I wrote this several months ago around the time of my anniversary and then proceeded to forget about it. So, before I forget again, here is it.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco Malfoy was not moping.

He wasn't.

He was merely shredding the tassels of a parlor cushion and scheming listlessly.

And, possibly, sighing quietly to himself from time to time.

An entirely normal occupation for a former Slytherin slightly prone to dramatics.

He was not moping.

Narcissa Malfoy wafted by and Draco guiltily repaired the cushion tassels he had mangled before she could see.

He was possibly moping a little.

Just a touch.

Perhaps a lot.

Generally speaking he was not one who moped. However his wife had an unprecedented ability to bring out the most embarrassing aspects of his personality.

The reason for his despondency was as followed: Hermione Granger and he had been married for one year and eleven months and thirty days.

While other, lesser wizards might be in a state of consternation over anniversary gifts involving a creative use of cotton, Draco's dilemma was more severe and worrisome in nature.

Their marriage had been something of an accident, involving an old library, an Opaleye, a dimensional containment ward, and some very pushy sentient magic… all of which to say, Draco's problem was that the marriage bond which had joined them was set to expire on their two year anniversary

Draco had tried broaching the subject in a variety of subtle methods over the course of the last six months. He knew Hermione did not particularly like large weddings, so he had offhandedly mentioned a range of smaller venues, remote locations, and various schemes of elopement.

He had proposed going to Australia and eloping with her obliviated parents as witnesses. He mentioned every library they had yet to visit both Magical and Muggle. And all the libraries she had liked best that they had already been too. He even brought up the option of going to the Vatican Library and confundusing a Cardinal into marrying them.

All proposals which his wife had snorted and dismissed as though he were making terrible jokes. None of which seemed to catch her fancy at all. And recently she had looked increasingly irritated with him whenever he brought up the subject.

The final blow had been the week before when, giving up on libraries altogether, he mentioned at least going on a trip together. Sailing about the Mediterranean in a sailboat (canvas being made of cotton). She had sighed, rolled her eyes slightly, talked about her workload, and reminded him that he was due in Alexandria that weekend to re-ward all his ancestral books.

At that point his heart had dropped past his toes and continued on in the general direction of the earth's molten core where it proceeded to burn to ash.

Right.

Alexandria for re-warding.

He had dropped the subject after that and spent the last week obsessively reliving the last two years of his marriage; trying to place exactly where it had gone wrong.

It wasn't the sex. It remained fantastic if he did say so himself. And Hermione hadn't issued any complaints. She was generally quite uninhibited when it came to informing him of exactly what she wanted in the event he hadn't already managed to reduce her to an incoherent state of arousal. She tended to be very sweet and kittenish afterward, and liked to fall asleep curled around him so tightly he occasionally wondered if she were part starfish.

So it wasn't the sex.

He didn't think it was the talking. Although she was capable of provoking nervous monologues from him to a degree no one else could compare to. He'd once recited the seating arrangements of Theo and Pansy Nott's five hundred wedding guests to her. He had mostly stopped rambling around her. However, on occasion, when he was worried that he'd upset her, he would start going on and on. So lately it had been slightly more of an issue.

He didn't think he'd done anything to upset her. But maybe he had. He kept going over all their interactions until he was questioning their entire marriage.

So now he was seated in the manor parlor, reshredding a cushion tassel for the umpteenth time while he waited for his portkey to activate and take him to Egypt. Where he would spend his weekend re-warding books while his wife remained in England and their marriage dissolved itself.

He had thought—

Well, he had thought Hermione would at least say goodbye.

But that morning she'd merely pecked him on his cheek and wished him well before floo'ing to work in a distracted manner. She had been quite distracted with work for the last several weeks.

Now that she was gone he wished he'd just asked her upfront whether she wanted to stay married. He'd never come right out and asked because he was afraid he'd go all the pieces if she said no.

Going to pieces was something else Hermione Granger had the unique ability to evoke from him, along with moping and rambling.

He had thought that if he could just come up with some trip that could spark interest in her eyes that then he could use it as a segway into begging her not to leave him.

But he hadn't even managed that.

Maybe two years was the best he could hope for.

He was, after all, a former Death Eater who just mooned over her and—according to every single friend, acquaintance, and even his own father—was "utterly whipped." All he had going for him were looks, an unique talent for memorization, and a complete and utter willingness to shag her anywhere and in any manner she happened to desire.

Because of course he would go and fall for a witch who was entirely unimpressed by his pristine bloodlines, extensive estate, and massive Gringott's vault.

And she was—

Well, she was Hermione Granger. War heroine. Brightest witch her age (or any other age for that matter). Unspeakable. And aside from all that, an absolute minx in the bedroom and generally just splendid and brilliant and divine...

Oh Merlin, he was whipped. He was never going to get over her. She had fallen into his arms—or dimensional containment ward (if one worried about semantics, which he did)—but somehow he'd bollocked it up and now he was on the verge of losing her and he hadn't the foggiest idea what to do.

He still wasn't clear how he'd managed to win her the first time around, so he was at loss as to how he could manage it again.

All he had to look forward to now was a lifetime of keen regret and alcoholism.

His portkey pinged to announce its activation. After looking to the floo once more with diminishing hope, he picked up his bag and headed to Alexandria.

He felt like setting something on fire the moment he landed. The whole library was just brimming with memories that felt bitter.

He steeled himself and stared up at Ignatius Pigglesworth and the stodgy woman standing beside him.

"Mr Malfoy, good to see you again," Ignatius greeted him. "We are hopeful that this re-warding will pass without any mishaps."

Draco nodded without a word.

"This is Elvira Smithkins who will be re-warding with you today."

Draco gave her a faint nod of greeting. She was almost as tall as him with small rounded features, watery blue eyes, a severe bun, and very generously portioned—proportions.

"This way, Mr Malfoy," Elvira instructed in a gravelly tone, turning on her heel and leading him down the hallway to the first room. She sashayed her portly hips slightly in front of him in a way that Draco found extremely discomfiting.

As they started re-warding and Elvira immediately began questioning him.

"So, you're the famous Mr Malfoy who got married here, aren't you?"

"Yes. Two years ago tomorrow," he said in a subdued tone as he cast and recast and recast the warding spell on one book after another.

"It's the first story anyone hears when they come. 'Watch out when warding or you might find yourself married.' Not the orientation I was expecting when I arrived," she said and then chuckled faintly. "You were a librarian here too, weren't you?"

"For a short-time," he said, "being a descendant I was able to pull some strings and get an abbreviated assignation."

"Why?"

"My wife was here," he said.

"Oh yes, Hermione Granger." Elvira's lips curled slightly as she said the name, immediately earning herself Draco's eternal loathing. "Any plans for your anniversary?"

"Apparently not," Draco said and wished devoutly that the floor would swallow him if it would stop the conversation he could feel himself walking into.

He cast the re-warding spell more quickly in the hope of leaving the irritating librarian. Elvira just cast more quickly too.

"Trouble in paradise?" Elvira inquired, looking over at him with a curious expression.

Draco ground his jaw and weighed just how much trouble he'd get in if he hexed the witch beside him. One tiny, permanent hex would not be too much of a violation. Given the quantity of books he re-warded, Alexandria would have to get over it.

"No," he said in a cold voice, hoping the ice in his tone would silence her.

She glanced over at him.

He stared at the book in front of him and felt the magic crackling at his fingertips.

"The marriage bond was only made to last for two years. We won't be married tomorrow," he finally said.

There was a pause.

"Ah. Well, it was an accident. I'm sure you'll both be happy to put yourselves back on the market. Monogamy can be rather constraining for some." Elvira simpered.

The book Draco was supposed to be re-warding burst into the flames. He blanched, extinguished it rapidly, and continued re-warding.

While he was so diverted he felt something leaning against him and looked over to find Elvira pressing her body against his side.

He glared at her.

"Get off before I make you," he snarled. He was going to have to burn his robes.

She pouted and straightened.

"I thought you had a thing for libraries," she said, sounding put off.

He stared icily at her and she continued, "Everyone said you and your 'wife' were just shameless in here. And, the library world is rather small, so we've all heard about when you were caught in Stockholm and shocked the poor head librarian so excessively she spontaneously transfigured herself into a giant squid."

Draco flushed and started casting wards even faster.

The Stockholm incident had been rather spectacularly awful. Hermione had been horrified for weeks.

Draco had always been extremely careful. He always cast an overabundance of privacy wards and repelling charms before cornering Hermione; even some that, strictly speaking, were rather illegal, just to make sure they were never caught. But Stockholm had employed a dark artifact that had alerted to head librarian to intruding magic. They had been caught. There had been an unbelievable scene. They had been banned. For life.

Draco had bribed a lot of people in order to hush the incident, but it had obviously still managed to get out.

He ground his jaw.

Elvira was still somehow keeping up with his casting and giving him long looks through her stubby lashes.

At least she was being quiet. Draco was not going to complain.

The silence lasted all of thirty seconds.

"So, fess up, don't you have a thing for libraries?" Elvira asked.

"Not particularly," Draco said.

He never wanted to set foot in another library if he could help it. He never wanted to come back to Alexandria again.

"Really? Just being in here doesn't—awaken you? Even a little?" she asked in her gravelly voice using a slightly cajoling tone.

"I had a thing for my wife," he said in a flat voice.

How fast could the blasted witch cast? She was impossible to shake.

"Oh," was all Elvira said and she looked suddenly thoughtful.

There was a long silence after that and Draco used it to glance with despair around the room which he and Hermione had first re-warded together.

They had also shagged there a dozen times. Memories which Draco remembered even more vividly than he generally recalled things.

He found himself sorely desiring a stiff drink. Several, in fact. He wondered if Alexandria had any policies against drinking while re-warding. He didn't remember there being any. Although he'd alway tended to abuse the rules rather blatantly anyway.

He should have abused them more.

He hasn't shagged Hermione in Alexandria nearly as much as he'd wanted to. She was horribly tricky to catch even when she was giving him opportunities to do so. With all the privacy wards he had to cast, on many occasions he'd get half of them in place and then someone would walk in and the chance would be lost.

His wand stilled mid-spell as he suddenly froze.

He had always been extremely careful.

He had cast a multiplicity of wards.

Even illegal ones to ensure that they were never caught.

There was no fucking way that anyone in Alexandria knew how "shameless" he and Hermione had been there.

He dropped a subtle glance down at Elvira who was still looking thoughtful as she rapidly cast wards beside him.

"You're right," he said after a few seconds. "Being back on the market will be rather enjoyable. Being here again makes me realise, the marriage bond was rather constraining. It will be nice to get out again."

Elvira started slightly and glanced up at him sharply before looking away while he mused and continued.

"Perhaps my mother still has a list of ideal witches lying around somewhere. Maybe someone with more traditional but versatile taste…"

Elvira's expression grew rather sour and puckered.

"So, what is it about singleness that you're most looking forward to re-embracing?" inquired Elvira after a while.

"The variety," he said with a leer.

Elvira's eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me, I need to use the loo," she said after a moment.

Draco glanced at his watch. They had been casting wards for less than half an hour.

"We're almost done in here," he pointed out blandly. "And we'll pass it on the way to the next room."

"I really must go now," she said looking toward the door in a slightly anxious and shifty manner.

Draco leaned against the bookshelf and stared at her.

"Is something wrong?" he asked with feigned concern.

"Oh, no," Elvira squeaked, her gravelly voice jumping an unexpected octave.

"You know," he said in a low voice, "when I first saw you I found you horrendously unattractive. But you have improved upon further acquaintance. I'm not technically single yet but if we take long enough with the re-warding perhaps you can join me in ushering in the next chapter of my life."

"Indeed?" she said with an unconcealed expression of disbelief.

The gravelly quality of Elvira's voice seemed suddenly more forced and the simpering had completely vanished. The roots of her hair were changing colour slightly.

"After two years of unsolicited monogamy practically anyone can catch my eye," he drawled, watching as Elvira bristled. "It wasn't as though my marriage was intentional or planned. I was not nearly done sowing my wild oats when I was unexpectedly espoused."

He sighed. Elvira fidgeted slightly and looked ready to combust or bolt. Before she could do either Draco quickly pulled the dowdy woman into his arms. Her eyes widened in shock as the space between them vanished.

Just before he pressed his lips against hers he muttered, "You are a cruel, cruel witch."

Then he proceeded to snog the unattractive woman quite aggressively. She shoved him away with an indignant gasp. He smirked at her as she stumbled away, becoming shorter and shorter as she collapsed against the bookshelf. Her dull, rounded features began sharpening and thinning. Her hair grew thicker and thicker until the severe bun exploded into a riot of uncontainable curls. And her watery blue eyes turned brown and enormous despite being narrowed and flashing with indignation.

"Draco Malfoy you are horrible," said Hermione Granger as she finally appeared before him, swimming in the oversized robes.

"I am horrible?" He scoffed. "Do you have any idea the emotional agony you have inflicted upon me the last several weeks?"

"Do you have any idea how many anniversary plans you have ruined in the last several months?" she asked crisply.

Her hair seemed to be positively electric but the intimidation of her outrage was lessened because the robes she was wearing had started slipping off one shoulder and exposing a lightly freckled shoulder and the skirt was threatening to slip entirely off her slender hips.

"I ruined our anniversary plans?" he choked.

"Yes!" she barked, putting her hands on her hips to hold her skirting up and glaring at him. "Every time I came up with an idea and started getting the details into order you'd go and bring up my very idea over breakfast or dinner, ruin it all and force me to start over again!"

Draco stared at her aghast.

"That is why you looked so irritated when I brought up the Admont Library?" he asked faintly.

"Yes! And the Vatican! And Atlantis! I have had to cancel on fifteen warlocks now!"

She was seething and Draco supposed it would be inappropriate to kiss her with relief at that particular moment.

She tossed her head and glared up at him.

"You always get to plan everything. I told you last year I wanted a chance to surprise you. And I thought you'd be willing to let our second anniversary alone and let me do it. But then you've had to go ruin all my plans by figuring them out and shoving that fact in my face like some kind of spiteful little cretin. I still don't even know how you did it! I had Harry and Ron post owls for me. I polyjuiced myself and used the international Floo network when I knew you were in meeting and you'd still blandly throw all my plans into my face within a few days. Did you put some kind of dark trace onto me? I went to five curse breakers and none of them could even find anything."

Oh dear. She was actually quite angry.

Draco was still flummoxed with relief.

"I didn't trace you. I wasn't trying to figure them out," he protested. "I was trying to plan our anniversary too."

Hermione stilled and stared up at him in astonishment. Draco ran his hand through his hair and gestured futilely.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to stay married. I thought if I could come up with an idea you liked, that it would be a context by which to ask. But every time I brought the subject up you dismissed the idea or looked annoyed. So—I started to think maybe you wanted me to realise we were done and were trying to spare me the conversation…" his voice trailed off.

"You idiot!" she gasped in outrage. "So what? You thought I was going to peck you on the cheek, send you the Alexandria and then move out while you were away?"

In retrospect the fear had perhaps been slightly implausible.

"I…" he said and his hands flailed slightly as he attempted to recover himself from the flood of relief and embarrassment he was currently caught in the midst of. "I didn't want to presume—and I was afraid to ask because I wasn't sure if I could handle it if I did and you said no."

Hermione dropped her hand over her eyes as though she couldn't bear to look at him.

"You are unbelievable," she muttered. She was still fuming and her hair was still crackling from all the indignation she was burning with. Draco drew closer anyway.

"How are you even here? How on earth did you get in?" he inquired, slightly concerning thought came to him. "Is there a librarian stuffed in a closet somewhere?"

Hermione drew her hand off her eyes to glare at him some more.

"Of course not," she said primly. "Once I realised that you were determined to ruin all of my surprises I decided that the best course of action would be to pretend to give up. I realised you probably would regard Alexandria as too predictable, so I got it all worked out with Ignatius to bend the rules a bit and let me in. My plan was to keep pretending to be Elvira until we passed to the history room and then use an illusion I made to make it appear like we'd accidentally fallen into a dimensional containment ward again. I assumed you'd be horrified and then I was going to surprise you by pulling down the illusion and boom, we'd actually be on a sailboat off Amalfi and tomorrow a Warlock would arrive to cast a new marriage bond and the portkey away and leave us to honeymoon for a month. But of course you had to ruin that too. How did you figure out it was me?"

Draco was struggling valiantly against the all-encompassing urge to shag Hermione where she stood but it was a losing battle.

"You knew far too much about our sex life to be anyone but my wife," he muttered closing in on her.

She blinked.

"Really?" she pouted as he captured her lips with his. She hummed slightly and wrapped her arms around him, snogging him ferociously with all her residual frustration over all the plans he'd unintentionally thwarted.

He started kissing his way along her jaw.

"I barely said anything though," she whined.

"Do you—have any—idea—," he asked as he pressed open mouthed kisses along her throat while he tangled his fingers in her hair, "how many—privacy wards—I cast before I shag you?"

"You do?" she gasped.

He withdrew slightly.

"I know you enjoy the thrill, but Stockholm clearly illustrated that exhibitionism is not your thing. So, yes, I am always very careful and it has probably cost me more opportunities of ravishing you than I care to realise," he said looking plaintive and tugging at the buttons of her oversized clothing.

"Oh…" she said and almost all the irritation in her expression had vanished. "You—I didn't know that.."

"I realised that, Elvira," he said with a smirk. With a final tug her clothing fell into a heap on the floor. Then he proceeded to drag her into his arms and snog her thoroughly against the bookshelf, sliding his hands over her delicate curves with a groan.

"So, you're not going to leave me?" he inquired between kisses.

"No, you great pillock," she said with an annoyed moan as his fingers slid up to palm her breasts and graze his thumb over her nipple the way she liked. "You have apparently not noticed, but I'm rather besotted with you."

"Well, I didn't want to presume," he said, still feeling mildly put out with her over the emotional turmoil she had inflicted upon him. Although it paled in comparison with the inferno of desire she was stoking as she slid her fingers along his shirt, popping the buttons open with astonishing rapidity. "Maybe you just liked me for my library access."

She stiffened and smacked him across the arm.

"I don't need you to access libraries," she scoffed, donning a sneer that was terrifyingly reminiscent of his own. "Do you really think I'm just using you for sex or something?"

She was getting extremely offended looking and her fingers had stilled from their disrobing.

Draco stilled.

"No…" he said slowly, staring down at her. "But the fact remains, we got married without your having any interest in me. Just because we could have fun and make the best of it for two years didn't necessarily indicate you would want to keep doing it forever."

Hermione arched a brow.

"So, what? You supposed I'd just take advantage of your feelings and shag you for two years to make the best of it?" she asked in a dangerous voice.

"No," he said quickly. "I know you care about me. I just—"

How could the same witch who prompted him to recite guest lists also reduce him to near incoherence?

He sighed in frustration and dropped his head atop hers.

"I spent the past several weeks becoming increasingly convinced that you didn't want to be married to me anymore. It's going to take a bit before I recover my ego."

Hermione looked apologetic.

"Oh Draco, you ridiculous man."

She placed her hands on both sides of his face and stared up at him so affectionately he thought he saw actual stars in her eyes. She went up on her toes, but finding she wasn't quite tall enough, dragged his face down so she could kiss him on the tip of his nose.

"Even if there wasn't a warlock in the world who would remarry us you still wouldn't be able to get rid of me. We'd just live in sin," she purred before pressing her lips against his.

He chuckled against her mouth.

"Not a chance, witch. I'm going to tie you down with a marriage bond even if I have to perform it myself."

"Are you sure? You won't miss the variety? You're not looking for someone with more traditional but versatile taste?" she said in a teasing tone.

He snorted and drew his wand, casting a series of wards around the room.

"No. I'm afraid this was your one chance to escape. Now you're going to be stuck with me permanently."

"Oh no, what will I do?" she said in mock horror. She was entirely nude and her eyes were sparkling as she watched him. "I'm going to have to retract my invitation to that grabby Russian who kept trying to visit."

"There are absolutely no Russians in your future," he said, giving her a glare as he finished casting. "Now, I had envisioned doing this with you clothed, but naked in a library is rather fitting."

He flicked his wand and with a nonverbal spell, summoned a small box he'd been carrying around for half a year. He flipped it open to reveal a delicate ring of white gold. Then he dropped to one knee.

"Hermione Granger," he said, staring up at her seriously. "I didn't get to tell you all this before the first time around, but I have been in love with you since eighth year. You are the bravest, most brilliant, and beautiful witch on earth. The past two years have been the happiest of my entire life and confirmed to everyone acquainted with me that you have my completely whipped. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, I will become a librarian again. I will face down Opaleyes and giant squids, although preferably only the transfigured varieties. I will shag you in any library your heart desires. I will love you forever, even if you look like Elvira Smithkins. Although I'd really prefer if you didn't. You are the only person on this earth that I want to spend my life with. So, while I realise that you are currently married to me, I would like to ask you now to do me the immense honor of doing it again. Preferably tomorrow… What do you say, Granger, marry me twice?"

Hermione had started sniggering about halfway through his speech and by the end of it she had thrown her head back and laughed outright until peals of laughter were bouncing off the walls. When he finally popped the question, she dropped to her knees and started fumbling through the pile of clothing on the floor, still laughing quietly to herself. Finally she found what she was looking for and pulling out a box of her own, opened it to reveal an elegant goblin-wrought ring in Draco's size.

Her eyes were dancing and she was still chuckling with amusement as she started speaking.

"Draco Malfoy," she said, snickering, "I have to admit that when I first got married to you I thought you were an irredeemable arse. However, after spending a month actually getting to know you I discovered that you are quite possibly the sweetest person I have ever known in my entire life. You make me happier than anyone else; to the point that my coworkers have stuck paper bags over my head to block out how excessively I beam at work. I would follow you anywhere in the world. I would even give up libraries if that's what it took to spend the rest of my life with you. You are the cleverest, most caring, and unjustly attractive wizard on earth. And now that we have gotten married, consummated, and honeymooned in this library, I would like very much to also get engaged in it. Will you marry me again tomorrow, Malfoy?"

Draco didn't reply. He just dragged her into his arms and kissed her as deeply as he could. Sliding his fingers into her wild hair and enveloping her in his arms.

"You're mine now, Granger," he growled in her ear. "Forever."

"Yours," she said, as she tangled her fingers into his hair and dragged his lips against hers. "Just like you're mine."