Ending The Sacred Twenty-Eight (Dramione)

Wednesday

Wednesday

Hermione woke up early and stretched in bed, feeling more energy than she had felt the previous months. At thirteen weeks pregnant she started to feel good about the pregnancy as a whole. She wasn’t as scared as she was at first about raising two (possibly) blond-haired kids who in nothing resembled her or the Weasleys.

Actually, she had thought about that and now that Draco knew the whole truth, she didn’t see the point in marrying Charlie anymore.

The twins would have her last name and she would protect them from gossip as much as she could.

After all, gossip would follow her and them whether she married Charlie or not. That was part of her life already.

Hermione wrapped her arms around the pillow beside her and inhaled, savouring the scent of expensive male cologne that still lingered.

Draco’s letter had affected her a little; all in all, it had made her realize that if she didn’t find it in her heart to forgive him, they’d never be able to move forward – and, since she could see he was honest in his feelings for her, she had no doubt she wanted to move forward with him.

She forced herself to let go of his pillow and get out of bed, getting ready to go to work and walking to the kitchen, finding another letter on the table – where breakfast, surprisingly, already waited for her.

I’m sorry. – it said on the outside again.

She sat on the chair, looking from the letter to the food in front of her.

Leave it to Draco to mean it when he says he’ll apologize daily. But how is he getting here to-

“Eli.” She whispered, realizing she had blocked Draco from the floo and from the apparition, but Eli was an elf – blocking an elf from apparating took different wards.

She took a bite of the flaky croissant and let out a soft moan – it was amazing – and then she opened the letter:

Good morning, my love

Hope you slept well and find the breakfast to your liking.

This afternoon I have to attend a Governors' Board meeting to decide on the next Hogwarts Headmaster. Apparently, McGonagall is thinking of retiring and has requested us to appoint her successor.

Can you imagine Hogwarts without Minerva McGonagall?

I would love to hear your opinion on the matter.

Have a great day.

I dreamed of you, Scorpius and Lyra last night. It was a perfect dream.

Love,

Draco.

Hermione sipped from the steaming cup of latte in front of her, nearly moaning again – it was freaking delicious – and thought about what she had read.

McGonagall is leaving Hogwarts?

Wow.

She wanted to pick up parchment and a quill and reply to Draco, ask him who were the professors the Governors were thinking for the Headmaster position, but she stopped.

She knew what he was doing, he was engaging her mind, trying to make her reply to him and...

And what? She wondered, putting the letter on the table and finishing her breakfast. If she replied to him, what would happen?

He'd see it as an invitation to keep wooing me.

But would he stop if she didn't reply?

She knew he wouldn't; he had said he’d apologize daily, and that was what he was doing.