Father Knows Best by inell
Summary: Someone plays matchmaker for Hermione and Draco
Categories: Harry Potter > Hermione/Draco Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 1563 Read: 1714 Published: 15 Aug 2014 Updated: 15 Aug 2014
Story Notes:

I’m sorry if this isn’t any good. D/Hr isn’t really “talking” to me right now, but I got this idea and wanted to write it. I’ve been crushing on Ade/Hermione and Blaise/Hermione lately. *sheepish smile*
This is a reply to a drabble request from Lilith who wanted D/Hr and Lucius matchmaking

Originally Posted: October 25, 2004

Chapter 1 by inell

“What are you doing here?”


Draco Malfoy looked up from the menu, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the pretty brunette witch glaring at him. Arching a pale brow, he hid his surprise and drawled, “Well, Hermione, I think the appropriate questions is what are *you* doing here.”


“I was invited here by Lucius,” she snapped, her eyes searching the quaint café for the man she was supposed to be meeting, her eyes finally moving back to his son. “He’s not here, is he? Was this a trick, Malfoy?”


“Would you sit down and attempt to refrain from making a scene?” Draco hissed softly when he realized they were being watched. He had no problems with people looking at him under normal circumstances, but this was different. He was relieved when she blushed slightly and sat down, praising Merlin for her not refusing his request just to annoy him.


Hermione sat down, looking everywhere but the handsome man across from her. She should have known better, but the invitation had been delivered by Lucius’ personal owl and it had definitely not been Draco’s handwriting. “Since it is obvious that your Father isn’t actually planning to meet me for lunch, I should leave.”


“You prefer his company over mine?” Draco asked sharply, jealousy flashing in his eyes as he counted to ten. Slowly, he taunted, “I dare say that I must let Mum know of your unhealthy attachment to my Father.”


“Bugger off, Brat,” she sneered as she looked into his eyes, her scowl fading as she saw the circles beneath them and the loneliness in their gray depths.


“You look horrid,” he informed her, his gaze moving over her face, lingering on her lips, before his eyes caught hers.


“Yes, well, you won’t be winning any beauty contests right now, either,” she replied as her hand nervously ran through her curly brown hair.


“Right now?” his lips curved into a slight smile, “So, under normal circumstances, I *would* be winning whatever a beauty contest is?”


“Arrogant prat,” she muttered, meaning to sound curt but instead sounding affectionate.


“My Father was supposed to be meeting me for lunch,” Draco informed her quietly, his eyes not looking away from hers. “I refused, of course, because I was much more content sitting in my room being hopeless and whining about my pathetic life, but he insisted. I daresay he has set us up.”


“Your life is far from pathetic,” she sighed, “and you always whine so that’s nothing new.”


“Surprise, surprise,” he smirked, “I guess Little Miss Know-it-All doesn’t know everything. My life has been dull and wretched for the last week. I fear I’m driving my parents crazy with my constant sighing and fits of anger.”


“Really?”


“No, I’m merely being polite and making casual conversation,” he rolled his eyes, smiling as her eyes flashed with fire. “You’re so beautiful when you‘re angry. Merlin, I’ve missed you, Hermione.”


“I might have missed you, too,” she whispered, “but that’s not enough, Draco.”


“I’m sorry,” he spoke two words that he had never anticipated speaking, watching her eyes widen with surprise. “I was an insensitive bastard and I don’t blame you for leaving because it‘s made me realize how important you are to me. I love you, Hermione. I can‘t promise that we won‘t fight again or that I won‘t make mistakes, but you can‘t leave me every time I‘m an insufferable prat or we‘ll never be together!”


“Did Draco Malfoy just acknowledge that he’s insufferable?” she smiled slightly, watching her husband of four weeks pout at her reply to his heartfelt words.


“I’ll deny it if ever confronted, of course,” he warned, eyes flashing with a vulnerability that had become far too common since he had run into Hermione Granger two years ago at one of Pansy’s parties. She had the maddening ability to make him do things he’d never done before, like fall in love. When they had gotten married last month, he’d assumed that the strange feelings and confusion that she caused would soon fade away with marriage, but it had only gotten worse.


He was even more possessive of the woman he loved, she continued to mystify him constantly and remained a puzzle he couldn‘t quite solve, he could never figure out the perfect way to act and often felt completely insecure and vulnerable as he tried to show her how much he loved her, and he couldn’t believe how much he had missed her this last week. It was as if part of him was missing, worse than losing an arm, his nights lonely and his days empty. He’d wandered around the Manor, seeing her everywhere but unable to hold her because she’d left him.


He honestly couldn’t remember what they had been fighting about, though he could recall making some rude comment about her Muggle parents, bickering tending to be foreplay for the two of them, but whatever had been said had caused her to glare and leave, his new wife spending the last week with Pansy and Potter. Draco had believed she’d return, apologize for overreacting and then let him shag her senseless, but the days had gone by and she’d not even owled him. By mid-week, he was convinced that he had lost the only thing he’d ever really wanted and that his chance at happiness was gone the moment she’d quietly shut the door behind her. Now she was sitting in front of him and he knew it required drastic action to convince her that he knew he had fucked up and had no intentions of driving her away ever again.


“Of course,” she moved her hand to lay on top of his, her fingers linking with his, “I have to admit that I may have overreacted a bit, myself. Not that I’m accepting the blame for you being a narrow-minded little bigot, but I was stressed at work and thought you were intentionally insulting me and believed we were past all that blood nonsense so I guess I’m sorry, too.”


“So you’re coming home?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing against her palm as he waited for her answer.


“Yes, I’m coming home,” she smiled as his lips curved into a big smile.


“And you won’t leave again just because we have a silly fight?”


“No promises,” she teased, laughing as he sulked, “Fine, I promise that I won’t run to Harry and Pansy every time we have a fight if you promise to not be a stubborn arse and refuse to come after me.”


“You wanted me to come after you?” he shook his head, “Bloody hell, woman! How am I supposed to know all these complicated marriage games? Would you have stayed there until I did come after you?”


“Well, I was planning to come home and hex you until you admitted you missed me and needed me if you didn’t come get me soon,” she admitted with a sheepish smile.


“You do realize that my Father set us up, don’t you?” Draco leaned over and brushed his lips against hers.


When the kiss ended, Hermione caressed his cheek, “I do believe that we should repay him for meddling in our marriage this time, don’t you?”


“Hmm,” Draco traced her lips, “I’m not certain we should reward him for interfering because it will merely encourage him and he‘s unbearable most of the time now since he consented to our marriage. But I suppose he should be thanked for playing matchmaker this time. What did you have in mind?”


“Something we would enjoy, too,” she kissed his fingertips, her amber eyes flashing with lust as she mused, “Lucius has been hinting since we got engaged that he’d love having grandchildren to spoil.”


Draco stood and tossed some galleons on the table, purring in her ear, “I love the way you think, Hermione Malfoy.”


He practically pulled her from the café, both smiling and feeling like idiots for being so stubborn and silly, lust and love in their eyes as they left, neither noticing the smug blond couple sitting several tables away in a dark corner of the cafe. Narcissa gave Lucius a pleased smile, “I must admit that I’m rather impressed.”


“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” he said dryly.


“Lucius, darling, you always impress me,” Narcissa kissed his cheek, her eyes flashing with amusement as she reminded, “However, this is simply a case of history repeating itself, though I do believe it took you two weeks to realize that I intended for you to actually chase after me following that argument about possible names for the baby.”


“Hmph,” he smiled smugly as he took her hand, “At least I eventually figured out your devious plan, darling.”


“Draco is a smart boy, even if he is a bit obtuse when it comes to matters of love and especially to figuring out an intelligent and loving girl like Hermione. He’d have gone after her soon, even without your interfering,” Narcissa said confidently.


“Perhaps,” Lucius relented before smirking, “but we would have been forced to hear him sighing like some silly lovelorn Hufflepuff while staring at her empty seat at the dining table until his moment of enlightenment.”


“Oh dear,” Narcissa grimaced, “I was beginning to have the urge to hex him if he sighed any louder so I’m afraid you’re right.”


“Narcissa, we‘ve been married thirty years now. Haven‘t you learned anything in that time?” Lucius kissed her before pulling back. Gray eyes flashing with mischief as he whispered against her lips, “I’m always right.”


The End.

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