"Oh my, Draco, I swear becoming my fiancee has just made you so much better in bed," Hermione giggled, laying her head on his bare chest. Her eyes drifted up and followed the lazy arch of the fan, which was placed in the centre of her apartment's high ceiling.

"Am I going to have to buy you more expensive jewellery to get a compliment like that every time," Draco drawled and lazily ran a hand along her arm till he caught her hand in his. He tilted her hand this way and that letting the light catch on the facets of the stone.

"No, I think I'm satisfied for the moment."

"Satisfied, huh. Can I convince you to partake in a round two?" He asked and rubbed her knuckles coaxingly.

"Oh no, you and I are going to have a chat about a dish best served cold," Hermione said and tried to wave off his attentions.

"What, like potato salad?" Draco asked, his hand stopping it's descent towards her chest.

"No, like revenge!" Hermione excitedly yelled and sat up, forcing Draco to scoot back to avoid her rogue elbow.

"Watch it Granger!" Draco rebuked, protecting his 'delicate' parts with a hand, "I presume you want children!"

"Revenge! Draco, I need revenge on her?"

"Who?" Draco asked, a look of bemusement on his face.

"Rita!"

"Oh, but wouldn't the best revenge just be living happy ever after," Draco said placatingly and peppered kisses along the back of her shoulder.

"No, you sap," she scolded.

"Ah fine," Draco said, rubbing the back of his neck; he was now resigned to not having more sex, "I do have a couple of ideas for retribution."

"Really!" Hermione whooped, "tell me!"

"Ok," Draco said and rubbed his hands together like a magician, "listen closely and I will tell you all."

…

Sirius gave them both a skeptical look and asked, "Are you sure that this is a good idea?"

It was morning, Draco and her were standing in front of Sirius's desk. Draco had come with her to propose the scheme to Sirius, and Hermione couldn't deny she loved having him escort her to work.

"It's a perfect plan," Hermione reassured Sirius, "thought up by my perfect fiancee."

"Please, don't describe Draco in that way in front of me," Sirius said with a wince. "We are, after all, still related."

"Come on Uncle Sirius," Draco said, grinning, "get on the blower to the editor."

"I'd see it as a personal favour if you never referred to me as your 'uncle' again," dryly replied Sirius. "But fine. I'll make the call."

They both stared at him expectantly.

"You're not going to leave me alone until I've done this, are you?" Sirius moaned, but he picked up the receiver and dialled the number. He placed a smile on his face, as if forcing himself to be amiable to whoever picked up the other end of the phone.

"Hello," Sirius said into the phone, "I was wondering if I could speak to Mr Crouch, the editor of The Daily Prophet." He paused, listening to the reply. "Me, well I'm Sirius Black. He'll know who I am."

Sirius glared at Hermione and silent mouthed to her 'You owe me'. She just beamed at him in response.

She heard a man's muffled voice talking from the phone, and Sirius put on his fake smile again. "Barty, old man, how've you been?" Sirius replied to the man, "I've got a bit of a problem, one of your reporters has been causing a bit of trouble for my client." Sirius paused, "I'm well aware it's legal to publish speculation. But I have a deal to offer you. In return for a retraction and apology, I'll give you exclusive access to the Malfoy Granger wedding," Sirius listened to the answer. "Yes, that is Lucius Malfoy's son. You can imagine how much that article scuppered things up for the poor boy's proposal."

Hermione snorted and whispered to Draco, "Poor boy indeed."

"Ha," he quietly replied, "good thing that my father's name can still do me a favour without knowing it."

"Now Barty," Sirius charmingly said to the man on the phone, "I have another sweetener to offer. As well as exclusive coverage of their wedding, Malfoy Jr also wants to invite Rita to model in a piece of 'experiment art'. You know mend the bond, extend the hand of friendship so to speak. How does that sound?" He stopped to listened, until his mouth broke into the first genuine smile, "Excellent, I shall look forward to reading the retraction in tomorrow's publication." He put the phone down. To Hermione and Draco, he said, "we are going to get into so much trouble over this."

Draco wrapped an arm round Hermione's shoulders and squeezed. "Isn't it going to be so much fun though."

…

A week later and their plan was set. Sirius hired a contemporary art space in central London. A big blank room, perfect for filling with cameras, people and Rita. Hermione spent an afternoon sending out last minute invitations to colleagues and contemporary artists, welcoming them to Draco's impromptu 'experimental' art show. She'd gotten quite a good response. Draco's fame had rocketed over the past few months and with his recent commission by Dumbledore under his belt, he was well on his way to becoming a house hold name.

"Draco," Hermione called from the back of the room

"Yes my love," Draco asked, walking over to her, "why are you hiding all the way back here. I'm doing this for you and I want you to have a good view."

"I don't want to spook her, I think my smile might give the game away," she explained.

Draco surveyed her, "I do rather see what you mean. You look like a dog who has spotted a rather juicy steak-"

"What is it with you and these dog comparisons?" She snapped, folding her arms.

"I really love dogs, and I really love you," he said and kissed her on the cheek.

She gave him a look and the look might have evolved into a scolding, if Rita hadn't chosen that moment to swan into the gallery.

"I'd better go," Draco said and rushed off, dodging between the crowd to greet Rita.

Hermione watched Draco charm Rita, he kissed her hand and, she was sure, he was uttering a load of false compliments to her as he chivied her towards the prepared space. They'd decked the gallery in plastic sheeting and propped one large canvas against a wall. If it wasn't for the buzzing crowd, it would have looked like a potential murder scene.

She spotted Oliver by the canvas. His back was to the approaching Rita and he was fiddling with paints. It had been Hermione's idea to ask Oliver to pose as an assistant for the day. He'd seen first hand how much Rita's article had upset her. Oliver was now filling a large bucket with acid green paint, several empty tubes already lay around him.

There was the flash of occasional cameras and the quiet chatter of the crowded. Draco kept talking to Rita, his hands moving energetically, as he described his 'dream' for her as a model. Even above the heads' of the crowd, Rita's shrill voice was clear.

"Don't I need to change?" Rita asked Draco, looking round at all the plastic sheeting.

"Oh no, you're fine as you are," Draco reassured, taking her hand and positioning Rita in front of the white canvas, "I'm aiming for the natural, the everyday easy of Rita."

"I do have an instinct for beauty," Rita boosted, and stuck her arms into a stiff pose.

"Perfect!" Draco gushed, "You look like a vision."

Hermione felt that, Draco might be pushing it with 'vision', but Rita just seemed to preen more from his words.

"Right," Draco said, clapping his hands together, "shall we start? Oliver, my materials please."

Oliver hefted the very full and heavy bucket and passed it to Draco.

"My god, this weighs a ton," Draco said, staggering under the weight.

"I can tell you've not been doing your arm exercises Draco," Oliver commented with a smile. "Do you need any help?" He offered.

"No, no,' Draco said, stumbling around, "it won't be heavy for much longer."

"What exactly is this experimental art going to be?" Rita asked, her tone concerned. Her eyes following the sway of the full bucket.

"Don't worry. I'm not putting you through anything I haven't already been through," Draco said and threw the paint at her.

There was a silence. The silence you get when a crowd of people can't quite believe their eyes. Then Rita gave a scream, like the bowels of hell had opened. The scream was somewhat stifled and ruined by the fact that paint than dribbled off her nose and into a her gaping mouth.

"This," Draco said, addressing the astonished crowd in a commanding voice, "is experimental art. Behold!"

Rita front was absolutely covered in bright green paint. Her hair had finally been conquered by gravity, as the sheer weight of the mass of paint had caused her curls to flop around her face like stringy snakes. Behind her motionless body, the canvas was covered in splatters of paint and only a Rita's shaped silhouette remained white.

With a rush, the crowd awoke from their stupor. Camera's flashed, there were gasps of amazement and then the laughter started.

With sticky fingers Rita removed her glasses, revealing her outraged eyes. "You!" Rita screamed, silencing the crowd once more, and she lifted one soggy arm to point straight at Draco.

Oliver nudged Draco and said, "Run for it mate."

Draco looked from crowd to Rita and took in her godlike wrath. Then he legged it out the Gallery and onto the busy London streets.

"Get back here!" Rita howled and ran after him. An impressive feat, for a woman in three inch heels.

Oliver sauntered over to Hermione. "You know, Draco must really love you. I don't know many men who would willingly let themselves be chased through London by an enraged green reporter."

"It's ok, he's run through London naked before," Hermione said with a nonchalant shrug, "This is a walk in the park in comparison."

Oliver grinned at her and they both started to laugh.

…

Epilogue: 6 Months Later

"Granger," Draco growled, "You're perving at Oliver's wood again."

"It's art darling, you can't be a pervert in art," Hermione said sweetly, as she prepared her own paints.

"Who came up with that rubbish," Draco said, applying his brush to the canvas again.

"I'm fairly sure that rubbish spouted from you," Oliver added with a smile. He was standing in the centre of the room, his hand raised towards the heavens in a hero like pose. He was also starkers.

"Don't move Wood," Draco said, glaring at Oliver, "Models are meant to be seen and not heard."

"Hermione, give your husband a clip round the ear for me," Oliver pleaded to her.

"After I've mixed my paints, I'll come and give Draco what for," she reassured.

"Kinky," Draco dryly commented, and dropped his brush into a water pot. "Alright Wood, we'll take five. I need to get a beating from my wife."

"God, let me get out of ear shot first before you two start with the dirty talk," Oliver said, grabbing his robe and sliding it over his body.

"Now Granger," Draco said, walking over to her part of the studio and slipping his arm around her now protruding belly, "what portrait are you working on today."

"A new girl," she replied, picking up a tube of Winsor Violet and examining it.

"I still can't believe that Dumbledore commissioned you to paint nude women, while I'm stuck painting naked Oliver!" Draco grumbled. He rested his head on her shoulder and watched her prepare her paints.

"It's not my fault you ended up looking so feminine in my painting of you. Dumbledore obviously thought I was the better artist to commission to paint woman," Hermione said. "You should have cut your hair."

"You like my hair," Draco growled and kissed her exposed neck.

"I do, but it's longer than mine now. And it gets everywhere. I swear if we got a cat, it would shed less than you."

"We're not getting a cat. I cannot cope with a new born baby and a cat."

"You'll cope fine," she reassured.

Draco paused, his mouth inches from her neck. "This is a done deal isn't it?" He asked, suspiciously. "I'm going to go home tonight and find a cat, aren't I?"

"He's very sweet," Hermione cooed, turning so that her chest was seductively pressed into his body. Or it would have been, but her belly got in the way.

"You are something else Granger," he muttered, scowling at her.

"I promise I will make it up to you," she said, running a hand up his chest to cup his face.

"You'd better," Draco said, his expression softening, "Every bloody night."

"Uh huh, whatever you say Draco."

Draco groaned and swept her mouth up into a kiss. His hands crept round her waist and settled on her lower back, her very lower back.

Hermione squeaked as he pitched her backside. "Draco!"

"What," he said innocently, "I'm appreciating my wife."

"Appreciating a bit too much!"

"Never too much," he winked at her.

There was a knock at the studio door.

"Ah that will be Lavender," Hermione said and slipped out of Draco's embrace. "Oliver," she called out, "would you get the door? I can't move so fast any more."

"Sure thing Hermione," Oliver said, emerging from the studio's small kitchenette. Oliver raced to the door and opened it. And then he froze.

"Oliver, everything alright?" Hermione asked, waddling over to the door.

"Yes…yes… everything is fine," Oliver stammered. His eyes were fixed on the girl waiting outside.

"Lavender," Hermione greeted, "so pleased to meet you. Do come in?"

"Thank you," Lavender softly said and smiled.

"Oliver," Hermione poked him in the shoulder, "would you move so Lavender can come in?"

Oliver seemed to wake from a trance, he jumped and quickly stepped back clearing the doorway. "Sorry," he uttered.

Hermione gave him a perplexed look as he hurried off towards Draco. She wondered what was the matter with him?

"That was Oliver," Hermione explained to Lavender, "he's not normally like that. He must be feeling a bit off."

"Oh that's quite alright," Lavender breathily said, "he's got lovely shoulders, hasn't he?"

Hermione looked at Lavender, the girl's eyes were following Oliver's retreating figure.

"Sure," Hermione said, "he's my husband's model. Over there," she pointed to the door next to the kitchen, "is a changing room, do you want to get ready?"

"Of course," the girl said, a soppy smile on her pretty face.

Hermione walked back to where Draco and Oliver were talking. She wondered what was wrong with this new girl, she seemed a bit out of it. As she approached, she caught the end of Draco and Oliver's conversation.

"Draco, you've got to help me," Oliver said, looking pained.

"What's wrong?" Draco questioned.

"What, what do you do when Hermione was painting you and you got a - well you know," and Oliver whispered something in Draco's ear.

Draco's eyes widened. "Normally we'd have sex if that happened." He gave a wry grin, "we had a lot of sex."

"But what if that wasn't an option. What would you do then?" Oliver asked.

"You mean you've got a-" Draco said, nodding downwards.

"Yes!"

"Oh, that's awkward. I mean I know we're close Oliver, but we're not that close."

Both men shuddered.

"Tell you what," Draco said, "phone your dentist."

"What!" Oliver cried, looking disgustedly at Draco.

"Not like that!" Draco quickly reassured, "I mean, make a dentist appointment. I know the idea of a balding man bending over me and prodding at my mouth with sharp instruments isn't one I'd get aroused over. Well, unless you're into that sort of thing?" Draco added and smirked.

"God no! But good idea, I'll go and book myself in for a root canal surgery," Oliver said and hurried off in the direction of the door.

"What in the world was all that about," Hermione said to Draco.

"I think," Draco said, pulling her closer, "Our little Oliver has got a crush on the new girl."

"Really? Oh, that would explain his weird behaviour." Then it clicked with Hermione. "You know," she said excitedly to Draco, "I think she likes him too. We could play matchmaker-"

"No Hermione. The last thing we need is our models trying to shag each other when we're trying to paint them!"

"Spoil sport," she grumbled. "I guess I won't be needing these anymore." She gestured to the box of cream cakes lying beside her paints.

"Why?" Draco asked, confused.

"Well I've been trying to get my models to look more passionate and sexy looking-"

"Hermione, if you needed help with that you only had to ask," Draco said, winking at her.

"Shut up you," she replied and swatted his arm. "Anyway, I had a brilliant idea. Well you know most of these girls are half starved, and I thought if I tempted them with chocolate eclairs then I might get that longing look in their eyes that I wanted."

"Got you."

"But I guess Lavender will be pulling that look, anyhow, in Oliver's direction," Hermione said with a sad shrug.

"No worries Granger, I'll take care of this little problem for you." Draco grabbed the box, opened it and shoved half an eclair into his mouth. "Yummy," he said, between creamy mouthfuls. "Here," he fed her the other half of the cake, "you need fattening up. You're eating for two now."

"Perhaps three," she said, beaming at him.

He gave her a look of awe. "So we're getting a cat and a baby and another baby. We are going to have a very full house."

And they smiled at each other.

The End

...

And that's it.

Thank you to everyone who had read this story, commented, followed and favourited. Please, check out my profile soon for more Draco goodness

This story is dedicated to Jenny