Together

December 3, 2006

Draco's cool, crisp voice cut through the air, making Hermione look up from Percy's report. She'd been so engrossed in reading that the words Draco spoke took a moment to sink into her brain. But when they did, she narrowed her eyes at her husband and glared.

"What do you mean she'll be here in a few minutes? The ceremony is not until dusk. It's not even eight in the morning!"

He shrugged, looking as unruffled as he typically did outside of the bedroom. "I'm not sure, but she sent an owl saying she'd be here at seven-thirty to, and I quote, 'assist with any and all preparations', whatever she means by that."

" What preparations? We're merely lighting the second advent candle! We set everything up last week! You know, when she decided to arrive at five in the bloody morning to help setup! All we have to do is get dressed! What is she planning?!?" Hermione's hands were beginning to shake with anger. She'd had a long week and last night had been the Mosscairn Christmas Open House. An event she loved, but it was still a huge strain. Especially after the death threats she'd been getting all week. And then there had been the cursed items under the tree...

No, she wasn't going to think about those. Percy was handling that. Strengthening the protections on the academy.

She was exhausted and had been looking forwards to a quiet and relaxing Sunday. A Sunday that she could spend with only her husband.

Draco had the grace to look contrite. "I'm sorry, love. But you know how my mother is. And how she—"

Hermione let out a small yell of frustration and heaved herself to her feet, the discomfort of standing only adding to her anger. "Don't! Don't remind me that your mother has never liked me! How she dreamed of marrying you off to some idiotic pureblood princess and not a brilliant muggle-born! I don't need this right now!" She let out another little scream of frustration and took a step, preparing to storm out of the room and head upstairs and change. There was no way she was going to let her mother-in-law catch her still in her dressing gown.

Last Sunday had been bad enough.

But, before she could take a second step the little being inside of her decided to show their own anger by giving a very healthy kick. She gasped and bent over, cradling her stomach.

Draco was beside her in a moment, his arms coming around her and sweeping her off her feet. "Hermione, are you alright?"

The little being gave another kick and she winced, but it was much easier to bear when she wasn't trying to stay balanced on her feet. Plus, Draco holding her always made pain easier to handle.

It also helped her regain control of her temper.

"Yes, but I need to get dressed. Your mother can't see me like this."

"Of course."

He didn't let go of her, carrying her carefully across the room, into the hall, and up the stairs to their bedroom. His long, graceful strides covering ground much faster than her current awkward waddle. He set her down carefully on the edge their massive bed.

"Anything in particular you want to wear?"

She shook her head, "No, just pick something that won't make your mother sniff in disgust. I don't think I can handle that right now."

He chuckled wryly and gave her a light kiss before walking over to her wardrobe. "Can you ever handle it? I seem to remember you once threatening to set a flock of birds on her. My little cat has quite the claws."

She snorted in annoyance, but didn't do more than that. Of course, he was right. Once she'd quit her job at the Ministry and started planning Mosscairn School for Elementary Magical Education she'd refused to take insults from anyone. Even thinly veiled ones from the mother of the man she loved.