wind - Dramione

12

"Ron!" Hermione happily called into the apartment, hanging her coat on the back of the door, "Ron, I'm home! I'm sorry I'm late, love. I've been super busy with new cases..."

Her husband sat on the couch with an expressionless face, stinking of booze.

"Ron?"

He took an unceremoniously violent swig of what appeared to be firewhiskey or beer, or something that had an odor on par with hand sanitizer, slamming the glass down on the coffee table before looking over at her with drooping eyes.

"Heard you were cozying up to Malfoy at work," he slurred, standing and walking toward her unsteadily.

"Ron, it's not like that. You're my husband, and I love you, and I would never do anything of the sort!"

"Quiet!" he shouted, pointing a finger in her face. He shifted to a softer tone, with just as much malice, "You lied to me. You told me he wasn't working and you LIED!"

"No, baby, I didn't. He isn't working, I swear, I just came into the office because he left his jacket, I swear," she rushed toward him, caressing his face in her hands, pleading with him with her eyes.

She could've sworn she saw his eyes soften before they turned hard at diamonds. Hermione started to back up, anything to increase distance between her and her husband. A shoe behind her caused her to stumble backward, giving him an opportunity to raise his fist.

***

Draco heard shuffling above him. It only took him a split second to dart toward the door and scurry up the stairs, pounding down Hermione's door to find her husband about to swipe his fist across her face.

He reached his arm around to grab Hermione's and pulled her behind him, her wrist sheathed tightly in his hand.

"What?" he shouted, his facial expression set in stone, "You gonna hit her? She's your wife, damn it!"

Ron stumbled into the kitchen, lazily grabbed a knife and charged at Draco sloppily.

"Ron, no!" Hermione pushed herself in front of Draco who wasn't expecting pressure from behind and fell to the floor

Her husband faltered for a moment, seemingly realizing what he was doing. He was really holding a knife to his wife. His wife who he swore to protect and love at the altar. In front of all of his friends, his family, dead and alive, was he really about to break his vow? After four years? What was he doing? He slowly made way to bring his hand to his side and let the knife fall from his hand. Hermione, still frozen with fear, could see tears forming in his eyes. It pulled on her heart strings. She begged to reach out for him as he leaned toward her before Draco gently touched the soft side of her elbow, guiding her behind him once more; she allowed him to steer her with ease, trusting him completely, regardless of her feeling to collapse into her husband's arms. Hermione knew Draco was doing the best thing for her.

"You homewrecker! Let go of my wife!" Ron shouted, storming toward Draco, ready to kill.

He threw one punch, blood pouring from Draco's nose as Ron grabbed Draco's shoulders, attempting to bring his head to his knee, but Draco anticipated this. He pulled his head out of the pocket made by their bodies and brought his fist to Ron's gut. Ron promptly fell to his knees in a coughing fit when Draco kicked him to the floor.

Hermione didn't react in the slightest. She didn't flinch. She didn't cry out. All she did was reach out, her fingertips only just gracing his back, sending shivers up his spine as she slowly bunched up the fabric of his shirt, pulling him toward her.

"Draco..." she whispered softly, he could hear the tenderness in her voice, along with the panic, "Come on..."

He sniffled, wiping the blood from his nose with his entire arm, once again holding tightly to Hermione's wrist. He bent over to Ronald's cowering figure and mustered up as much venom and malice as possible.