Chapter 16

810 15 1
                                    

- NOT MY STORY!! ALL CREDITS TO @greenflowerpot ON A03!!

There was almost nothing Draco would deny Hermione.

She was the shining light of his life, the focus of all his obsession since he was six years old, lovely and perfect in every single way. Anything he could think to give her he did. But truthfully, despite being spoiled by Draco since she was a girl, Hermione had rather simple needs. She didn't ask for much and so the few things she did want were hers without question:

The orange kitten with the strange, squashed face that they passed in Diagon Alley.

Books upon books upon books that were delivered in a constant stream to the estate, so many that Draco had to expand the library.

And, more than anything else, Draco.

He was hers in entirety. Draco's ancestors would have disapproved of the famous Malfoy diamond on the ring finger of a muggleborn, but who cared what they thought? He dropped to one knee, heart in his throat, by the lake they grew up next to.

But there was one thing Hermione wanted very much that Draco was not sure he could give.

"Please," she whispered, late at night. "Just one. I want to see you be a father."

Draco had to close his eyes so that he couldn't see the imploring shine in her eyes. He would be lost if he did.

"Anything else," he promised. "Anything else you want, it's yours."

There were still too many days when Draco felt the Dark Lord's force pulsing through him, when he looked in the mirror and saw Voldemort's face looking back. He was terrified of hurting Hermione, continually haunted by the times he felt he had lost control. On their wedding night Draco had hiked up Hermione's dress and taken her right against the wall in the foyer, too greedy to wait. When he saw the ripped satin of her pretty white gown afterwards, the way her lovely updo had become tangled and undone from the pull of his fingers, he had almost been sick.

"I can take all of you," Hermione whispered, smiling, when Draco apologized over and over. But he wasn't sure.

How could he be a father? And to Hermione's child, no less, a baby that would undoubtedly be as good and as pure as its mother. He would only ruin it.

But she pleaded to the point that he could not bear to deny her. She deserved whatever she wanted, and she was insistent that he would be a wonderful father. Draco loved her enough to believe it. But before he could acquiesce, Hermione—in an unusual instance of putting her foot down—declared that she would no longer be taking contraceptive potion.

"I'm done with them," she said. His sweet little wife looked nervous but more determined than he had ever seen her. "Leave me if you wish, but you won't change my mind."

"You know I could never leave you, sweetheart," Draco said, amused. "Don't say that."

"Then I suppose you'll have to go without bedding me."

Draco's eyebrow raised and he bit back a smile. So this was her plan.

"You think this is how you will get what you want? By betting that I can't keep my hands off of you?"

To his immense surprise, Hermione merely took off her satin pajamas, threw her panties in Draco's lap and walked away.

He had never seen this side of her before, and frankly Draco was inclined to see the thing through. For almost a week he played the game with her, exercising too much of his self-restraint. He pretended to be unmoved when she wore only lingerie around the house, making herself little whipped cream desserts in the kitchen while clothed only in scraps of lace. He tried to appear as impassive as possible when she kneeled between his thighs in the library, big brown eyes peering up at him while she pressed kisses higher and higher up his leg. He hoped she did not hear his tight little frustrated exhales, though he was sure the more visible evidence of his arousal was on full display.

But when he woke one morning to her straddling his thigh, rocking gently back and forth until she came with a little cry all over his pajama bottoms, it was too much.

"Get on your hands and knees," he said softly.

She obeyed instantly, an excited smile on her lips.

Draco knelt behind her, using one hand to line himself up with her entrance before pushing into her with one forceful thrust.

"This is what you want?" he hissed, pulling her hips higher until the angle was just so. "You want me to lose control?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Hermione moaned ecstatically.

"Did you know I was going to get you pregnant anyway, hm? If you hadn't been so impatient..."

It took just a minute before he made her come, shivering, on his cock. Draco fucked into her for only a little longer before his own release came. He finished with a choked groan, pushing himself into her as far as he could go.

"You were going to get me pregnant anyway and you still let me act like a fool all week?" Hermione asked, pouting, when she had recovered. "Draco, I bought a book on it and everything!"

He only laughed and pulled her in for a kiss.

──────⊱⁜⁜⁜⊰──────

They named their daughter Isabella, and she was the missing piece of Draco's heart that he did not know he lacked.

Curly blonde hair, Hermione's brown eyes. A spectacular Malfoy smirk and an insatiable appetite for reading. She clung like a koala cub to them, chattered endlessly about her every thought.

"Most dandelions here are yellow, but Japanese dandelions are white," Isabella shared when they walked past a clump of the bright weeds.

"Hm, are you sure?" Draco asked. "I think they might be purple. Or red."

"No, roses are red! Well, some of them. And some carnations," she giggled. "Like your eyes, papa."

Draco could not help but smile.

"Daddy did you know that dandelions are in the same family as sunflowers?"

"I didn't, precious."

"And—and—there are one hundred species of dandelion!"

"Are there now?" Draco asked, amused. "Where did you learn all this?"

"I read it in mummy's book! The big herbowling book!"

"You read my Herbology book, Isabella?" Hermione laughed. "That's for when you go to school!"

"I'll never go to school," Isabella declared. "I want to live with you forever, mummy and daddy!"

She was a slight little thing, thin with too-big eyes and strange interests. Draco found her odd in the most endearing way but worried about how her future classmates would treat her.

"What if she's bullied?" he asked Hermione for the umpteenth time.

Hermione only nuzzled into his neck, kissed his jaw.

"Look at you," she laughed. "Such a protective daddy."

But it was no laughing matter, Draco thought, and he decided to take precautionary measures. Hermione found the two of them the next day in the library, Isabella earnestly repeating after Draco.

"Be nice to me!" she recited.

"That's right, sweetheart. And what do you say after that?"

"Don't bother me!" the little girl hollered.

"Very good, sugar plum. And if they still don't leave you alone?" Draco prodded encouragingly.

"My papa killed Moldyvor!"

Hermione swooped in at once, picked Isabella up and carried her to the kitchens.

"Let's go, Isabella," she giggled, bouncing the little girl on her hip. "I think we have chocolate croissants in the kitchen!"

Isabella kicked her heels in excitement at the promise of sweets. Draco laughed good naturedly but as soon as Hermione's back was turned he waved wildly to regain his daughter's attention.

"Vole-dee-mort." Draco mouthed.

"Moldy," Isabella muttered, losing interest.

Draco huffed. They would have to practice some more later.

His Girl by greenflowerpotWhere stories live. Discover now