The only sound in the lonesome apartment over rain-frequented city was the scratching of a pencil accompanied by an occasional flutter of a page. The raindrops, beating their nonsensical rhythm on the windows, acted as his music. A beat to keep him working on his case file.
Suddenly, his perfect, work-indulged silence was interrupted when the loud noise of keys in the door shook him from his thoughts. The door pushed open, a sopping wet brunette coming in.
"That damned rain," she muttered, pulling a shoe off only to watch as a good amount of water poured from it onto the wooden floor. "Great."
"And how was your dinner with Luna, darling?" Draco asked, looking up from his desk at his wife.
"It was great, really," replied Hermione in a low voice as she pulled her coat off to hang on the rack.
"I heard it start to rain, but I knew you would enjoy the rain for most of the walk. I also knew that by the time you got back, you would be annoyed with how it got you wet. Your favorite pajama pants and one of my sweaters are in the dryer, waiting for you, along with your favorite towel and your God-awful Christmas socks. There's a mug of hot chocolate on the counter, as well."
"You know me too well," Hermione mumbled, wringing a strand of thick, wavy hair out.
"Please don't make a pond over there," Draco called, looking back at his case. "I just cleaned."
He heard her huff, walking into the laundry room. He also heard each of her wet clothes hit the ground with an unsatisfying slap. He shook it from his mind, taking out his wand to summon a book from the library. It might've had information to solve his case.
A few minutes later, his wife was beside him again. He looked up, a smile taking on his features without permission. She looked ever-so adorable in his big sweater, oversized plaid pajama pants, outdated 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer' socks, and her thick hair piled on her head in a rather becoming fashion. Her makeup had been removed, a thick layer of freckles and pink lips left behind.
"Aren't you coming to bed?" she asked, yawning and covering her mouth.
Draco chuckled. "No love, I have work to do. I'll be there soon, alright?"
Hermione pouted, crossing her arms. He just sighed, shaking his head at her stubbornness, and turned back around. Soon enough, she was crawling into the big chair, wrapping around him like a little koala. Her legs bent on either side of his, her feet pushing against him to get warm. Her arms wrapped around his torso, fastening around his back like a buckle. While she lay her head down in the juncture between his shoulder and his neck, he rest his on her own shoulder.
"Is this really comfortable for you?" he drawled, sarcasm lacing his voice.
"Yes, it bloody well is, so shut it," she snapped, burying her head back in his neck. He felt her slightly kiss his pulse as an apology, so his hand slipped back under her sweater to rub that muscle she always complained over.
"My apologies, darling," Draco replied, a soft chuckle slipping from his lips. He continued to sit in his office chair, his fiancee wrapped around his torso, to work. Her warm breath fanned against his neck, making him shiver just a little. Soon enough, her short breaths fell even and deep, signalling the sleep that had pulled her lids shut.
He smiled to himself, finally setting his pencil down. He positioned her legs around his waist, getting up to he could carry her into their bedroom.
It was much like carrying a five-year-old to bed with how strong Draco was. Even though Hermione was at a good height and a healthy weight, Draco was still a foot taller and muscled from years of Auror work.
He laid her down on the sheet, pulling the comforter over her frame. He slipped right back into bed beside her, smiling when she immediately turned toward the warmth his body offered hers. She tossed a leg over his own, his hips cradling her knee, and her arm around his torso. His arm, in turn, slipped around her shoulders, and his lips lightly kissed her forehead.
"Goodnight, my darling," he whispered.
"G'night."
