The Marriage Decree

Chapter 133: I'm Here of My Own Volition

Both Hermione and Draco were busier than they would have expected during the rest of May while still being on family leave. Most mornings, the young family enjoyed breakfast at a café in the centre of Diagon Alley, conveniently opposite Knockturn Alley. They would people-watch as they ate and make notes of anyone who matched a Death Eater codenames. Their afternoons consisted of meetings with Draco's agents, which were just his Slytherin friends and some of their partners, conversations with President Harris in MACUSA, and lesson planning in preparation for the next academic year.

Therefore, when invitations to the Ministry of Magic's Marriage Anniversary Dinner arrived a week before the end of May, they realised they had forgotten to organise their own Anniversary Dinner. In a large scale panic, Hermione enlisted the help of Ginny, Luna and Mitty to help plan everything. With Luna being back in the country, Hermione realised just how foolish it was of her to think her friend could ever have been involved with the Death Eaters. She was probably still shaken by Dennis' betrayal that she was accusing everyone.

Nevertheless, the four of them managed to pull the whole dinner off within the week. Almost as soon as Hermione owled out their own invitations, they began receiving replies from people excited to attend what had become known as the 'anti-ministry dinner'.

The morning of the first of June, Hermione awakens her husband with a cup of tea and a gift-wrapped box.

"You said we weren't doing presents," Draco says accusatory, trying to sit up and clear his mind from sleep.

"I know we did, but I saw this, and it was perfect," Hermione grins, excitedly sitting beside him, urging Draco to open the gift.

"Alright," Draco yawns, finger-brushing his long hair out of his face, taking a sip of his tea and handing the cup over to Hermione. "Let's see," he mutters, tearing the folded wrapping paper.

Beneath the paper is a velvet box. Draco narrows his eyes, "I hope you didn't spend too much on me," he warns.

Hermione shakes her head, brushing his warning away, "It is my own money, and if I choose to spend it on you, that is no concern of yours." She assures him.

Draco smiles, removing the lid from the box to reveal what appears to be a silver pocket watch. A glance up at Hermione shows a look of confusion on his face.

"Open it," she nods eagerly.

Draco opens the pocket watch up, but instead of finding a clock face, he finds the face of his son, grinning his gummy smile back at him with his gorgeous light brown eyes sparkling. He remembers when the picture had been taken in Central Park while on their holiday to New York.

"Thank you," he says softly, blinking quickly to keep the tears away. "I love it." Draco pulls his wife in for a tight hug. "I love you," he adds, gently kissing her as his hands wander down her leg, pulling her over to straddle his hips.

"Draco," she whispers, kissing below his ear. "We don't have time for this."

"We have all the time in the world," he assures her.

"We need to set up the garden before the guests arrive at three o'clock," she reminds him, her breath catching as his hand slides beneath her dressing gown.

"And what time is it now?" He asks.

"Eleven o'clock."

"Plenty of time to celebrate," he sits up abruptly, sending Hermione falling backwards onto the bed. "Unless you are sincerely opposed to such a celebration," he raises his hands, hovering them mere millimetres above her flesh.

Hermione's head falls back against the bed with a deep sigh, "Don't stop," she mutters, her hands moving to unfasten her dressing gown, but Draco's hands gently push them away, wanting to unwrap her himself.