A Change in Plans - A Dramione Fanfiction (Complete)

Chapter 3 Malfoy

Draco 2 August 2017

I got up before she woke up. That bloody phone of hers keeps going off. She has three separate alarms, I guess so she doesn't oversleep. With her hangover today, that must be murder on her head, it's needed to move her to wake up.

I slipped off her ring before she woke. Better to break it to her slowly. I just slide it on my pinky finger so it doesn't get lost anywhere. I look at mine that is on the finger next to it. They are a matching set, mine without the large emerald though - just smaller ones for the snake's eyes. They are all part of one emerald that was has been in our family for hundreds of years. Only I can take off hers, and only she can take off mine. They are one of the family's most prized and despised heirlooms. Most of the family doesn't want them because of their enchantments. I cannot cheat on her as long as it is on my finger, like I would ever cheat on Hermione. Our family hasn't married for love in eons, so they usually cheat on their spouse, sometimes with multiple partners. I didn't cheat on my ex, but yeah I didn't love her either. So I could not consider giving her these. Ever. The only one I ever thought was worthy of these rings is Hermione. Yeah we were a little reckless last night, but 'to have and to hold her from this day forward' - it was worth it.

She's running around the kitchen in just her robe over my t shirt she wore to bed last night. She isn't even seeing my feet stick out off the sofa's edge. Making coffee - darling that one thing is going to be a life saver for us both - and feeding her dog.

The dorky, yoda like looking furry beast is lying right next to me. She's a good dog all things considered. She likes getting scratched behind her ears. I think this dog has made me into a dog person-ish. I was never, nor probably will be ever considered an animal person of any type, but this mutt - yeah I like her. Even when I came in last night, carrying Hermione, she never barked, just tried to do mid-air somersaults or have her butt fly from her tail wagging so violently. And violent that tail is. Don't be on the wrong side of her when she wags it. It is like being hit with a small plastic beater's bat over and over and over.
"Padfoot! Where are you, you mangy mutt? Breakfast!"
Tears are coming to my eyes, trying to restrain myself from laughing. I bite the insides of my lips together so nothing comes out.
She named the bloody mutt after my cousin!
"Where are you fuzz butt? Fur face?"

When Hermione races back into the bedroom I lean down to whisper to her, "good girl. Momma doesn't need to know I'm here right now. I'll get you a treat later, promise. How's a t-bone sound?"

I hear the shower turn on. I resist the urge to go in there and surprise her. I just lean back on the baby blue with golden painted (maybe?) wood trimmed, velvet tufted couch (whose idea was that? I am calling the interior designer and we're reworking the palate for this hotel starting today), closing my eyes. The couch itself is comfortable, but I don't recall ever approving something this gawd awful. The rest of the living room is simple: fireplace with a flat screen tv over it, two massive bookshelves full of Muggle classics (no wonder she was put in this room), cherry hardwood floors and matching beams that contrast against the white in the ceiling. There are also two baby blue cotton oversized stuffed chairs (the decorator will hear about this!) that flank the fireplace, each with their own gold and glass end table. Three large ceiling fans try and circulate the constant air conditioning. An overly plush - borderline furry - rug sits under a mismatched mid century vintage style coffee table. Next to this atrocious room, is a small kitchenette with a hot plate, small fridge, coffee maker (upgrade that to a coffee station when I call the designer), and sink. A few shelves hold basic cups and plates for use while here.

I feel my phone vibrate under me, it's Blaise Zabini, my complete right hand man at work and in life. Since I am the figurehead of Malfoy Industries International (he came up with the nickname MII or MEEEEEEEE as he calls it) - namesake, President and CEO; Blaise is my number two in all respects: he runs the day to day operations while I am the big picture person. Everything from covering up my mistakes - which are few - to reminding me of dates with my now ex wife, he keeps me on track. I text him back 'Bad time, call you later, need to call the office anyways so we'll talk then, but there is other news too.' Send
In no time he responds, 'so what do I tell the board? Where on Earth is Draco Malfoy again?'
'Brazil. Rio. Tell them I am checking out one of our hotel holdings that apparently needs to be redone from what I'm seeing. It isn't a lie either.' Send
The phone vibrates again. 'Draco! Rio? Why Rio? Fine I'll handle the board today. Enjoy your vacation.'
I can't help it, he has me laughing slightly. Can't disturb the Missus in the next room over, since the shower is now off. My mind wanders into there.
Back to reality, Blaise well he knows me too well from being kids together, school, the war, and right afterwards when I took over the family businesses I picked him. He just knows where all my skeletons are and how to keep them hidden. 'Not so much a vacation per se. I'll tell you more later mate. But I'm going to start with sorry.' Send
With a buzz I get: 'what now? I probably don't want to know, knowing you. I'll put the PR team on standby. Talk soon.'