental state he's in than live with the threat of what he might do to those I love. Does that make me a terrible son?"
"No, it makes you the smartest and most loving wizard that I know," she smiled as she moved to him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she rested her cheek on his back. "You know, pretty soon I won't be able to hug you like this. My stomach is getting huge."
"You look gorgeous," he told her as he turned to face her, his lips brushing against her cheek. With a wicked smile, he asked, "Are the children asleep?"
"Finally," Hermione laughed softly as she thought of their two year-old daughter and five year-old son. "I had to read Damien four stories before he finally got sleepy and Lucissa didn't want to lay down at all, even after receiving her good night kiss from you."
"But they're asleep now?" he clarified as his hands moved to the front of her robe, unfastening the ribbon holding it in place to reveal that she was wearing a burgundy nightgown that clung to her curves.
"Draco, we can't! Not here," Hermione protested when she saw the lust in his gray eyes. Merlin, she loved this man. They hadn't started dating until after Hogwarts, after the War, but one day he'd approached her and seemed more nervous than he had even facing his former friends on the battle field and he'd asked her to go out with him, suggesting going for coffee. She'd been unable to say no, having developed a bit of a crush on her former enemy over the years. Coffee had led to discussion, which had led arguing, which had led to passionate sex.
Their relationship hadn't surprised anyone, which was a bit galling. If anything, they'd heard 'it's about bloody time' so often that Draco had mischievously included that phrase on their wedding invitations eight years ago. Narcissa Malfoy had not been overly pleased at her son's choice of bride, but the reserved blonde had thawed considerably once Hermione had children, being a surprisingly doting grandmother. Lucius Malfoy, however, had no idea that Draco was married, much less to a Muggleborn. The elder Malfoy had been in Azkaban since the Battle at the Ministry, unable to buy his way out of that fiasco, and his mind had broken shortly after sixth year. He knew his name some of the time, but, more often than not, he was silent and lost in memories of his childhood. Draco visited him every month, partly because he was his Father and party to assure himself that Lucius was not a threat.
"Yes, we can," Draco smiled smugly as he moved his hands beneath her gown. The melancholy that always followed a visit to see his Father faded as he kissed Hermione, his fingers moving between her legs and finding her damp. He loved kissing his wife, loving the taste of her and the feel of her and everything about her. They had been together a decade, married for eight years, and had two beautiful and intelligent children with another on the way and he still found himself wondering what he had ever done to deserve such happiness, to deserve Hermione. He was rude to her friends, loved arguing with her because he found her ravishing when she was angry, disliked a majority of Muggles and Muggle things, was somewhat possessive and jealous and a wee bit spoiled, and she still loved him.
"Hmm," Hermione moaned as his lips moved against her neck, unable to suggest moving this upstairs to their room when he was kissing her neck like that. Wicked bastard knew she was putty in her hands when he kissed her or nuzzled her neck. She gasped when he suddenly sat down and pulled her onto his lap, his hands unzipping his trousers before continuing to tease her pussy, causing the juices to drip down her thighs. She remembered when she was first pregnant with Damien, how careful they'd both been, Draco treating her as if she was fragile glass that might break if he was a bit rough. They'd not been sure what would hurt the baby and what could be done when she was pregnant, learning and trying things out and experimenting to find out what felt pleasurable for her in her condition. By the end of that pregnancy, they could have written a manual on safe sexual positions and practices while pregnant. Thankfully, Draco had finally understood that touching her would not hurt her or the baby and he'd stopped treating her as if she were fragile, his hands still tender but also forceful in the way she found arousing.
"You're so beautiful," Draco muttered as his eyes moved over her glowing face, past her full breasts and lingered on the swell of her tummy. He brushed his lips against her belly, wondering if she was carrying a daughter or son for them, neither one wanting to find out until the birth. She was growing bigger than she had during the last two pregnancies and his Mum was convinced it was twins, as was that annoying Molly Weasley. Draco thought they might be right, though he'd sooner be hexed than admit he agreed with any of the Weasleys. If they were having twins, that was something that would probably be confirmed during her visit to the Mediwitch next week.
"Your eyesight is failing you in your old age," Hermione blushed as she ruffled his pale blond hair, finding it rather irritating that she would still blush when he looked at her with that loving look and sexy smile and compliment her after all these years.
"I'm only thirty-one, darling," he reminded with a smile, "and you're only a few months younger than I."
"Draco!" she exclaimed when his fingers moved inside her, moving against his hand as she said, "Quit talking and fuck me!"
"Yes, dear," that being a request that he was always eager to obey. He removed his hand and swiftly entered her, pulling her down against his erection. She began to ride him, this being her preferred position when she was pregnant, having the ability to control the depth of his penetration. They moved together in the chair, his lips moving over her breasts as her fingers tangled in his hair. It wasn't long before she was panting and grinding against him, her muscles working him, her lips meeting his as she came with a whimper. He continued to thrust into her, his hands on her hips as he brought her down against him, arching up and sinking inside her as he came with a grunt.
"I think we should move this upstairs," Hermione informed him with a sexy smile, "I'm not finished with you yet, Draco."
"I love it when you talk dirty," Draco smirked as he stood up, his hands beneath her arse as he stayed inside her.
"Put me down, Draco," Hermione laughed, her legs wrapping around his waist to help keep him balanced.
"No," Draco kissed her, "I want to carry my wife upstairs to our bedroom so I can spend the remainder of the evening ravishing her."
"You foolish romantic sweet man," she smiled as she brushed her lips against his.
"Besides, I'd better carry you now," he told her when the kiss ended, his gray eyes flashing with mischief, "because pretty soon you'll be too heavy to lift," winking at her as she smacked his shoulder, his lips against hers before she could finish scolding him for his playful teasing.
*the end *