His Veela Heritage by RiverWriter

chapter 20

Hermione was nervously pacing her bedroom trying to decide if she wanted to shake her husband- who was clinging to her like a limpet- off or sink into his embrace, when the doorbell rang.

They had eventually pulled themselves out of bed and returned to Hermione’s apartment so that she could get ready for her birthday dinner with her friends. Neither of them had been particularly happy about it. And whoever was at the door was early, which was annoying. She could sense that Draco felt the same way, though he really should have been gone by now; he was going to dine with his parents and tell them their news.

“Should I leave?” he murmured, even as he held her closer, obviously reluctant to part from her, which was why he was still here- she wasn’t any better, she could already tell it was going to be a long night without him.

“No,” she said firmly, “we’re done hiding, aren’t we?”

She felt him nod against her shoulder and she made her way to the front door. He took a step back and gave her room to check the peep-hole and open the door.

“It’s Neville,” she whispered, “and he’s alone.” Hermione thought that was odd because he would normally arrive with Hannah, and probably Susan too. She opened the door and smiled at him in welcome, “Hi, Neville! Thank you for coming!”

“Happy birthday Hermione!” he immediately swept her into his arms. When he stepped back she saw his eyes flick to a place over her shoulder where she assumed he could see Draco standing, he didn’t seem to be surprised, “Malfoy,” he greeted, with little hesitation.

She stepped back to stand at Draco’s side and he wrapped one arm around her waist.

“Longbottom,” he said in return, and stuck his hand out.

Hermione held her breath but Neville didn’t make her wait, he immediately took the proffered hand, and shook it.

“You don’t seem surprised to see Draco here,” she began. There was no point in evading the issue.

Neville smiled softly. “That’s because I’m not.”

She felt her eyes go wide in surprise.

“Perhaps we should have a seat,” Draco suggested, leading her into the living room with a hand at the small of her back.

When they were settled Neville cleared his throat, he was starting to look uncomfortable. “Hannah encouraged me to come, I didn’t want to intrude, but she was adamant that we should talk before everyone arrived tonight.”

“Okay,” Hermione said hesitantly but motioned for him to continue.

He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat again, it was so reminiscent of the boy who had been terrified of their potions professor that she almost wanted to go and give him a reassuring hug. But she knew what he was truly capable of; he didn’t need her to do that.

“You know how I help out in Magical Blossoms in my free time?” he said, addressing Hermione.

She nodded; Magical Blossoms was the premier florist in Diagon Alley. While Neville currently worked as an Auror and was determined to remain in that position until they rounded up the last of the Death Eaters on the Ministry’s ‘Most Wanted’ list, his true passion was herbology, and he wanted to obtain a mastery in the subject. Working in a florist shop kept him in touch and up to date with foreign flora he couldn’t grow in his own gardens, and she knew that Neville’s tender heart went out to the elderly widower who ran the shop. His eyes shifted to look at Draco.

“I promise I don’t make it a habit of invading customers’ privacy, but you’re a well known wizard, I couldn’t help but notice when you came in and started ordering ornate arrangements, I also couldn’t help but notice when those same arrangements appeared in my friend’s office at work.”