A Change in Plans - A Dramione Fanfiction (Complete)

Chapter 1: Malfoy

Draco 2 August 2017

Bloody hell what is that noise? Not the best way to wake up.
Looking over at the other person in this bed, I remember what happened last night. She was crying, confused - which is so unlike her, and almost desperate - again not like her. The strongest witch I know, hell she battled You Know Who while still in her teens, and the brightest witch of our age (thank goodness I'm a wizard, I chuckle). What brought her to this point is nothing short of heartbreaking.
Bringing her back to her suite after everything that happened last night was the best thing, albeit not the smartest thing, that we did all night.

Now her blasted phone won't shut off! What could be her password to shut it up?

Her birthday - nope

Weasel's birthday - nope

Their anniversary - nope

Kids' birthdays - nope

How the hell do I remember all these bloody dates? Astoria would complain that I couldn't ever remember a single date, which was shit - I remembered them. Chose to ignore them, but I remembered them. Her's I had no reason to remember, but they just come naturally.
What the hell is it then? Air raid sirens are going off and with the hangover I have, I am having a bloody hell time thinking straight.
And how is she sleeping through it?
Round 2 of trying to shut this blasted thing up!

Potter's birthday - nope

September 1st - nope

If she had an iPhone, it would be so much easier. My work with Steve Jobs - brilliant wizard by the way, matches Granger in his intellect - on the original iPhones has given me a ton of knowledge, especially hacking them. And over the years, I can't say that it hasn't been useful. She's getting a bloody iPhone8 once we get back to London, even though they aren't due to release until October. If I don't have one sent here today!
I think back to the important days in her life. Because she is so much brighter than to have either 1111 or 1234 as her bloody password.
Could it be? That day is famous in all the wizard world: May 2nd, 1998?
0205 I type in on the bloody contraption.

A brilliant picture of her and Weasel and their two kids lights the screen. Good now I can shut it up.

Then it hits me how important that day really is. It's the day that I 'helped' them or at least didn't try and kill them again - the 'Golden Trio', the day Potter technically died, You Know Who was destroyed, and our world changed for the better. She was there for all of it. Bloody 'Golden Trio', it should have been the 'Golden Duo' because Weasel didn't really contribute much to them. She was the brains, Potter the brawn - if you could even say that - he was more the destined one and she was the one saving his miserable arse. She still was stronger than either of them, after what I saw her go through at the hands at my bat shit crazy aunt, I can't imagine what she went through afterwards. Her's was so different than mine. She probably felt guilty for surviving. I wished I didn't also, but that is because my family and my name and all the misery my insane family projected during You Know Who's rise to power. I didn't want any of it, but it came with being a Malfoy I guess. We both have scars - physical ones and those that you don't see - from that time. And it shows that we were on polar opposites of the battle. She was the heroine, and I was the anti-hero. I hold her arm and look at our scars, I will hold her until those scars fade away - which I know they never will.

I look over at her, now that the phone is not screaming at me. She cried so much last night. She drank a little, probably still too much for her. We talked and we... Nah we didn't, I remember. I couldn't take advantage of her like that, even though I wanted to in every way. But looking at the ring on her left ring finger - yeah - we did do that. I hold her hand just looking at it. The proud Gryffindor wearing a ring that screams Slytherin, if truth be told. I know she doesn't hold those animosities anymore from our school years, but the irony is still not lost on me.
Her hair is fanned out over the crisp white Egyptian cotton pillows here in her hotel suite, with the light and dark golden browns, copper flecks, and even a touch of blonde or maybe grey curls going everywhere. Her tawny eyes still shut. Her tanned skin looks radiant. She hasn't aged a day since I last saw her almost a year ago, at a formal Ministry dinner with him. Really she could have done better than him, and yet she stayed. Was it out of perceived desperation, or was there more to their relationship. Last night told me there was more, but also so much less.

Last night, after that did she really say yes? The green emerald in a platinum snake setting that curved around her finger, says she did.

"Good morning Mrs. Malfoy" I think, now with my head on straight. "Hermione Jean Malfoy" always sounded better anyways.