The sound of my quill scratching against parchment is like music to my ears. It's the sound of productivity, the sound of a task being completed. I'd always prided myself on my innate ability to focus on a task at hand. So much so that when I casually glanced up at the clock, I was surprised it was already time for lunch.

As Head of Magical Law Enforcement, I typically spend about half my workday filing reports and then checking those from my team underneath me. This week had been particularly busy after a string of robberies, and subsequent arrests in Manchester had our understaffed department staying over late each night to get our work completed. I figure I've put it at least 15 extra hours this week— I'll take a long lunch.

I make my way to Diagon Alley to pick up lunch from The Leaky Cauldron. I order an extra meal, suspecting that my husband hadn't noticed it was time for lunch either. That was one of many things we had in common. His favorite, corned beef on rye, was today's special. Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom purchased the Leaky Cauldron from Tom, the old innkeeper, a few years back. They always tucked an extra piece of treacle tart in our bag, knowing Draco had an insatiable sweet tooth.

I decide to run a few errands, as I'm already out, stopping by Madam Malkin's to pick up the suits we had tailored. I tuck the suits neatly into my purse, having plenty of room thanks to my purse extension charms, and then make my way to Malfoy Enterprises.

At Malfoy Enterprises, we manufacture and distribute potions to stores and hospitals alike, a dream of Draco's for many years. It started as just him and Blaise shipping orders from our flat, as the Malfoy vaults took a massive hit in reparations to keep themselves from Azkaban. From there, he built his fortunes back up, and has since moved the company into an expansive empire. He's now known as one of the greatest potion masters alive, with Snape being gone.

Starting from the ground up has given him a tremendous sense of pride. We made our start in a small flat until we were able to purchase the home we have now. It's no Manor, but regal in a more subtle way. We have a comfortable life and an amicable friendship, full of trust and respect. Our children want for nothing without being too spoiled. All in all, we have a great life together, considering how we started.

I enter the building, smiling as I greet our receptionist Tabitha.

"Hello Tabitha," I say, nodding towards the short, graying woman.

"Good Afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy," Tabitha says, "I wasn't expecting to see you today."

"Yes, I thought I'd bring Draco a little something," I hold up the brown paper bag for Tabitha to see. "Corned beef on rye, his favorite."

I make my way to the lift, my heels clicking against the marble floor with each step. I press the button for the top floor and hum to myself as I wait. The lift dings and I see his secretary's desk is unmanned. Perhaps she's gone to lunch herself, I think. I open the door to his enclosed office and freeze.

I hear the sound of glass breaking, and I realize I've dropped my bag, but that doesn't matter currently. At the present moment, all that matters is seeing my husband pressing up against his secretary. His belt undone with his pants down, hair disheveled as her hands rake through it. She's seated on the edge of his desk, legs wrapped tightly around him. Her face set on the crook of his neck, kissing my favorite spot and, I feel ill. The sound of me dropping my bag causes him to snap his head to me.

"Hermione! What are you doing here? I-I- this isn't-"

"Isn't what, Draco? Isn't what it seems?" I bark coldly. "It sure seems as if you're screwing your secretary, dear." I pick up my bag and make to storm off, slamming the door as he rights his clothing.

"Hermione, please!" He shouts behind me.

"Please, what, exactly?" I all but shout.

His eyes widen, and his mouth moves but no words come out. My face feels hot as I resume to storm out of our company building. I bypass the lift entirely, opting to race down the stairs, to not be in an enclosed area with him. Once I reach the ground floor, I avoid eye contact as people greet me in passing. Do they know?

"Leaving so soon, Mrs. Malf—?"

I ignore Tabitha and keep walking, picking up my pace. Anything to get the hell out of here. I may be his Ministry-chosen wife, but how could he?

Tears make their way down my face as I burst through the front entrance doors. I turn on the spot, apparating with a quick snap and appearing in our Master Suite just a moment later. I drop to the floor, clutching my stomach as I wrack with sobs, allow myself to break down. I reminisce over the last three years, wondering, fearing, it all a lie.

The beginning was difficult, fighting like cats and dogs. The only good part of the first six months was the explosive sex. Great sex turned into a friendship, and for two years, he's been one of my best friends. It's not exactly what I would've hoped for in marriage, but we do get along well. Both well-read and intelligent, workaholics who understand when the other is working late, active in politics, with many of the same interests. Matched up almost perfectly.

I begin to pace our room, looking everywhere except our bed or our sitting chair. My face heats, remembering how we used them just last night. I halt my progress in wearing the floor down. I wonder silently just how long this little affair has been going on for? I shudder thinking of being with him after he's been with her. The thought of her still on his skin as we potentially made love right after makes me wretch, but since I did not get the chance to eat, nothing came up.

I race to my closet, grabbing my suitcase, and begin to pack. I can't see him right now, I need to get out of this house, go somewhere alone for a while.

No sooner than the thought crosses my mind, I hear the signature pop of apparation.

"Hermione," he calls, "wait—are you leaving?"

"Well, obviously, Draco! How could you do this?" I demand. "Why would you do this?"

Confusion crosses his face. "I don't understand. It's just—" he cuts off, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not as if it means something. She means nothing to me. I didn't think it would matter. You and I are only together because we were chosen for each other."

I'm unsure if his goal was to hurt me, but either way, my heart breaks. "I'm the mother to your children, Draco. I—I loved you."

I push past him unwilling to continue this conversation any longer.

"You – you loved me? Hermione, wait!" he grabs my wrist and spins me to him. "I love you, too."

"Draco, don't. I can't even look at you right now." My lip trembles and I stare into his eyes. Grey, like stormy skies and steel. "I thought we were past lying and hurting each other, but I suppose not."

"If I knew, I wouldn't have ever—you never indicated that—that we were more than two people who are friends, required by law to reproduce."

"I've told you I loved you, Draco Malfoy!"

"Twice! Only TWICE! Once when Scorpius was born and once when Rose was born! You never said it again, so I chalked it up to hormones!"

"And you've said it once," my voice is small and tired, "after I caught you screwing your secretary."

I pull my wrist from his grip and pain flashes across his face as he begs me not to go. I block his excuses from my mind. Too little, too late.

"Where are you going, Hermione? You're not even going to stop and talk to me about this?"

My eyes widen, and my mouth pops open. "Talk about this? You screwing your secretary? What more is there to say? There's nothing left here to be said, Draco. I'm not interested to hear all about how you couldn't keep your cock in your pants," I turn my back to him, shaking my head and speaking with a slightly calmer tone. "I can't, Draco. This, I refuse to forgive. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a marriage to expunge."

I apparate to the Ministry to attempt to dissolve my marriage on the grounds of infidelity. I have to file a report and hope to Merlin that we can break our contract before having our mandatory three children. With the war wiping out a good portion of Wizarding Britain, everyone of a certain age was prompted by law to get married by choice or match and have a minimum of three children. Two to replace themselves, plus one to increase the population. The Ministry is desperate, and I fear they might force me to stay in this ridiculous farce of a marriage just for the sake of birthing one more magical child.

When the marriage law was enacted, each person had two choices. Marry someone of their choosing, or take an extensive compatibility test to be matched with a proper spouse. I opted to be matched, which would generate a list of people compatible with a 97% match or higher scoring, from which you may choose your partner. Both Draco and I were shocked to find each other on the list of best matches to select. He penned me a note in disbelief, captivated by the idea that we could be so similar. Similar, we were indeed. We found we share many of the same ideas, hobbies, and tastes.

My heart breaks for our Scorpius and Rose as I fill out the required information. I never wanted them to have a broken home, to have to experience being shuffled between parents. It pained me that they would not grow up the way I had, with parents who loved each other.

Our children taught us so much about love. After six months, we became pregnant with Scorpius, and things changed from that point on. No longer did we fight or attempt to rile the other. Respect was born the moment we found out we created a life together. Then we became pregnant with Rose much sooner than anticipated, when Scorpius was only five months old, who is now five months old herself.

I walk out of the office to see my husband sitting across the hall in one of the waiting chairs. His head is hanging in his hands, hair still disheveled, such a far cry from his usually put-together self.

"Hermione, please don't do this." his face is twisted in pain, but I know I can't give in. "I didn't intend to hurt you. You're my best friend. I can't imagine my life without you, without your heart, your passion."

"No, I can't. I view you completely differently now. Everything is changed. In the beginning, it was different, we still hadn't gotten over our rivalry from school. We've built a life together now, built a family."

There are tears in his steel-grey eyes as he looks at me with desperation.

"This can't be it,"

His voice cracks with emotion, giving me mixed feelings of anger and sadness. I'd grown to love this man, and it hurt to say goodbye, but I couldn't be with someone who hurt me the way he did. I will never be able to look at him the same way. I will never be able to let him touch me without it making my skin crawl.

"I can't lose you, Hermione, please."

"There's nothing you could do or say to fix this, Draco," I say, my voice wavering. "It's too little, too late."

Massive thanks to my alpha, cls2256! She is phenomenal. Sequel is now up, It's Never Too Late.