Chapter Fifteen—Christmas

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: This is the last chapter of The Malfoy Will. I'm going to miss this story. It's been the most fun to write. Thanks to all of the readers, the reviewers, the favoriters, the alert-ers. Everyone who's read this story was the inspiration to finish it. Thanks so much. :)

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Waking up Christmas morning in Draco's house and in Draco's bed made Hermione's insides tingle. It was Christmas morning. And because of that, she hurried downstairs to the tree that she forced Draco into getting. He told her that his childhood wasn't exactly festive at this time of year. Her retort was to suck it up. She wanted a holiday; he was going to have to deal. He sat in his armchair. His hair wasn't gelled back, it fell freely. He had a robe on, a green robe, and was actually smiling. The sight of his smile was another thing that made her insides tingle.

Might as well make a list, she concluded as she rushed over to him and fell, gracefully, into his lap. "Presents?" she inquired.

"Not until after my parents' and then the Weasel's." She groaned like a greedy child. He laughed and picked her up, dropping her in the kitchen. "But it doesn't mean we can't eat. I'm not too fond of the food at my parents'. It's too…Flamboyant."

"Flamboyant? I never thought I'd see the day that Draco Malfoy used the word flamboyant."

"Oh, so a guy can't have a good vocabulary? I see how it is. I'll go back to when we were eleven years old and the only words I knew, in reference to you, were bushy haired, buck-toothed, know-it-all Granger. I'd rather enjoy using that every day."

Hermione snorted, "As long as I can call you an insufferable git."

"Any day, love, any day."

Before she could respond properly, the phone rang. She answered it with a quiet, "hello."

"Hi, darling, it's Dad."

"Oh, hey, Dad."

"We won't be able to come,"

"I figured, since you didn't tell me yesterday, like I had asked."

"I'm so sorry. I want to see you today, but your mother isn't exactly fond of you right about now. She told me what you said to her, not exactly respectful. But that isn't the point. I'm sorry we won't be coming."

"It's fine, Dad, really. Just tell Mum I said Happy Christmas."

"Alright, Love."

"Bye,"

"Happy Christmas."

"You too."

She hung up the phone with a sigh and turned to face Draco. "Your father?"

"Yes." She pouted her lips in defeat. "He's not coming,"

Draco embraced her, "What did I tell you? Don't expect them to. What you said to your mother, though very funny, was a little inappropriate. I'm sure being around you right now might trigger the wrong mental image."

"I highly doubt that's the reason. She just doesn't want to be the one that gives in."

"Well who cares what your mother thinks? Not me." He bent down and kissed her softly, "How long until we leave?"

"Uh, I don't know. A half an hour or so. Why?"

"I think you know why." He chuckled, pushing her into the living room and onto the couch. Kissing her fiercely and passionate, he paused only to tell her one thing, "I love you."

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"Draco, Hermione!" Mrs. Malfoy smiled as they entered the dining room. "Happy Christmas!" She hugged them both while Lucius remained seated, and just nodded. "So, I guess we're lucky to snag you for lunch. Draco tells me you two have plans at the Weasely's."

Hermione affirmed, "Yes. Around three or four. What time was it dear?"

"Three thirty, Hermione." Draco sniggered. "I wouldn't mind going at four, though."

"Me either," she beamed.

"But I definitely think we should go at three." Draco nodded, "being punctual is important. Right, Mother?"

"Very important." She smiled, glancing at the look shared between Draco and Hermione. Contrary to the hopefulness of her husband, Mrs. Malfoy found herself appreciating the happiness Hermione brought her son. It was worth all the trouble in the world to witness her son's smile. It was a rare smile, but lately she had seen it more than ever.

The meal went smoothly. Lucius continued to be withdrawn. They exchanged presents and laughs, many of which were genuine. Draco pulled Hermione out onto the property, along with his parents, for a proper tour. She met house maids, house elves, cooks and 

gardeners who were off duty due to the cold weather. Being rich like this, she concluded, would surely drive her insane.

When three o' clock rolled around, they bid their farewells, said their thanks and apparated back to their home.

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"Hermione! Draco!" Mrs. Weasely greeted them as they entered the Burrow. "We thought you two weren't coming. It's almost four thirty!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasely, but we got caught up at my parents.

"My name is Molly. Use it." She commanded, leading them into the house where a nice fire was lit. People were gathered around the fire talking and chatting. They were bombarded with hugs and kisses and congratulations.

"So Hermione," Ginny squealed, "When's the official wedding?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed Ron's face pale dramatically. "We're thinking February. All of you are invited, obviously."

"Good," Harry smiled. "There's no way I'm missing my chance to see my best friend get married."

"Me either," Ginny added, rubbing Harry's knee affectionately.

"I'm going to be an uncle and a father, how exciting is this?" Harry snorted.

"Uncle?" Draco sneered playfully, "There's no Potter in my baby's blood."

Hermione shook her head, "Doesn't matter. He's still an uncle."

"So are you, Draco." Harry amended, "But don't worry, the kid'll have to say 'Uncle Malfoy'."

Draco grumbled while everyone laughed.

When seven o' clock rolled around and everyone was finished with their meal, Ron called Hermione over to the side. "Hermione, I'm sorry for getting so angry." He ground out through clenched teeth. Hermione safely assumed this was a forced apology from either Harry or Ginny.

"It's alright Ron."

"It is." He said, "I said I would wait and you married him. I'm betrayed and hurt. I can't believe this whole situation, but because it's the holiday season and everyone's so happy, I'm going to bite my tongue."

Hermione pondered for a brief moment before replying, "I forgive you for yelling at me and getting so upset and I'm sorry if I did hurt you. I shouldn't have led you on like that."

"You're right. You shouldn't." He sneered, smiling weakly. Draco came up from behind Hermione and protectively wrapped his hands around her.

"Happy Christmas, Weasel. We'll see you around. But I've got to get my wife home."

"Bye, Malfoy. Merry Christmas."

Hermione shook her head at their antics and then involuntarily smiled. He called her his wife: something else that gave her tingles.

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"Alright, Draco," she smiled as they sat on their sofa, looking at the Christmas tree. "So we went to your parents, we went to Ron's, it's almost midnight. Christmas is almost over and I still haven't been able to give you my gift."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." He smirked, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Do it now."

She got up off the couch and got a medium sized box. He snatched it from her and ripped it open. There, beneath the wrapping paper were two books and a framed picture of them at their engagement party. "So I know it's nothing great, but I didn't really have much time. Lately—"

"It's wonderful, this photo is definitely amazing. Look at us kissing. And it's back when we hated each other," he smirked, watching the photograph intently. In the picture, Draco leaned down and kissed Hermione. When they finally pulled away, her face was scrunched up in a disgusted scowl. "Now this, this is priceless."

"Ha. Ha." She laughed, "I know, I can make quite the faces sometimes."

"Sorry," he coughed, "But I didn't get you anything." She was disappointed, but realized it was selfish to be that way, after all, they had just gotten married. She had barely enough time to get him something, so she wasn't surprised. "I didn't really have much time. Lately..." He mimicked her before leaning down and gracing her lips with a kiss. She giggled.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Are you giggling again?"

"What is your issue with my giggling?"

"No issue; it's just funny."

"Funny? So you find me funny?"

"Yes, actually, if you hadn't figured that out already."

After snorting and huffing, Hermione removed herself from Draco's arms and began to walk upstairs.

"You're going already?"

"Draco, it's eleven fifty seven, I'm tired."

He jumped up from the couch suddenly, "Oh, shit. It's that late already?" he rushed over to her and grabbed her by the wrist, practically dragging her up the stairs. The house was spacious and there were several rooms. Hermione had counted one day, five bedrooms, a guest bedroom, two bathrooms, a study, a living area, a kitchen, and a dining room, plus a few others. It was big for her, yet small for him.

He had pulled her past their bedroom door hastily. She was about to protest when he silenced her and they arrived at one of the spare bedrooms. He positioned her in front of him. She felt his hand move past her waist and towards the doorknob, opening it for her to see inside.

There, in the brightly lit spare bedroom, sat a nursery; a blue nursery. Running her fingers across the crib, she turned to him. "It's blue."

He walked over to her, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her close. "Well, the color associated with boys is blue."

"But how do you know it's a boy. Usually, people don't know the sex of the baby until—"

"Magic. We do magic, you idiot."

"Wait, so you're saying you did something to me, such as cast a charm or spell on me when I was unaware—"

"Ginny. Ginny told me."

She went quiet and smiled. He kissed her forehead affectionately and whispered, "So what do you think?"

"It's wonderful."

"Great. I knew you would like it. So will Ernest."

"Ernest? You can't seriously be considering naming our child Ernest."

"Of course we're naming him Ernest."

"Draco,"

"Ernest."

"Draco!" she scolded, cocking her head to the side.

"Ernest."

"Now I wish I was having a girl," she sighed.

"I'm going to tell him you said that." He smiled, "Then I'll be his favorite parent."

"You are not going to tell him that."

"Really? Stop me." He taunted. She rolled her eyes ceremoniously before kissing him sweetly. "I think I've been stopped, for now at least. You're going to have to put in a little more effort."

"Fine," she said, grasping his hand in hers and dragging him into their bedroom. She fell into the bed and he jumped in next to her. Leaning over to her, he attempted to kiss her but she pulled back. "What are you doing?"

"I'm kissing you?" he asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to sleep."

"No," he groaned, "You're not serious."

"Draco, I'm tired. I'm having a baby. Get used to it." She laughed while lying down under the covers. He inched his way closer and enveloped her in his arms.

"Please?"

"No." she whispered into his bare shoulder.

"Bushy haired, buck toothed, know it all."

"Good night, Draco." She giggled.

"Night, Granger."

"Actually, it's Malfoy."

END