Yours in Mayhem |Dramione

26 five years post hogwarts: nineteenth letter

To Mister and Missus Ronald Bilius Weasley

I would like to extend my congratulations to you on this joyous day. May your marriage be forever fruitful and your love last for all the days to come.

Yours truly,

Draco Lucius Malfoy

Head of Ministry of Magic Internal Liaisons Committee, Governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, CEO of Malfoy Corporation and Monopoly, et al.

Hermione Weasley shook her head with a smile at the note obviously penned by a secretary. Malfoy and his pompous arse could not be bothered. Perhaps his secretary saw the announcement of her marriage to Ron in the Prophet and find it in her good heart to send her boss's congratulations to them, knowing that they were classmates back when they attended Hogwarts. Hermione pities the person who sent the note because even with the best intentions, Malfoy will not be pleased.

Or he could be because he got a chance to showoff all his titles. His collection nowadays, instead of witches who wear short, ill- fitting robes.

But nothing can spoil her mood for today.

She opened the window just a bit bigger to let in the magnificent eagle owl that delivered the letter to the kitchen. She gave it ham pieces but it only picked at it while making disapproving noises before flying away. Looks like has pretty expensive taste, quite like its master.

Still in her dressing robes she had snuck out of the bedroom of their brand new house to go to the kitchen. She's planning to surprise her husband with breakfast in bed; it will, after all, be the first meal they will eat in their new home. Two storey high, has a vegetable garden in the front and small tea table and lounge at the back, all guarded with hedges of orange roses. It was located in the edge of London, not crowded but not completely cut off from civilization either.

Just perfect.

She heard stirring from the bedroom upstairs followed by the padding of footsteps down on the carpeted floor. "'Mione, won't you come back to bed?"

"No, I'm making tea and you will drink it like you love it," she said with her back to him. She can't resist his morning appearance in addition to his much lower than usual morning voice. He doesn't usually wear a shirt when he gets up from bed and it shows off the muscles that he gained from upholding justice as an Auror-- and she knows that it only gets better. The sprinkled faded sunspots on his tanned skin matches hers and she'd like to kiss each and everyone of them. The ones on his face, on his back, his chest...

"But I don't like tea," he grumbled against her neck, sending tingles down her spine, "I want something else." His hands snaked around her waist, long fingers entering her robe. She was wearing nothing beneath the robe and her husband's fingers were buzzing with magic as they made their way across the skin on her abdomen and then upwards to her breasts. Her attention was barely on the tea now as she gasped at how his fingers started playing with the rosy peaks of her breasts.

"Malfoy," she moaned.

"What?" Ron snapped as he pulled his hand away from her robe.

"Oh," Hermione was shocked too when she accidentally blurted the letter sender's name. "I mean, Draco Malfoy sent us a congratulations card. Or maybe his assistant did." She bit her lip, it was awkward. Awkward moments between them had been rare from practically growing up together. She almost don't know how to handle them.

"Grimy polluted son of a-"

"Not in our house," Hermione interrupted as she tightened her robes and turned back to making tea.

She heard Ron scowl as she continued fixing their cups with magic, no longer feeling as relaxed. It's as if Malfoy had somehow planned to vex them both on their first day as husband and wife and it worked. Godric, it worked.

"SON OF A CROSS EYED, BOW LEGGED, INBRED WHORE!"

She almost whacked Ron in the side of the head with his uncalled for scream of profanity if it weren't for his now bleeding hand. Ron opened the kitchen window and threw what looked like black seeds out, mixed with his sticky red blood. They never saw where the seeds landed. He closed back the window with another mumble of profanities. "Immature bastard. I'd get him yet, I tell you," he breathed through gritted teeth.

Hermione remembered how it was back in school with their house rivalry with Malfoy's house. It was nostalgic, she can't help but plant a soft kiss on her husbands tall, freckled nose. "Don't get angry. It's barely morning." She murmured healing spells on his wounded hand as he watched her. He smelled of traces of peppermint, it mixed so naturally with her favorite scents-- tea and parchments.

"Don't tell me what to do, woman," he said fondly, touching her cheek softly. He leaned forward to give her a soft kiss on the lips, it was just as a sweet as the first time. They both smiled at the kiss.

Hermione sighed. "Isn't that what you signed up for yesterday?"

"Make me remember?" He said against her neck, already sweeping her off her feet and carrying her in his arms. She yelped into his chest, giggling happily.

"Ronald Weasley, put me down this instant!"

But both of them know that she didn't mean it. The door closed behind them so quickly that neither saw the flowers that started to grow on the kitchen window to their garden. The blood red thorned flowers are trying to mingle with the orange roses, creeping ever so slowly and trying to nudge in between the open spaces. The very ones that Hermione Weasley was looking for but had to settle for orange roses because she had been told that what she wanted was extinct.

Ronald Weasley will take a walk in the backyard later that afternoon to take a piss while Hermione is taking a shower in their houses only bathroom. He will then see the red thorned flowers, invaders to his perfect orange garden and will cut and burn every single one. Never to be seen by his wife. Just so he will never hear her say that she has been right that they were not extinct.

If only she did...

Hermione Jean Granger Weasley would have remembered one of the happiest moments of her fourth year.

Hermione Jean Granger Weasley could have made a connection between it and a certain pointy faced man.

Hermione Jean Granger Weasley had missed more than she intended just by taking that fateful shower.

And maybe that was just as well.
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GUYS! OMG you guys! This was ranked #711 in fanfiction last Monday, I think? I'm not sure but I think it was Monday. This is a pretty shite chapter to say my thanks at but guys thank you so much for the support!

Song up top is 'Lucky Guy' by David Choi. I love me some David Choi. :')

Dedicated to the wonderful @k2swis for her kind words and Dramione recommendations! I hope to be able to read more fanfictions! Or to have time to simply read more before getting overwhelmed with stuff. *sighlife*

Guys, 12.5K reads though and 1k plus stars! That's like a lot of solar systems! All thanks to you awesome people. I'll see you all this weekend!