A/N — Hi everyone! I'm supposed to be finishing up another chapter of my work in progress and instead I'm here writing the second half of this story because your reviews were so wonderful that I couldn't focus until I wrote this down. I hope you enjoy reading part 2, I'd love to read your thoughts.
I swear I could make this an entire multi-chapter story, but I have several stories backlogged already and a work in progress halfway complete so hopefully you don't mind that it's only going to be two chapters total thanks for reading!
Hermione's feet faltered when she spotted the sign ahead, Mathilda's Tea Room & Bookshop, she chewed on her lip, a pit growing in her stomach. She was on her way to her first date with Draco Malfoy, and she could not remember the last time that she felt so nervous for a date. Hermione smoothed her dress down. After an embarrassingly long time spent digging in her closet, she ended up selecting a baby blue sundress and pair of wedges for their date.
It was nonsensical, she chided herself, they slept together not 24 hours ago but this she was nervous for? Yes. This made her feel vulnerable, exposed even, in a way that even lying naked in his bed had not. She did not know where this was going and that scared her.
She peered through the dingy glass, spotting a head of platinum blond hair at a table towards the back of the tearoom. Taking a steadying breath, Hermione pushed open the door and navigated to Draco's table. The room was small, only holding 6 tables; it was empty except for Draco and a lone worker who was preparing food behind the counter.
Heart hammering in her chest, she admired him from a distance; he was wearing a white fitted button-up shirt that showed off the definition in his arms and a pair of navy-blue trousers. Tracing the grain of the round table with his fingertip, Draco must have spotted her in his peripheral because he looked up at her and smiled—her pulse leapt in response.
Draco stood up abruptly, bumping into the table, the tea set rattled from the movement. Placing his hands on the tabletop, he settled it and grimaced.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," he admitted, walking around the table to greet her, running his hand through his hair. "I…brought you some flowers, but I wasn't sure what kind you like so I bought a bit of everything." Draco picked up a bouquet, turning it over in his hands.
It was obscenely large, filled with roses, lilies, orchids, peonies, tulips, and many other breeds of flower—some Hermione did not even recognise.
She bit back a smile. "Sunflowers," she offered. "My favorite flowers are sunflowers."
His eyes widened with the new information and he nodded, pulling out a single sunflower from the bouquet and handing it to her, "For my lovely date."
Hermione accepted the sunflower, twirling the stem in her hands and carefully sniffing the flower.
Pureblood manners kicking in, he stepped behind her and pulled out her chair, helping as she took a seat at their table. The Draco in front of her was a completely different Draco than she had seen yesterday. Yesterday Draco had been suave and commanding, overwhelming her senses, today Draco seemed flustered and almost shy.
She decided that she quite liked both Dracos.
"Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows. It's what the sunflowers do." Hermione quoted, still holding her flower up to her nose before setting it down on the table in front of her.
"Who said that?" Draco inquired, eyeing the sunflower.
"A Muggle named Helen Keller," Hermione answered matter-of-factly. "When she was a child, she contracted an illness that left her deaf and blind. She's rather famous in the Muggle world, she was an author and activist."
With a raise of his brow, he gave her a half grin. "Still swotty as ever, aren't you Granger?"
Frowning, she felt her forehead crease as she glared at him.
"I'm apparently really into swotty, if you weren't aware," he smirked, and her stomach flipped. "Have any books on Ms. Keller that I can read?"
Hermione sat up straighter, her cheeks heating under his gaze. "I do, actually, they are my mum's, but I can lend you a few if you want."
"I would like that, if she can part with them for a few days." Draco casually stirred a spoonful of honey into his tea.
Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she looked up from his spoon and noticed Draco's eyes drift down to her lips; her breath grew shallow, recalling his words from the day before 'every week at work, sucking your quills, biting that lip, and now, watching my cock disappear between your lips.' Hermione licked her lips subconsciously, watching his eyes linger for a moment before skating back up to her eyes.
It might have been the light, but she could've sworn his cheeks were tinted with a bit of colour.
"Welcome!" an excited voice exclaimed, breaking Hermione from her thoughts. "I'm Mathilda, the owner, we are so excited to have you join us today for tea and lunch!"
Hermione looked around the café again; they were the only patrons at lunch hour?
"It's not often we have a couple rent out the entire tearoom—how romantic!" Mathilda winked at Hermione who looked back at Draco in surprise.
Yes, he was definitely growing pink in the face.
"I have a sample platter here; I'll stop by to refill your tea and there is a stasis charm on it so it will never grow cold. Enjoy!" she bustled away, leaving a three-tier tray of sandwiches, cakes, pastries, scones, and jam on their table.
Hermione fought back a smile. "Did you honestly rent out the entire shop for our date today?"
Draco scowled over at Mathilda who was humming in the corner as she worked on preparing more sandwiches.
"I just thought…I don't know, you might not want to be seen out with me." He avoided her stare, fiddling with his cup. "I know it's been years since the war but there are people who will always think of me as a death eater. I…I didn't want you to have to deal with that today. I mean, if I screw this up—which I still might—I'd rather it not start out with the headline, Death Eater Seduces Golden Girl War Hero."
"Don't call yourself that." She frowned, resisting the urge to take his hand. "That's not fair," she argued. "You were acquitted; not to mention, a child during the war. All of us were."
"If only everyone were as understanding as you. There are those who will never believe that there is any good in me. They don't realize that some of us never had a choice," he chuckled humorlessly. "I had my side in the war before I was ever born."
Giving in, Hermione reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and warmth filled her chest from the simple act.
"You were doing the same as the rest of us, trying to survive. You shouldn't talk down about yourself, it's untrue. You think I haven't noticed you at work over the years? You've done more than your share of reparations." She looked between his eyes, the sadness in them broke her heart.
"It's not enough—"
Shaking her head, she continued, "The Ministry is swarming with gossip and I've heard about the donations you made that were intended to be completely anonymous. You've helped thousands of people with your contributions. The orphanage has enough funding for a decade because of you. Even when the world abandoned you, you turned around and helped the very people who scorn you. Make no mistake of it, you are a good man."
"Granger…" he swallowed thickly, gently rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.
"No more of this," she stated firmly. "I am not ashamed to be on a date with you, I hope you know that. There will be no more of this nonsense. If anyone has something to say, I'll be right there to tell them exactly how they're wrong—you know how much I enjoy doing that."
The ghost of a smile crossed his face before he conceded with a nod.
"Tell me about Malfoy Industries, about your business with the Ministry," Hermione prompted, selecting a cucumber sandwich and biting into it.
"Well, after father was sentenced to life in Azkaban, I had to take over the family business. I was 17 and scared shiteless, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. Luckily, I had full control over the company and replaced all of father's board members with people I trusted on the first day. It's been a challenge, I've made mistakes, and I've learned a great deal along the way; overall, I'm proud of how its grown and that I have a platform to make a difference."
He speared jam on his knife, spreading it over his scone. "Securing the Ministry contract was our big break back into Wizarding society. I believe it has to do with Potter's testimony at my family's trial that kept us in good enough graces with the Ministry to accept our work," Draco admitted, shrugging slightly.
"Harry was a wreck before your trial, he was worried that you would end up with life in Azkaban if he hadn't testified."
Draco stilled, absorbing her confession. "I probably would have, I sent him a letter—"
"—he told me." She took a bite of a miniature cake, wiping off frosting from her lip with her thumb. "He was happy to hear from you."
"What about you? I'd have thought you'd be Minister for Magic by now."
She laughed dryly, "Minister for Magic? You realize I'm just a paper-pusher in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, right? I started in the department because I wanted to make a difference, but I quickly found out the current laws make that next to impossible. Though I do aspire to become a Deputy Head in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I've found that's where I could influence the laws."
"You'll do great things, Granger, I've never once doubted that. You shouldn't limit yourself, I overheard O'Neal saying just the other day that a position was opening in the DMLE. You should put your name into the running." He encouraged.
Pausing, she considered his words and the corner of her mouth pulled up. "I think I just might."
Draco looked pleased, selecting a strawberry cake from the top tier of the stand.
"So, Granger, what do you think your mates would say if they knew you were on a date with me?" Draco asked, popping the cake into his mouth.
Tilting her head, she pondered his question. "Candidly speaking, I'm not sure. I'd like to think they would trust my judgement. Ginny would be thrilled; I can't tell you the frequency in which she talked about your arse in Quidditch pants during school, but you would be appalled."
Having inhaled part of his tea, Draco coughed and hit his chest. "You're kidding!"
"She was not the only one."
His eyes widened in intrigue. "Go on," he encouraged with a tilt of his head.
She laughed at his reaction. "I'll spill my secrets another day, Draco. What about your mates? Think they'd approve?"
"Well, funny you should mention it. I had a nice long chat with Blaise last night after you left my flat," Draco started, pouring more tea into his cup.
"Blaise Zabini?" Hermione asked. "What has he been up to since Hogwarts?"
"Apparently, setting up his best mate with his dream girl." Draco quipped before freezing as realisation dawned on Hermione's face. "Not just by Blaise, it was Parvati as well."
"No, what?" she gasped. "So, it wasn't some freak accident that I was Portkeyed into your flat?"
His brows disappeared behind his fringe. "Rumour has it that you're famous for meddling. She set the Portkey up in her office specifically for you."
Raising a hand to her chest in offense, she shook her head. "Me? Meddle?" she paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of her lip. "Okay maybe, but you're telling me that they set the whole thing up? Why? To what end?"
"Blaise decided to play matchmaker and thought the element of surprise would throw us off—his quote not mine—'our usual self-destructive dating habits' and actually spend time together."
"I mean, it did kind of work. We've worked in the same office building for what, three years now? Seen each other at least once a week during that time in passing. We've both fancied each other for nearly a decade, and it took yesterday to get us to really talk." Hermione reasoned aloud. "Perhaps it wasn't the worst idea?"
"Please do me a favour and don't tell Blaise that, he will never let us live it down. He was so smug last night." Draco rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache.
She took a long sip of her tea before making a face. Hermione leaned in closer to Draco, whispering, "You weren't kidding about the tea."
"I promised you mediocre tea and I've delivered on that promise; you'll find that I'm a man of my word," he teased.
Covering her laugh with a cough, she glanced over her shoulder at Mathilda just as she stepped into the back room.
"So, Draco," she started, stirring milk into her tea. "Since fourth year?"
Pursing his lips, he waited a beat before nodding in confirmation. "Since fourth year."
"And you, Granger." He smirked and she wanted to kiss it off his face. "Since fifth year?"
Tapping a finger to her cheek in faux contemplation, she replied, "I believe so, though it's difficult to place, it's been so long. Plus, it's not as though I ever entertained the idea of actually being with you. You were more of a fantasy."
He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Do tell me more about this fantasy, Granger."
Swatting at him playfully, she teased, "Let's see if you get a second date first. I honestly thought you couldn't stand me back then; I'm astonished to hear that you actually fancied me."
His face twisted in shame. "I'm sorry about that, I truly am. I was terrified out of my wits and it felt like I didn't have a choice in anything; I spent so many years acting out. Fancying you would've probably had me disowned at 15, not that that's an excuse. I was a complete prat, I thought if I only showed you the worst of me that you would hate me and not even be an option, and I could…" his voice trailed off, his eyes focused in the space over her shoulder.
"It's okay, Draco." She reached her hand back over the table to him.
"Thank you for giving me a chance, Granger." He pulled her hand up to his lips, kissing it softly. "I hope you'll give me more chances after today."
Her stomach flipped at the feeling of his lips. "I hope you'll do the same for me. Now, we haven't touched the food in a while and I feel the call of the bookstore, shall we?"
Making his way around the table to her, he pulled her chair out. "After you." He placed a hand on the small of her back as they walked through the back door into the bookstore.
She smiled to herself as she leaned into his hand, feeling giddy at the intimate touch. Remarkable how much can change in a couple days, she mused, looking up at Draco; she could not believe how effortless it felt to be with him.
"Honestly, Hermione, I can't emphasize enough how preposterous this question sounds coming from a Malfoy, but isn't this a bit excessive?" Draco asked, balancing a stack of books in his arms as tall as his head.
"I do recall you said I could buy all the books I want, mister man-of-his-word," Hermione reminded him. "It just so happens that I want all the books."
"But can't we at least cast a Feather-Light Charm so we don't have to lug them around until we get back to your flat?" he complained.
"No pain, no gain, Malfoy," she quipped, shifting her own stack of books from one arm to the other.
A laugh escaped his throat. "Who are you?" he asked, shaking his head fondly at her mantra.
"I thought we established this yesterday, Malfoy, don't tell me you've already forgotten." Hermione stared at him. "I am Hermione Granger."
Draco's face flushed a dark red. "Please never bring that up again; in fact, I think I'll go die now. Yes, that seems to be the only reasonable reaction to this situation."
"Nonsense, if you're dead then you'll miss out on our goodnight kiss." She smiled slyly. "And I have a feeling it's going to be a good one."
3 weeks later
"Granger," Draco started, his voice panicked. "I know I told you I would give you anything you want but I was expecting a library, a rare artifact, maybe a holiday abroad, I didn't realize you would want this."
Hermione rolled her eyes, scoffing. "Draco, I already told them to be nice, it's not that bad—"
Raising his hand, he cut her off. "Not that bad?! I'm going into the lion's den here, literally."
"Awe, is someone afraid of a couple Gryffindors?" she teased, slipping her arm around his waist and tucking her head against his shoulder.
"It's not just a couple—" he started before the door in front of them swung wide open.
"HERMIONE!" the room exploded, no fewer than a half dozen gingers called out to her in unison.
"Gryffindors…" Draco finished lamely, staring at the crowded room in abject horror.
"My love, welcome to the Burrow." Hermione grinned, taking his arm and dragging him through the open doorway.
"Hermione!" Harry pulled her away from Draco and into a hug, Draco stood awkwardly to the side while an extremely pregnant Ginny took Hermione's attention, rattling on about the baby kicking her ribs.
Draco turned to the wizard next to him. "Hello…Harry." He grimaced as if the name left a bad taste in his mouth.
Harry blinked at Draco. "Don't…don't do that."
"Oh, thank Merlin." Draco sighed in relief. "I'm in over my head here, Potter."
Harry snorted, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I'll say, I still can't believe you convinced her to date you."
"I can't believe it either, every day I keep expecting her to snap out of it and leave me."
Harry's eyebrows pushed together. "Wow, I was not expecting that. You've got it bad, mate. I feel for you, it's your first day and she brought you here with all the Weasleys. No one should have to be introduced to all the Weasleys at once, especially when you're dating Hermione. I had enough of a hard time with Ginny and they loved me already."
"Thank you! That's exactly what I told her, and she said I was being dramatic. I am not dramatic." Draco huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"To be fair, we all saw you with Buckbeak in third year…" Harry trailed off, smirking at Draco.
"With everything I know about you, you really want to start this right now?" Draco questioned, his eyes narrowing.
Thinking for a moment, Harry replied, "Absolutely not, want a Butterbeer?"
Draco lowered his voice, "Have anything stronger?"
Harry glanced over at Ginny and Hermione, then back to Draco. "I have Firewhisky in my bag, I'll get a glass for you—just don't tell the wife. Her bat boogey hex was excellent before she had the pregnancy hormones and I'm pretty sure it's lethal now."
"You're not too bad, Potter."
"The jury's still out on you, Malfoy," Harry quipped, directing him into the kitchen. "But every bloke deserves a bit of Firewhisky courage when they're being introduced to their girlfriend's second family."
3 months later
"If you're going to be utterly useless as a beater then we might as well go back to playing Stichstock! Why even bother with Quidditch?!"
"Utterly useless? That's hilarious coming from you, did you know the purpose of a Keeper is to stop the other team from scoring? Thought you might've missed that bit from the way you were playing today."
"Oy, get hit on the head with too many Bludgers, did you? Let's get back to the game!"
Hermione watched the scene in front of her, completely bewildered. The Weasleys—plus Harry and Draco—were playing Quidditch on the field behind the Burrow. At least, they were playing between the sporadic yelling matches.
"They all look furious! You're telling me they're actually enjoying this right now?" Hermione asked Ginny, watching as Ron threw down his broom in frustration and stomped off the field.
"Oh yeah, they live for this kind of thing. I don't think I've seen them have so much fun playing since Hogwarts." Ginny smiled broadly, rubbing her swollen belly.
"At this rate, I'll be amazed if they don't kill each other by the end of this game."
"Just give them a minute, it's almost out of their systems." Ginny gestured to Ron as he walked back to the main group.
Moments later, the players were all laughing and clapping each other on the back, picking up their brooms and starting another round.
"Told you!" Ginny grinned. "Like a timepiece, they're so predictable."
"I will never understand them." Hermione shook her head in amusement, watching her boyfriend blow her a kiss as he flew by the pair.
"This brings me back to Hogwarts days," Ginny reminisced, her gaze lingering just a moment too long at Draco's backside as he flew away from them.
"Ginny Potter!" Hermione chastised with a laugh. "You know, I was skeptical at first, but I've found that I'm quite the Quidditch fan under the right circumstances."
"I still can't believe you got Malfoy to come to the last four Weasley Sundays," Ginny marveled, her eyes darting around the field as she watched the game. "He must really love you."
Hermione smiled, biting her lower lip as Draco tilted his broom handle down, diving after the snitch. "I think he really does."
Draco's face bloomed into a giant grin, he held up the snitch in triumph as his teammates cheered. Hermione's heart swelled watching Charlie, Ron, George, and Bill praise Draco's game-winning catch, clapping him on the back in camaraderie.
"That was obviously just luck!" Harry called after Draco, ribbing him.
"Lucky? More like lucky I'm so talented," Draco argued, turning his broom towards Harry.
"Bullshite, see if I let you come back here again," Harry grumbled under his breath.
"You wish, Potter! Just want me to stay home to make it an easy win, do you?"
"Same time next Sunday?" Harry asked, the corner of his mouth perking into a smile.
Tossing Harry the snitch, Draco grinned. "Next Sunday, it is."
Ginny Potter looked wide-eyed between her husband and Draco Malfoy before whispering to herself. "Shite, are they mates now?"
5 years later
Hermione sighed, shuffling through a seemingly endless stack of documents on her Ministry desk. Her office was sparsely decorated, with boxes piled up in the corner. On top of the end table in the corner of the office was a sizeable bouquet of sunflowers, daisies, and chrysanthemums which took up most of the table space.
Chewing on the tip of her quill, reading the same paragraph over again, having difficulty focusing on the material. There was a knock on her open door, she looked up at the sound, seeing Draco Malfoy leaning against her doorframe with his hands in his pockets. His eyes watched her mouth as she took the quill from between her lips and placed it back on her desk.
"Granger," he drawled. "I was in the area and decided to stop by and see if you had the papers for me."
She quirked an eyebrow at him. "The papers? What papers?"
"Yes." He casually glanced over his shoulder as if looking for eavesdroppers. "The papers."
Hermione cleared her throat, raising her voice, "Oh of course, the papers. Yes, I have the papers for you if you'd like to come in."
Draco smirked, closing the door behind him with a click.
"Silencio," he waved his wand, silencing the room with a flourish.
"So, the papers," she tilted her head up at him, her lips curving into a coy smile. "Let me find those for you."
Standing from her desk, she purposefully turned her back to Draco and bent over slowly as she rummaged through her lower desk drawer.
She heard a sharp inhale behind her, she smirked to herself, perking her arse up towards him.
"I'm having difficulty locating your papers, Malfoy, perhaps they were lost in the reorganization."
A large hand grasped her hip, the other sliding down the curve of her back and squeezing her arse.
"Mr. Malfoy," she gasped, leaning into his touch. "You forget yourself."
"Ms. Granger." His hand slipped up under her skirt, his fingertips drifted up the back of her thigh with a feathery touch. "I can't believe you lost my paperwork. How unprofessional. Whatever will I do with you now?"
Tilting her hips towards his touch, she bit back a moan as his finger drew circles on her inner thigh, inching closer to her center. He pulled away, bunching her skirt up around her waist as she bent over her desk.
Draco caressed the supple skin of her arse, admiring it; he reached around her, rubbing her clit through her knickers. Shifting her hips, she ground herself against his hand, impatient for his touch. With a swift movement, he pulled her knickers down to her knees and she whimpered in response.
"Oh Granger, you are positively soaked." He bent down, gently parting her thighs.
As he slipped two fingers into her waiting heat, she inhaled a shuddered breath at the delicious stretch from his fingers. He held still, teasing her and she groaned in frustration, rocking her hips back against him.
"Please," she urged, thrusting herself against his fingers in a torturously slow rhythm for several moments.
Draco pulled his fingers away, slick from her core, "Hey—" she started to protest before his fingers were replaced with his tongue and she breathed out a sound of surprise. His hands gripped her cheeks as he licked and sucked her swollen clit, her legs shaking from pleasure as she rested her body weight on the desk.
His tongue swirled over her core, spelling M-I-N-E repeatedly as her thighs quivered around him. Hermione's hands grasped desperately at the desk for anything to stabilize herself, knocking off several books in the process.
The sound of a zipper filled the air and she wiggled her arse, bracing herself in anticipation.
"I will never get tired of watching you come undone," he murmured, grasping her hips and greedily thrusting up into her in one push.
Keening at the feeling of him inside her, Hermione's breath hitched in delight; her torso pushed up against the desk in time with his thrusts, the wood creaking under their combined weight.
Pulling her up to a standing position, Draco slipped his hands under her blouse and cupped her breasts, rolling her hardened nipples between his fingers. Hermione arched against his hands, pressing herself against him as he pulled all the way out of her, before pushing back into her fully. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the office, Hermione's breath came out in short pants as she rotated her hips around Draco.
Draco lowered a hand between her thighs, circling and flicking against her clit.
"Please, don't stop, I'm so close," she gasped out, throwing her head back as he stroked her, slamming into her with a frantic pace.
She felt the coil of tension in her snap, her walls clamping tight around him as he rode her through the waves. Her knees buckled, he held her up as his breath caught, he groaned and thrust one final time into her.
For a moment they stood there in silence, panting and leaning against each other. Hermione straightened up, pulling her knickers up and her skirt down. Draco tucked himself back into his trousers with a zip. She turned to face Draco who was flushed, his hair uncharacteristically messy. She leaned in to kiss him, his hands tangling in her curls as he stroked her tongue with his. He pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers.
"I think I can forgive you about losing my papers, it's just like the Ministry to be so disorganized," he quipped, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead.
"Oh Draco, whatever would your wife say?" Hermione teased him with raised eyebrows.
He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. "Who knows what goes on in that head of hers? One thing is for certain, she always has a great deal of opinions."
Hermione playfully smacked his hand, leaning back into the kisses on her neck with a soft groan.
"Think your assistant knows what we've been doing in here?" he asked with a devilish smirk.
"Oh stop, it's her first day, be nice to her," Hermione chastised. "She—"
The door to her office opened, her new assistant stumbled to a stop at their intimate embrace; her gaze flicked from the books on the floor, to the desk, and back up to the pair, her eyes wide.
"Oh!" the young woman squealed, throwing the paper she was holding over her eyes. "I am s-s-so sorry Mrs. Malfoy, I didn't realize Mr. Malfoy was in your office."
"Mrs. Granger-Malfoy," Draco corrected with his nose turned up at the stuttering assistant.
"If you want to be technical about it, as of yesterday it's Minister Granger-Malfoy," Hermione smiled slyly, reaching for the papers in her assistant's hands. "But really, Elizabeth, as I've already said, you can call me Hermione."
Elizabeth handed Hermione a stack of papers, nodding and blushing furiously, practically running out of the office.
Turning to Draco, Hermione glared daggers as she asked, "You didn't lock the door?"
He smirked, adjusting his tie. "I'll make sure to lock it next time."
With a roll of her eyes, she straightened a pile of papers that was skewed about. Hermione picked up a name plate that read Hermione Granger-Malfoy Deputy Director and placed it into a large moving box to the side of her desk.
"I still don't see why you insist on packing up your own office, love, you have people for that now."
"I don't mind doing it the Muggle way. Plus, I happen to have quite a few fond memories of this desk from over the years," she winked at him, picking up a book that had been tossed onto the floor during their activities. "Remember this one?"
Draco reached for the book, brushing his thumb over the cover. "From our first date," he shook his head with a smile. "Leave it to my wife to hoard every book she's ever read. At this rate we will have to buy an extra home just for your books."
"I thought you were really into swotty," she quipped, taking the book back and packing it away.
"Still am." He helped smooth down her wild hair. "You know I've always had a thing for powerful, intelligent women."
"Speaking of, I have a meeting in ten minutes with the Wizengamot but if you stay, we can do a lunch date," Hermione offered.
"Mathilda's?" he asked, interlacing his fingers with hers. "You know how fond I am of mediocre tea."
"Mathilda's." She confirmed with a smile, squeezing his hand softly. "So you'll stay?"
He pretended to think for a moment before raising her knuckles to his mouth for a kiss, repeating his favourite words his wife ever said to him. "I'll stay."