Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with Harry Potter. I wish I did, though. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.
Summary- Hermione is determined to fly. Draco decides to help her out. D/H pure fluff in which Hermione and Draco are married, Draco and Harry are reluctant friends and angry hexes and curses aren't being thrown around.
Author's Note- Hello! Welcome to my first fanfic! (Can you sense the nervousness?) I've been reading for a while, and decided to try my hand at writing. I hope you like it, and if you have the time, I'd love a note on how I'm doing. Logistics- this is rated M for some language and a short smut scene, if anyone takes offense to that, the warning is here. Just a little fluff to hopefully put a smile on some faces; after all, we could use that once in a while. Happy reading!
Hermione never believed that she would be one to settle into the routine of married life. After years of following Harry and Ron in adventure after adventure, she had begun to believe that maybe the normalcy of life just wasn't in the stars for her. Furthermore, she never believed that routine was in the cards for him, either. But nevertheless, here they were, Draco and Hermione, Malfoy and Granger, just another married couple.
Their routine was simple. Their alarm was set for six thirty in the morning and when it sounded, Draco would charm it to stay silent for another half an hour, in which they either lay in bed and talked or often times, partook in more risqué activities. That would inevitably bring them to seven a.m. in which they showered, ate and arrived at the Ministry by eight. When they arrived back at the Manor at seven, (she hated arriving home before Draco because it meant eating alone and what was the point in being married and forced to eat solo?) they ate and either watched a movie or read a book. The television had become a precious commodity that Draco simply couldn't live without.
On weekends, the alarm was set for nine-thirty, they stayed in bed until ten and went about the activities for the day. Thus was their day-to-day routine, and to Hermione it was more than satisfactory.
So when Hermione awoke at nine-thirty, as usual on a Saturday morning and found that her husband was not beside her to talk or engage in other lewd activities, she was less than pleased.
She retrieved a robe, which had unceremoniously been thrown across Crookshanks. It must have been Draco's doing, she thought. Any attempts at trying to annoy her familiar could all be chalked up to him.
Hermione opened their window and looked out. Another dreary England day.
Hermione jumped and squealed at Draco's sudden appearance outside the window. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked.
"Getting some air. Care to join?"
"No!" she exclaimed. "You know I don't like flying."
"I've heard of some pretty fun activities that can be done on a broom. Sure you don't want to?"
"Yes, quite! And if you don't come back inside there won't be fun activities for a while."
Hermione stood aside and reluctantly, Draco flew into the room and landed by the bed gracefully.
"What's got you all hot and bothered this morning?" Draco asked.
Hermione rounded on him. "I am not hot and bothered!" She wasn't about to admit to him that the disruption in her routine caused her to become slightly annoyed.
"Draco, leave Crooks alone!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly. She didn't need to be facing him to know that he was in the process of removing his boots and throwing them in Crookshanks' direction. The distinctive thuds that followed confirmed her conjecture.
"I would never bother your fur ball."
"That's rubbish. I can hear you throwing your shoes."
"You're hot and bothered because you woke up and I was no where to be found." Draco had moved to stand behind Hermione. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his body.
"Are we back to that? Don't be a presumptuous git, Malfoy. You know I don't like it."
Draco moved some of his wife's hair out of the way, exposing her neck to him. He knew that she liked the butterfly kisses he normally showered her neck with, but with the right amount of pressure, it also happened to be ticklish. "What was that you called me?" he asked, kissing her neck.
True to form, Hermione began laughing and she squirmed in his grip. "Malfoy! Malfoy you git- stop!"
He smiled. "Nope." Draco continued his assault on her neck.
"Malfoy!" she wheezed. "Stop. Stop it! Draco!"
He stopped immediately. "Right. That's better, then. What was that you were saying?"
"I was saying what an enormous git you are." Hermione smiled and pushed Draco towards the bed until he stumbled and fell on it. They were only a few minutes behind their usual schedule.
Saturdays were usually spent at the Manor, exploring its vast grounds. Harry and Ginny would come around for tea every so often, much to Draco's dismay, and on occasion, they would even venture over to the Burrow for dinner. Those were the Saturdays that Draco despised the most, or so he told Hermione. Far be it from him to admit they were growing on him.
This Saturday, however, Draco was insistent that they venture out to Diagon Alley.
"Are you looking for something in particular?" Hermione asked, fastening her cloak around her shoulders. She looked over to Draco who was doing the same thing.
"Gifts for you," he said without missing a beat.
Hermione frowned. "I know when you're lying to me."
"Love, I've never lied to you."
"Just last week you told me you were working late with Harry but Parvati told me yesterday she saw you and Harry at the Leaky Cauldron. I knew I smelt firewhiskey when you came home. And-"
"All right," Draco cut off, wrapping his scarf around Hermione. (She liked his better) "I don't lie about the important things. And, if you must know, Potter and I were actually working late before we went to the Leaky Cauldron."
"Yeah, yeah," Hermione said before Dissapparating. She could still hear Draco's laugh as he and the Manor left her sight.
When they arrived, Hermione noticed that the amount of people crowding Diagon Alley was much larger than normal. True, it was a Saturday, but there seemed like an obscene amount of people. Draco, however, seemed unaffected.
"Malfoy," Hermione heard someone call and she and Draco both turned to find Harry and Ginny. The almost giddy expression Harry was wearing didn't escape Hermione.
"Hello, Harry, Ginny," Hermione said pleasantly.
"Potter," Draco greeted after Hermione. "Potter's wife."
Ginny rolled her eyes. She had become used to the numerous nicknames Draco bestowed upon her. "Hermione's husband," Ginny responded. "What brings you here?"
"This is for you," Harry said, shoving a money bag at Ginny, before Hermione had a chance to respond to Ginny's question. "Why don't you lovely ladies go on to Flourish and Blotts? I hear there's a new edition of Hogwarts: A History. Or Madam Malkin's has-"
"Harry, are you trying to get rid of me?" Ginny asked. Harry shook his head defiantly, but nevertheless, Draco placed a similar sized money bag in Hermione's hand and both assured their wives they would come to find them after they had taken care of an errand.
"Did Harry suggest that you two come to Diagon Alley today, too?" Hermione asked Ginny as they walked towards Flourish and Blotts.
"Yes, it was the strangest thing really. I mean, Harry hates shopping."
The two women descended into conversation about the latest gossip but stopped short when they reached Flourish and Blotts.
"Luna," Ginny greeted. "What are you doing standing outside the shop?"
Luna shrugged. "Oh, I wasn't thinking of going in, I'm just waiting for Neville."
Hermione peered inside. "I hate to break it to you Luna, but I don't see him in there."
"Oh, I'm just waiting for him here," Luna said. "He's at Quality Quidditch Supplies and it's much too crowded. The Archer comes out today and Neville wanted to see it."
"The Archer?" Hermione questioned.
"Yes, the new racing broom. It's now the fastest model in the world. Say, where are Harry and Draco?"
Ginny glowered. "I'm guessing Quality Quidditch Supplies."
Hermione and Ginny tuned back in the direction they came from. She knew the crowds were increased in number today and now, Hermione knew exactly why. Harry's more than giddy expression was obvious as well.
"If Harry dares to buy that broom, I won't hesitate to hex him," Ginny muttered.
Hermione, too, was already thinking about the hexes she would be performing if that broom ever made its way into the Manor. To date, Draco owned four racing brooms, plus the broom he inherited from Lucius, bringing the grand total to five.
Ginny was violent when she wanted to be and with her elbows alone, she managed to get herself and Hermione to the entrance of the shop.
True enough, there Harry was with a sleek silver broomstick that could only be the Archer. He was crowded by wizards and witches alike, trying to get a glimpse of the broom.
"Harry Potter!" Ginny screeched, sounding very much like Molly Weasley when she scolded her sons. "I see why you wanted to get rid of me now!"
The volume of the shop had drastically decreased after Ginny had arrived. Harry's smiling faced turned quickly from shocked, to frightened, then to sheepish. It was then Hermione saw Draco emerge from the crowd of people surrounding him, holding an identical broomstick to Harry's.
"Hello, love," Draco said amicably. "Did you get your book?"
Hermione simply started at him.
"Your wife looks angrier than mine," Harry muttered to Draco.
"How is this broom different from your Firebolt?" Hermione asked. "Or the Nimbus 2001 for that matter?"
"It has an acceleration of one hundred and seventy miles per hour. It's the fastest broom in the world," Draco said. To Hermione, he sounded more like a promotion from Which Broomstick, which she had no doubt he had read.
"And?" Hermione further questioned. "Aren't you worried that you'll fall off?" The look that she received from him told her that, no, he most certainly was not worried about that in the slightest.
"And here I was thinking you had faith in my flying skills," Draco drawled, spinning the broomstick on its end.
Hermione wouldn't admit it to him, but after years of watching Harry plummet from the skies, and even Draco on occasion during Hogwarts Quidditch matches, her fear of falling right off the broomstick was justified.
Not too far away, Ginny, who had gotten over her initial anger with Harry's impulse purchase of the Archer, was now examining the broom with great interest, running her hands delicately on the ash handle.
"Weasley doesn't seem too upset," Draco said, following Hermione's eye line to the couple.
"Well, that's because-" Hermione's eyes trailed back to the broom Draco was spinning. "You've obviously not told me about this broom for a while," Hermione said. It was not a question.
"Of course not," Draco denied immediately. "Why would you say that?"
"Your name is engraved on the handle and I know that takes weeks to do. Furthermore, the Archer has just been released today and which means that you must have ordered it weeks before to receive it today with your name on it."
Draco's eyes dropped to the handle where the telltale name 'Malfoy' had been engraved carefully onto the broom under the broom's name. Damn it, he thought. Forgot about that.
He tapped the top of Hermione's head. "Your brain is going to go into overdrive," Draco commented lightly.
Hermione continued to hold her accusing glare at Draco, even though she had gotten over her initial shock. "This certainly doesn't qualify as a gift for me."
Draco smirked. "Of course it does. You'll be able to watch me fly around on it. I dare say, I'll never have looked better."
Hermione continued to glower.
"Now how's about that book? I hear there's a new section on the secret passageways."
When Ginny turned back to look for Hermione, she found instead Draco, wearing a self satisfied smirk. He had his Archer in one hand and Hermione's hand in the other as they walked in the direction of Flourish and Blotts.
It was easily his best money ever spent. Hands down. The acceleration on the broom was simply exhilarating. With his Firebolt, though minimal, direction was required in turning the broom. With the Archer, Draco simply needed to think of the direction he wanted to turn and it would obey.
Well done, Draco, he thought to himself. This was a smart purchase. No, it was a smart investment. Yes, it most assuredly is an investment. After all, he planned on spending very little time away from it.
Draco heard the crunching of gravel next and when he looked down, he frowned. His eyes must be deceiving him. Draco did a nose dive towards the ground.
When his flying boots touched the gravel, Draco was assured that his eyes hadn't been misleading him. There she was, his dear wife dressed in his old Quidditch gear stomping out onto the front lawn, Comet 260 in hand.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Draco asked.
"Flying," Hermione responded, not before giving him a pointed stare. "What does it look like?"
Draco narrowed his eyes. Perhaps he was dreaming. He wasn't aware that the words Hermione and flying could go in the same sentence. "But love, you hate flying," Draco said.
"I do not hate it. I just dislike a great deal about it."
Draco looked over her attire quickly. She had obviously charmed his robe to fit her frame and wore one of her own jumpers instead of his old Hogwarts one. The dragon hide gloves came too, from his Hogwarts closet and he knew because of the green and silver band around the wrists of the gloves. He quite liked the color green on his dear wife.
But the most amusing part of her outfit were her pants, or rather his pants. She hadn't charmed them, but instead, folded the top of the pants over until they fit her waist and rolled the bottoms up. She had let her hair loose and with her attire, she looked very much like the untamed and feral girl he had known back in Hogwarts. Needless to say, it took every ounce of his self control to not throw his broomstick, no investment, aside and ravish her right there on the front lawn.
"Well?" Hermione asked. "Are you going to stand there staring at me or are you going to help me?".
Draco walked over to her, his broom in hand, and watched her with great curiosity. He hadn't seen it many times before but from the looks of it, he would say that his annoyingly intelligent, genius of a wife was stumped.
"You're going to need to mount it, first," Draco instructed. "But that shouldn't be a problem, it's pretty similar to what we did last night."
Hermione responded by soundly slapping Draco's chest. "Honestly, Draco," she muttered, swinging a leg over the handle. "Now what?"
"Move your right hand further up," Draco said. As her hand moved slowly up the handle, Draco could tell she had a death grip on the broom. He worried momentarily that it would snap between her hands. "You're still on the ground," he reminded her. "Loosen your grip a little." But Hermione's hands remained rigid on the handle.
"Okay," she said. "Now I just fly." Draco noted the particular emphasis on the last word.
"Right. Why are you doing this, again?"
A pointed glare.
"I want to see what you are all going on about."
" 'You all' being?"
"You. Harry. Ginny. Ron." Ah, Draco thought. It must be her inferiority complex kicking in. So long as it had nothing to do with her trying to prove anything to him.
Hermione leaned forward, preparing herself to push off of the ground. "Wait!" Draco said. Hermione jumped at his exclamation. "Wear these." He removed his shin and arm guards and placed them on Hermione. His Archer was fast, but Draco figured that Hermione would need the protection more than he would.
"Draco," she said, leaning forward on the handle. "What if I fall off?"
Draco smirked. "Where's all your Gryffindor bravery?"
Hermione swallowed hard. "It's momentarily lost."
Draco looked at Hermione more closely and was surprised. He wasn't used to seeing it, but he saw pure fear reflected in her eyes. He immediately stopped teasing her. "Do you think I would let you fall?" Draco asked quietly.
She didn't answer, but Draco saw her grip loosen on the handle and her shoulders visibly relax. "Push off from the ground," he instructed next. "When you want to brake, just pull the handle towards your body."
Draco watched as Hermione ascended into the air slowly. She stopped when she was no more than five feet up. He frowned and sat across his broom and using only one foot to push off of the ground, Draco followed her up. "Are you all right?" Draco asked when he had reached the same height Hermione had stopped at.
He saw her take a couple of deep breaths before turning to him. "Yes, fine," she answered. Draco noted that the Gryffindor bravery had promptly returned. "Now, how do I turn this thing?"
Draco smirked again. Once upon a time, she had said his name with that amount of scorn. He was glad the tone was now reserved for inanimate flying objects. "Use your outer hand and push the handle in the direction you want to go it. Not too hard!" he exclaimed as Hermione made a sharp right turn.
Hermione shrieked as the broom moved faster than she was willing it to and at that moment, Draco considered telling Hermione to stop. He decided against it eventually; after all, telling his wife to do anything never ended well.
"There is nothing that I can't do," Hermione muttered to herself, turning the broom a couple more times.
Her declaration made Draco laugh. "Of course there isn't," he said dryly, kicking his broom into action.
Hermione followed him Draco up. "That better not be a challenge, Malfoy. I'll have you know, I'm perfectly capable of doing this."
Draco smiled evilly. "Oh, so now it's Malfoy?" he asked, circling around Hermione on his broom. She flew higher to avoid him and Draco followed.
"Don't you dare chase me, Draco Malfoy! I'm completely serious!" Draco didn't think of stopping for one second.
Then, Hermione looked down. So much for capable.
Draco was pretty sure that there was no colour paler than him, but now, he begged to differ. "Love, you all right, then?"
"Hermione?" Draco flew closer to her and saw that she was shaking, Comet 260 and all. "Hermione!"
Her eyes snapped to his. Oh, bugger, he thought. Not the tears. Bugger, bugger, fuck. Draco never really knew what to do when he and Hermione's tears were in the same vicinity. They sort of made him want to cry, too. "It's all right," Draco said rather stupidly. Of course it wasn't. "I won't let you fall."
As the brooms dipped down, Hermione let out an audible whimper and clutched at his wrist tightly, the half moons of her nails digging into his skin. By the time they reached the ground, gracefully, Draco thought, considering he was flying two brooms, Hermione was shaking so violently, that he was sure she was having a fit.
Hermione collapsed, no, rolled onto the ground, and clutched her knees up to her chest.
Draco knelt beside her. "Now, love, I'm sorry I chased you, but you know how I get when you call me that. You aren't going to cry or be sick are you?"
Hermione shook her head. "No," she whispered.
"Good. Well, since that's over and done with, let's go in for breakfast. Actually, it's only six forty five, so if you hurry up we could still get in a pick me up in before seven."
Little known fact about Draco Malfoy; he babbled excessively in times of nervousness.
"Will you just shut up and hold me?"
Draco complied. She was like a little autumn leaf in his arms, shaking and trembling and smelling so much like apples and something else he couldn't place but was very uniquely Hermione.
Her fingers clutched at his outer cloak nimbly as if she were trying to find something stable to hold onto and she turned her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in deeply. Draco quite liked the sensation of Hermione's breath on his neck.
"I will fly that bloody broomstick without having a fit," Draco heard her mutter.
It was then he realized that it wasn't so much that Hermione disliked flying, but rather, was afraid of it.
Harry turned around and looked instantly displeased when he saw Draco standing in his office. "Oh," he said. "It's you."
"Don't act too excited to see me," he said. Draco took a seat in one of Harry's chairs and frowned. Trust Potter to keep the most uncomfortable sitting devices in his office.
"What do you want, Malfoy? I have a meeting."
Draco sighed. No use beating around the bush. "Potter, have you ever been afraid of flying?"
"No," Harry said slowly. Draco watched his expression turn from perplexed to amused. "Don't tell me you are! Oh this is rich."
"Shut up, will you?" Draco said. Harry complied. "Why would I be afraid of flying? I've been flying longer than you."
Harry seemed to consider this for a moment and realized that years of Quidditch and general gitty-ness and heightened ego on his various broomsticks proved this fact. "Well then, what, Malfoy? You know I have better things to do."
"Hermione is afraid of flying," Draco said. "And she is insistent on learning how to, no thanks to you and your dear wife."
"Oh," Harry said and Draco noticed how his expression changed once the conversation switched to the subject of one of his best friends. "Well, Hermione has always been afraid of flying. And what do you mean 'no thanks to me and my dear wife?'" At this, Harry had expectedly leapt out of his seat, sending his chair crashing back into the shelf behind the desk.
"Calm down, Potter," Draco instructed absentmindedly. "I only meant that you and Weasley go on about the joys of flying to a point where my wife feels that she too, needs to indulge in its joys."
"Oh," Harry said again. He supposed it was true. All through their Hogwarts years, he, Ron and Ginny had babbled about Quidditch a fair amount. "I don't think you're going to be able to help her, mate. We've all tried, but its never worked."
"Well, I have to do something!" Draco exclaimed. His outburst shocked Harry. "She can't be having fits every time she attempts to fly."
Harry regarded Draco carefully. He was now pacing up and down the length of his office and it looked like he was worried. He supposed in his unique Malfoy fashion, it was sweet. "Have you tried asking her what makes her afraid?' Harry asked.
Draco sent Harry a look that said 'of course I have, Potter. Do you think I'm stupid?' "She said she's afraid of falling off. And the height. And the feeling. I don't know what the bloody feeling is, but she's afraid of it."
Harry took off his glasses and begun to look reflective. "Show her there's nothing to be afraid of," he said. "The falling part shouldn't be a problem, though I've seen you fall off loads of times."
"Oi! You fall more than I do." Draco had not fallen off loads of times. Some, but not loads.
"The heights and feeling." Harry paused to think, ignoring Draco's previous comment. "You're on your own, Malfoy. Don't know how to help you there."
Draco scowled. He had wasted twenty precious minutes of doing nothing in his own office by talking to Potter and receiving advice he had already thought of. The door suddenly burst open and when Draco turned, he saw the unmistakable Weasley red hair and its owner run into the office.
"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, slightly out of breath. "I'm sorry I'm late, there was a disaster with the- Malfoy what are you doing here?"
Draco couldn't suppress his smirk when he realized that this was the meeting Harry was so on edge about. "Leaving," he said. "Enjoy your meeting Potter. You know I am all for inter-office relations, but for everyone's sake, don't be too loud." Ginny's face turned as red as her hair.
Draco left Harry's office before he had time to retort, but he could still hear the distinctive sound of Potter's whiny voice telling him to 'sod the hell off.'
Draco walked to the elevator with new ideas forming in his head and by the time he reached the Department of International Magical Co-op, he was practically running towards Hermione's office.
He spotted Hermione at her desk, three rows away from the door with her head buried into some document or another. "Hello, love," Draco said, leaning over her desk.
Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice, causing her hair to fly in multiple directions when she looked up at him. "Malfoy." She had a habit of calling him that at work. "What are you doing here?"
"Would a 'hello, Draco, you're looking especially dashing today,' be too much to ask for?"
Hermione rolled her eyes as Draco sat on the edge of her desk. "Hello, Draco," she said. "Your tie is looking rather crooked today."
Hermione stood up to fix it and Draco noted that she was wearing the ridiculously expensive perfume he had bought her a couple weeks ago. It pleased him. "Seriously, Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Back to Malfoy, Draco noted.
"Potter kicked me out of his office."
Hermione frowned. "Why? What did you do to him?"
Draco scoffed. "You couldn't be quicker to jump to his defense. I didn't do anything. Rather, it was what Weasley was about to do to him."
"What? Oh. Oh," Hermione paused and narrowed her eyes at him. "At work? We're certainly not doing that."
"You say that now. You know you can't resist this," Draco said, gesturing to himself up and down.
"I will say this always. Is that what you came to tell me?"
Draco smirked. "I have come to inform you, my dear wife, that I am now committed to this little flying endeavor of yours and I will henceforth dedicate my time to helping your furtherment in this pursuit." Hermione smiled. She supposed this was Draco's way of saying, 'this isn't totally nutters so I'll help you with it.'
"Thank you," Hermione said in what Draco could only describe as typical Hermione fashion. "I'm glad you think that this is useful."
There was an awkward silence in which Draco and Hermione had nothing to say to each other, but were unwilling to part presences.
"Well, I'm off then." Draco was suddenly acutely aware that the rest of Hermione's department was watching them with great interest. He walked to the door, but stopped halfway as if he had realized he had forgotten something and turned back. Catching his wife off-guard, Draco turned Hermione's un-expecting face towards him and kissed her. She was shocked at first, Draco was never one to show displays of affection in public, but as his lips slowly coerced hers open, she wound an arm around his neck and tilted her head up towards him.
"Just giving your department something to talk about at lunch," Draco said to Hermione quietly before turning back towards the door.
Hermione turned back to her documents with a small smile on her face. Her husband never ceased to surprise her.
The next Saturday, Draco unceremoniously dragged her out of bed at nine thirty and told her to meet him on the front lawn. When she was dressed and ready, she noted that Draco only had his Archer in hand.
"You must not know me very well if you think I'm getting on that," Hermione said, looking at the Archer up and down with disgust.
"You must not know me very well if you think I'm letting you fly on my precious."
Hermione huffed. "Honestly, Draco, it's a broomstick, not a baby." Draco ascended into the air lazily, leaving Hermione staring up at him. "How is this benefiting me?" she asked. "I'm still on the ground!"
"Just watch, and try to not ask too many questions." Draco was lucky he was out of Hermione's reach, otherwise he would have been subjected to one of her punches, reserved especially for him. "You're afraid of falling off," Draco said. "So I'm going to show you how difficult it is to do that."
Draco leaned sideways on either side of the broom and met with the invisible walls his Barrier charm provided. He took the broom even higher and continued to test the boundaries of the charm. "See?" he called down to her. Hermione looked almost as pale as he normally was. He turned in a full circle around the broom and continued up into the air before completely getting off the broom and only holding on with one hand. Even with several feet between them, Draco heard Hermione's very audible shriek.
As he attempted to swing himself back on his broom, Draco realized it would have been smarter had he conducted this experiment closer to ground level.
"If you fall to your death I won't be sorry for you at all!"
At this, Draco laughed and to his horror, he felt his grip slipping on the handle. Nevertheless, he managed to get himself seated back on his broom and returned to Hermione's side. "You wouldn't be sorry if your wildly attractive husband fell to his death while trying to help you conquer your fears?"
Hermione shrugged, visibly relaxed now that Draco was back on the ground. "Not a bit. After all, he was the idiot who decided to dangle off a broomstick."
"That was hurtful," Draco said.
Hermione snorted. "As if. Now, do you want to help me conquer my fears or are you going to keep pretending your ego is bruised?"
Draco laughed lightly and summoned his Comet 260. "Conquering it is then."
Draco's plans were quickly thwarted and instead of spending the better part of the day outside, he and Hermione had been confined to activities inside the walls of the Manor.
"Blasted rain," Draco muttered.
Hermione snapped her book shut. "Why do you keep saying that? You've said it at least nine times tonight."
Draco huffed. "I have not."
"Fine. You've also said wretched rain, goddamned English weather and when in Merlin's blue balls will it stop, but I figured the same message was implied."
"I'm glad to know you listen to me so carefully," Draco said. He gave the piece of thick, brown hair he was twirling around his finger a playful tug.
"Ow!" Hermione exclaimed.
"That couldn't have hurt."
She frowned. "Well, no, it didn't, but you couldn't possibly know that." Hermione slapped him lightly on the arm.
"See? It hurts."
"I was kidding. You know, I could turn you in for domestic violence. I'd have a strong case."
Hermione laughed. "You're turning me in for one slap?"
"Not just one. Just today, you've slapped me countless times and don't think I've forgotten that punch in third year."
"That hardly counts. We weren't domestic in third year."
"Inconsequential. The point is, I would have a case."
"Like you would turn me in. You can't live without me."
His confession made Hermione blush and as she snuggled herself on her favorite spot on Draco's shoulder, she was pretty sure he could feel the heat emitting off her head.
Hermione turned back to her book in order to hide her burning face and Draco resumed playing with the various strands of her hair.
"Its stopped raining," Hermione said after an elongated period of time. Draco immediately smiled, perfect, he thought, and jumped up from the couch, pulling Hermione with him. "Have you lost it?" she asked as he led them to the door. "What do you think you're doing?"
"We're going to get some air."
Hermione groaned. "Again? I thought we were done with that for the day." Draco didn't feel like correcting her; they had barely spent an hour out of doors before the rain had started.
"I'm doing this for you, love. Remember what an excellent flyer I am?" Draco retrieved his Archer, which he had strategically placed by the entrance and led Hermione outside.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I thought I told you that you must be insane to think I'm getting on that thing."
Draco ignored her. "I have a new solution," he said simply.
"You have a new solution."
"That's what I said."
"Well, what is this solution?"
"You're getting on with me."
Hermione laughed. And laughed and laughed. "Oh, you're serious?" she said eventually.
"I wouldn't joke about this," Draco said, gesturing to his broom.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Explain to me the logic in your solution."
"You need someone to show you how to properly fly a broom and how difficult it is to fall off, and no offense love, your flying skills aren't quite up to par yet for me to believe that of you."
"I do take offense. And what makes you think that you're qualified to do that?"
"I am more than qualified. Seriously, you've seen me on a broom. I look good."
"Get over yourself," Hermione said. "Fine. If we're doing this, we're not going on that."
"What? Of course we are."
"No, we most certainly are not."
They entered into a silent staring competition with each other in the darkness. Hermione could vaguely see Draco cock an eyebrow at her, but she turned up her chin haughtily, challenging him.
"Fine!" Draco said finally, throwing his free hand up. "Have it your way."
Hermione couldn't stop the smirk that grew across her face but it immediately disappeared when she saw Draco stomp back onto the front law with a black broom in his hand.
"I was thinking more along the lines of the Comet," Hermione said, crossing her arms.
Draco frowned. "It's this or the Firebolt. You were right, I don't think you should go near the Archer."
Hermione smiled and walked toward him. She was glad that was all straightened out.
"Because you know," he continued. "Something might happen to it."
Hermione gave Draco her best glower as he mounted the Nimbus. "Keep that up," Hermione said, getting on in front of Draco, "and I'll start believing you love that broom more than me."
Draco pressed his lips to Hermione's cold cheek. "Never." Wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist, Draco found that he could both control the broom and hold his wife.
He felt Hermione stiffen against him when the broom climbed into the air. "Close your eyes," he instructed. "And I'll know if they're open because your scream is particularly distinctive."
Hermione huffed. "I hope you know you're particularly gitty when you're flying."
"Don't worry. I do know. Now, concentrate."
"On what? My eyes are closed, remember?"
"Feel." Draco placed Hermione's hands on top of his on the handle.
So she felt. When she really concentrated, Hermione found that she could in fact feel the slight changes in the pressure of his hands when he wanted to turn and the muscles he used to make said turn. She could feel the way Draco's shoulders moved as the broom ascended up and dipped down in the air. And although they weren't moving very fast at all, Hermione could feel the wind against her face, blowing her thick hair away from her forehead and eyes. Coupled with the constant rise and fall of Draco's chest, Hermione found this version of flying oddly settling.
"Whatever you do, don't look down when I stop. Just look ahead." When Hermione felt the broom drift to a stop, she had the overwhelming urge to look down. Instead, when she opened her eyes, she gasped. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had seen the stars this close. Looking over her shoulder at Draco, Hermione could tell he was very, very pleased with himself.
"I used to go out the Astronomy tower during hallway patrol and do this."
"Fly around aimlessly?" Hermione questioned.
She could practically feel Draco rolling his eyes. "No. Look at the stars." Draco was silent for what seemed like a long time. "Lucius was never great on a broom and my mother was somewhat like you, slightly scared shitless of flying, I mean. The sky seemed like the only place I could get away from them. The stars were a bonus during the summer."
Hermione paused. Draco was never one to share information about his childhood with anybody, even her. The topic came up in passing every now and again and when Hermione asked him questions, he would sulk, grumble and ask why she wanted to know before giving edited answers. "You'll have to show me sometime," she said eventually.
Hermione turned her head over her shoulder, tilted her head towards Draco's and kissed him. The kiss started off as it always did, light and tentative and escalated until they were both wrestling for dominance, trying to find stability, trying to find equality.
"Don't, " Draco whispered, breaking away. "Start something you don't plan on finishing." His eyes were closed and Hermione could feel his arousal pressing against her.
She kissed him again. "What makes you think I don't plan on finishing? Don't I always follow through?"
Hermione was pretty sure she had never seen a bigger, shit-eating grin on her husband's face before.
With one hand, Draco began working furiously at undoing the numerous buttons on Hermione's blouse, careful not to pop any off, lest he receive a nasty hex for ruining yet another item of clothing. He let the blouse float to the ground when he had it off her shoulders and noticed with extreme pleasure that Hermione had decided not to wear a bra.
Her eyes turned away from his, following the blouse's path back to the ground. "Look at me," Draco said softly, catching her lips in his. "Don't look around and don't look down. Look at me. I won't let you fall."
His hand drifted down to the waistband of her pants, working at the fastenings there as he dropped his head to her neck, pressing soft kisses along her collarbone, neck and breasts. Draco smiled as a soft moan blew past his ear.
Meanwhile, Hermione was trying desperately to slip Draco's shirt over his head while keeping her balance. Reluctantly, Draco stopped his exploration of Hermione's body and easily took it off and let the shirt drop to the ground. Hermione smiled at the revelation of Draco's sculpted body and let her fingertips glide across his smooth, pale skin.
When they had both successfully sent their pants flying earthbound, Draco held himself perfectly still over Hermione, barely breathing. "You're sure you want to do this?" he asked, the 'this' in reference to sex while airborne.
Hermione smiled and pulled his head down to hers. "A little late for that question, isn't it?" she asked, and with that, he slowly pressed into her.
The stark contrast of the pure heat of her and the coldness around him was almost unbearable. He was only slightly aware of Hermione moaning around him, clutching at his shoulders, biting at his neck.
Draco started to move slowly, pushing against the muscles of her walls holding him in place. "I won't let you fall," he whispered again. "Relax."
He increased his pace when Hermione lifted a leg and wrapped it securely around his waist. Draco knew exactly what Hermione liked and as he rolled his hips into hers, he heard the mantra of his name from her lips. "Draco, Draco, Draco."
At the fifth cry of his name, no more than a whisper passing her lips, Hermione closed her eyes and let the inevitable sensation take over her.
Draco groaned as Hermione clawed at his back, his name from her lips providing a perfect cadence for him. He was moving at a furious pace and as he felt Hermione's walls collapse and contract around him, Draco knew he wouldn't last much longer.
"Fuck," Draco muttered, thrusting once more. His eyes drifted shut as he felt himself release into her, trying to keep as still as possible so as to keep them both from falling off. He barely noticed Hermione leaning into him and pressing her lips to his.
"I think," she said breathlessly, her voice sweeping past his ear. "I rather like this version of flying."
Draco could only smile in agreement. He hadn't even noticed the blasted rain that returned with a vengeance.
By Monday morning, Hermione was sure her back was going to split in two. They had both realized afterwards that a heightened cushioning charm would have been more than beneficial.
But nevertheless, as she sat at her desk, pulling out her various parchments and quill, Hermione smiled. She quite liked mixing up their routine every once in a while.
"Morning, Ginny," Hermione greeted, looking up as Ginny dragged her body and slumped onto her desk.
"I hate Mondays. Remind me never to- Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth. "What in Merlin's name happened to your neck?"
Hermione felt her cheeks flame up and she quickly loosened the knot holding her hair up. Damn, she had forgotten the ugly line the broom had left. "It's nothing," she said. "Just a souvenir from this weekend."
Ginny's expression quickly changed. "You're cheating on Malfoy?" Hermione instinctively ducked her head closer to her desk.
"No, and shush! It's a souvenir he knows about."
Ginny connected the dots in record speed. "Oh!" she said. "Well, how'd you get it? Looks pretty nasty."
"Draco's been teaching me how to fly and-"
"You didn't!" Ginny shrieked, jumping to her feet. "Hermione, you minx! On a broomstick?"
"Ginny, you couldn't possibly be louder!" The entire department had turned and looked at them. Hermione was sure by lunchtime, scratch that, by the next half hour, everybody would know about her and Draco's airborne escapade.
"Well?" Ginny said, sitting back down. "How was it? I've always wanted to try, but it seems rather uncomfortable. Of course I could always-"
"Ginny!" Ginny looked at Hermione innocently. "This conversation is over."
Ginny rolled her eyes. Honestly, she had no problems sharing the details of her personal life with Hermione, although she wasn't sure if Hermione appreciated that. "No matter," Ginny said eventually. "I have the whole day to bother you about this."
After his usual hour of sitting around and delegating his tasks to his subordinates, Draco made a visit to Harry's office.
"Potter, I feel duty bound to inform you that I, unlike you and your useless lot, have managed to accomplish what you've deemed impossible." Draco said, sitting down on one of Harry's chairs and propping his feet up on his desk
Harry jumped at the unannounced intrusion to his office. "And I feel duty bound to inform you, you lousy git, that you make no sense this early in the morning."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Flying, Potter. Seems as though my dear wife has discovered it is quite enjoyable."
Harry frowned. "Really? How'd you manage that?"
Draco smirked. "Can't tell you, after all I wouldn't want to break my promise to the missus. But it was pure genius, if I do say so myself."
"Good for you," Harry said. "Was that all? Unlike you, I actually do work at my job."
"That was all. Just wanted to rub something else that I can do and you couldn't in your face."
They were interrupted with a loud presence running into Harry's office. "Harry! Hermione's told me something that we simply must try, it's- bugger, Malfoy, don't you have a job?"
Draco regarded her coolly, his lips twisting up in a smirk. "A tip, Weasley, a cushioning charm works wonders. Oh and Potter," Draco said, gesturing between Harry and Ginny, "Remember; don't be too loud."
As he made his way to the lift, Draco heard Harry's "we're not doing that!" and Ginny's loud protest.
On a particularly warm and clear July night, Draco summoned his Archer while Hermione listed out the pros and cons of each of his broomsticks.
"The handle of the Nimbus isn't nearly as long as the Archer. I feel like I'm going to fall off every time I'm on it, " she said to Draco.
"Love, you say that about every broom but you've never fallen before. What's wrong with the Firebolt, then?" He was really playing devil's advocate, Draco fully agreed that the Archer was the most comfortable of his broomsticks. The enjoyment he received when watching Hermione attempt to argue her positions with him was genuinely amusing and too good to pass up.
"The Firebolt has that annoying bump on the handle. I don't see how you could find it comfortable."
"True, but I'm not the one on the bottom."
Slap. "You are so insensitive sometimes. I don't know why I married you."
"Isn't it obvious? I'm so good in bed, you simply can't live without me. That, and of course, you're madly in love with me."
Hermione scoffed. "Draco, you're not that good in bed and I am not madly in love with you."
Absentmindedly, Draco sent a Rictusempra in Hermione's direction and she collapsed, rolling on the ground in laughter.
"Stop!" Hermione managed to choke out. "Draco! Stop it!"
Unaffected, Draco leaned down to tie the shoelaces of his boots. Whether intentional or not, Hermione had managed to kick Draco in a way that caused him to fall beside her and she tried her best to whack him into submission.
Draco pinned Hermione's squirming body beneath his easily and wandlessly ended the jinx. "Do you have something to say to me?" he asked conversationally. Merlin, but she had never looked more beautiful with her cheeks flushed from laughing and her hair wild around her face.
There was a long silence. "I suppose you're quite good in bed," Hermione teased.
Draco frowned. "Not good enough."
"That's the best I can offer."
Draco smirked. "Don't make me do this," he said, dropping his head down to nip lightly around Hermione's neck.
"All right, all right! You're fantastic in bed, is that what you wanted to hear?"
He smiled. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear. And?"
Hermione leaned up to kiss him, threading her fingers through his blond hair. "And I'm madly in love with you, you intolerable prat."
"Oh. Okay," Draco said. "That's good." He got to his feet, pulling Hermione along with him and together, they took off in the air, this time with Hermione controlling their flight.
"Well?" Hermione asked, as she stopped at their favorite place just above the ancient oaks of the Manor. Draco was right, the stars were breathtakingly exquisite during the summer.
"Well, what?" Draco questioned.
"Don't 'well, what' me, Malfoy. You know exactly what I want to hear."
He let the silence play its role. Hermione sent an elbow crashing back into his ribs. "All right, you abusive woman!" Hermione turned over her shoulder to look at Draco. "I'm madly in love with you, too."
Hermione smiled. "You'd better be."
And at least once a week after Hermione had discovered the simple joys of flying, she accompanied Draco on his early morning or sometimes, late night pick up flying. She didn't mind, it was a nice way to mix up their routine and Draco couldn't have been more pleased. After all, he thought, there simply was no point in being married if he was forced to fly solo.
Author's Note- I hope you liked it! This was so much fun to write, and a nice little break from all the reading I do. I realize, even in the magical world, sex on a broomstick is a bit of a fantasy, but once the idea entered my head, I couldn't get it out. Hopefully, you still enjoyed it despite the improbability of said event.
Thanks so much for reading!