*All Characters belong to JK Rowling, and I make no money from the writing or publishing of this story.


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An Unlikely Pair, Again

By

Anne M. Oliver

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Summary: (Sequel to An Unlikely Pair) Never would there be a more unlikely pair than Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. They met at a wedding, married the next day, and then two weeks later, they were ready to start their married life. Scheduled to spend the weekend at their in-laws, both were apprehensive.

She was anxious because his parents were former Death Eaters, and purebloods. Would they ever accept her? Would they ever feel she was good enough for their son? Could she ever forgive them for the things they did during the war?

He was slightly worried because her parents were Muggles. They were hopelessly middle class, and they didn't have house elves, he was worried that their house might only have one bathroom, heaven forbid.

It was crazy to marry so quickly, and it was true they were an unlikely pair. He was a git, she wasn't, he was a snob, she was pretensions, he was rich, and she middle-class, but there was one thing that they both were and it was this: They were in love.


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Chapter 1 –

She waited for her husband nervously. Where was he? He said he would meet her at four pm sharp, and here it was already 4:10, and no husband. Her parents would begin to worry if they were late. Already married for two weeks and he was already unreliable. Of course, maybe he was always unreliable. It's not as if she would know.

Hermione Granger checked her bag once more. She had packed last night, unpacked today, and repacked this afternoon. She wasn't nervous about going to her folk's house. She could handle that. She was nervous about going to his folk's house. They were spending tonight and most of tomorrow with her parents, and then tomorrow night and the next day at his parents, ending with an evening dinner at the Burrow, as was tradition.

They had been married for two weeks. They had also only been together for two weeks. Well, not even two weeks, really. They started dating a week ago last Saturday, and then they married on that Sunday. Crazy, of course. Especially with the fact that they were such an unlikely pair. He was pureblood, she was Muggle-born. He was rich, she was hopelessly middle class. He was a git, she was not. She laughed when she thought of that last one.

Strange how she could love someone so much, when she really didn't even know him. They would spend this weekend getting to know each other, and getting to know each other's parents. They went on a honeymoon the week after they wed. Then they spent all day the next Monday and Tuesday after their honeymoon moving all of his things into her small house. She would have happily moved to his flat, but he said he wanted to live in a house, with her. She thought that was sweet. As she looked around her house, full of all his ridiculous things, she was beginning to wonder.

Their taste couldn't be more different. Her style was what she would call "English cottage". She liked floral prints, plaids, worn furniture, puffy pillows, reds, beiges, and greens. He liked modern design. Steele and black. Ugly really, in her opinion. He liked modern art, but when she asked him what he liked about it, he would say, "Because it's expensive." She liked Mary Cassatt paintings, especially the ones that showed mothers and children. He said he thought they looked like someone who had their eyes shut painted them. How rude.

He liked to eat out every night. She liked to cook at home. He was a night person, who hardly ever went to bed before two am, even though he had to be at work at eight am. She was a morning person. She went to bed about nine pm, and woke up around six am. She ate breakfast every morning. He had coffee for breakfast. He had wine with each meal, she was a teetotaler. He liked to smoke expensive cigars, she was allergic to smoke.

She liked cats, he liked dogs. Enough said.

Yes, people would generally find out about these types of things during the normal courting period of a relationship. Their courting period consisted of twenty-four or so odd hours of eating cake, playing games, and running hill and dale around the Burrow. Still, Hermione didn't regret a thing about her courtship, her wedding, or her marriage. She wouldn't change a thing about any of it.

Well, she might change one thing. She might have made sure her husband knew how she hated to be late for anything. It caused her too much stress. Her stomach would tie up in knots just at the thought of being late somewhere.

She might as well call her folks and tell them that her stupid husband was late. Her stupid husband. She liked how that sounded. The husband part, not the stupid part. Her husband. She had a husband, and his name was Draco Malfoy, which made her Mrs. Draco Malfoy. She didn't like the way that sounded as much. She supposed she might be persuaded to be called 'Malfoy', but never, under any circumstances, would she allow someone to call her Mrs. Draco Malfoy. She was Hermione Jean Granger Malfoy. She wasn't even going to use the hyphen. She was just going to add his name to hers. Maybe he would take her name as well, and would be called Draco Granger Malfoy. She laughed thinking of that. She would suggest that to him in front of his father, and watch the fun ensue!

She definitely wanted their children to have her name as their middle name. After all, her father had no sons, so she wanted the 'Granger' name to carry on somehow. She had yet to tell Draco this fact. She had yet to tell him anything really. He moved in on Wednesday, finished moving in on Thursday, here it was Friday, and he had been gone all day. There would be plenty of time to talk and get to know each other this weekend.

She had already warned her parents about him. That might be a bit extreme; 'warn' wasn't the right word. She had 'prepared' them for him. She told them he was a bit haughty, had grown up pampered, and his sense of humour was a required taste. She wondered if he had 'warned' his parents about her. Truth be known, she was more nervous about meeting them, than she was for him to meet her parents. Where was he, anyway? They were going to be so late!

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Draco looked at his watch. He was exactly ten minutes late, so he felt pretty good. To be ten minutes late was to be on time for him. He had to go into the office today to finish some paperwork, so he could take a couple more weeks off work. He needed more time off to get to know his new little wife, Hermione. He threw his head back and laughed. He had a wife, he had a wife, a wife, a wife, yes he had a wife! As he sang his new little theme song, he realized that he never thought he would have a wife. He really never thought said wife would be Hermione Granger! Have mercy on his soul, but that was a shocker.

He loved her more than he thought possible, not that he ever thought that was possible. He had always thought she was pretty, if not a bit conceited, and he would catch a look at her pretty legs when she would stop by the office to talk to Potter. He liked the way her legs were so long and were attached just right to her body. He laughed, again. He was an idiot. All legs were attached to bodies, but hers were attached very nicely indeed.

He had bought a new car, a convertible, today, so that was why he was late. He knew they were going to drive to her parents' house, and he wanted to impress them. Undoubtedly, she had already told them all about him. She probably told them that he was handsome, kind, giving, oh hell, he couldn't even finish that thought. Knowing Granger, she told them that he was a pompous, pain in the arse, spoiled brat, and she would be pretty on the mark. Oh well, they could like him or not, he really didn't care. He only cared if she liked him, and frankly, he already knew the answer to that. She loved him, and moreover, he loved her. Also, her parents already knew he was handsome, since they saw him at the wedding. That was the most important thing. His looks.

He was slightly apprehensive about the plans for the first part of the weekend. He would be around all that 'Muggle' stuff. He hoped he wouldn't catch any Muggle illnesses while they were there. He wondered what her parents' house was like. He prayed to all that was holy and even to all that was unholy, that it was nicer than the Burrow. That place would always hold a special place in his heart because he fell in love with Granger there, but he certainly never wanted to spend another night there. Just the thought of it made his skin crawl.

Surely, her parents' house would be nicer than that. They were both dentist, which he knew meant they were teeth doctors. Why teeth needed doctors, he would never know. Maybe Muggles had a lot of teeth illnesses. He hoped he wouldn't catch any of those either. If he could only get through the first part of the weekend unscathed, then he could enjoy himself at his parents' house. He had so much he wanted to show her and tell her about his childhood home. It would be their house someday. He wondered if she realized that. That was why he wanted to move into her house, instead of have them move into his flat, even though his flat was twice the size of her little house. Basically, he wanted to be able to have a leg to stand on when they argued about living in the Manor someday. He already knew she would fight about it. He could come back with, 'but we lived in your house first!'

Her house was actually very nice. Very small, but very nice. It only had one bathroom. Draco had never heard of such a thing, before he spent last weekend at the Weasley's house. He thought one-bathroom houses were a thing of fables, fairytales, not real, but here was her house, and it only had one bathroom, too. How odd. He wondered how many bathrooms her parents' house had. He wished it had a name, because if it did, he could refer to it as something, besides, 'her parents' house'. Her little house was called 'Red Rose Cottage'. He liked that. It had red rose bushes all around the house. They were beautiful, but they paled in comparison to Hermione Granger.

He kept forgetting…she wasn't a Granger anymore. She was a Malfoy. He bought her a set of luggage for this weekend, and he had her initials engraved on the front of them. They were in the boot of the new car. He knew she packed last night, but she could quickly put her things in her new, engraved, luggage. It was engraved with her initials, HJM. He thought those were nice initials. He almost had them put HJGM on them, because he thought she might be under the fallacy that it would be all modern to keep her name as well as his, but then he realized how stupid that was. She was a traditionalist, like him. She was old fashion, like him. She was smart, like him. She would take his name.

As he drove closer to the cottage, he realized what a fool he was. Of course she wouldn't take his name. She probably meant to keep her stupid last name. He actually really didn't mind, since he called her Granger all the time, and as he really couldn't seem to call her much else, it might save confusion later in life when their children asked, 'Poppa, why do you call Momma, Granger?' If she kept her last name, their children would not be confused. Oh well, she could change the luggage later, if she wanted.

He drove up her driveway and saw Granger standing on the front porch. Oh, she looked angry. Was he that late? It was only twenty after. It would take another twenty to drive to her parents' place. Dinner wasn't until seven pm. What was the big deal?

He stopped the car, and she smiled. Okay, she wasn't that angry. He said, "Do you like the new car?"

"Is that why you're late?" she asked.

"Am I late?" he asked back. He got out of the car and threw their suitcases in the backseat. He figured he wouldn't have time to have her repack, after all.

"Yes, Draco, you're late, and I know you don't know this about me, so let's start a mental checklist about each other this weekend, and put number one on your checklist the fact that I absolutely abhor being late for anything!"

He shut his eyes tight, made a look as if he was concentrating, (or passing gas) and said, "Okay, duly marked."

"You're so weird," she said as if it were a matter of fact. He gave her a funny look and she said, "Oh, sorry." But then, she shut her eyes tight, as he did, and said, "Okay, I put that down as your number one, too."

"Ha, ha, my little wife thinks she's a comedian, but instead, she's sad and pathetic," he said. He opened the car door for her, and took her hand. She sat in the seat and looked up at him.

"Do you really think I'm sad and pathetic?" she asked, with a twinkle in her eye.

He smiled, and leaned down. He placed his knuckles across her cheek, and held her chin with his thumb and forefinger. He leaned toward her and tasted her lips. Ah, perfection. He said, "There's absolutely nothing sad and pathetic about you, Granger."

"It's Granger Malfoy, no hyphen," she informed him. He came around the side of the car and sat down.

He said, "I wondered about that. I knew you would have some kind of crazy idea about keeping your last name."

"Do you mind?" she asked.

"Not really. You alluded to the fact at the wedding, and just like I said on that day, you're the one who will have to tell my father." He laughed. He started the car and pulled out to the street. He gunned the engine and their little adventure began.

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