Ending The Sacred Twenty-Eight (Dramione)

Thursday

Thursday morning

Draco had barely sat on his chair inside his office at the Malfoy Enterprises building when his assistant entered the room with a stack of papers for him to read and a list of meetings he would have day.

He lowered his head to the documents and let his work responsibilities help him forget the mess his private life was.

He had been writing to Hermione daily since Tuesday - twice on Wednesday. But not once had she replied.

He knew she was getting the letters and reading them for she had asked him about the Headmaster's voting the previous afternoon. But the lack of a written response was worrying him.

The sound of the door being opened again interrupted his musings, and he looked up to see who was walking in, unannounced.

"Good morning, son."

"Morning, mother."

Narcissa walked to him and kissed his forehead before going to sit on the sofa in the sitting area of the office to the left of Draco's desk, she had had that area redesigned recently, hiring a designer to make it exactly as she wanted. It was the perfect space to talk to business partners, and the sofa was comfy enough for a nap.

"What brings you here this morning?" Draco asked, still looking at his papers.

"I'm on my way to buy my grandkids some gifts and then I'll have lunch with Hermione and check on some last details for the Ball."

He smiled, "More gifts? What are you getting them now?"

"Some toys." she replied with a similar smile. "But what I came here to ask you, love, is how are things between you and Hermione? How is your plan to earn her forgiveness going?"

Draco grimaced and sighed, dropping his quill on his desk.

"You do have a plan, don't you?" Narcissa insisted.

"I have already apologized, mother, more than once." he sighed. "I've made love to her, apologized again... I've sent her letters that she doesn't reply to; I told her she's the only woman I want by my side and that I won't give up on her and our kids... and yet she refuses to forgive me and end that sham with Weasley."

"You have sixteen days, Draco!" Said Narcissa with urgency in her tone. "She'll marry Weasley on the nineteenth!"

"I know!" he replied, his heart pounding at the thought of his beloved marrying someone else. "Have you made it your mission to make sure I'm constantly on the verge of an anxiety attack, mother?"

"No. My mission is to make sure my grandkids don't grow up calling Molly Weasley 'grandma'!" she nearly shouted, standing up and storming out of the office.

Draco held his head on his hands, regret filling every fibre of his being; he didn't know what else to do to make Hermione see he loved her and had never been ashamed of her.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're needed on the fifth floor, sir." he heard the voice of his assistant and raised his head to look at her at the door.

"Are you ok, sir?" the sweet woman asked, concerned. "Do you need anything?"

"No, Mrs. Garret." Draco said, standing up and going to the door, looking at the woman that he knew since he was five for she had been his father's assistant. She was a nice woman who always had candy and colouring books in her desk for him when he was a kid. "Unless you have advice to give me regarding gaining the attentions of a proud and brilliant witch I've upset."

The woman smiled softly, "Attitudes, Mr. Malfoy. Make it clear she's it for you with your attitudes." She tilted her head. "Considering this witch is it for you."