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“She’s just the most incredible witch on the planet.”
“Who?”
“Granger!” He scoffed – though it came out more like a wobbly splutter – as he attempted to roll his eyes. “Obviously!”
“Gran… You mean Hermione?” Blaise raised a carefully sculpted eyebrow at his friend – who happened to be clumsily hunched over the bar counter with half-lidded silvery eyes, dishevelled pale-blond hair and with his usually alabaster skin now sporting a ridiculously bright reddish hue all over his face. He was grasping an empty glass of firewhiskey in his hand – swirling it around in the air until the barman scooted over to fill it up once again (which probably wouldn’t help their current predicament at all) – and happily chugging it down as if it were a glass of icy water and he was a man stranded on a desert.
Oh Gods, this was getting bad.
How had Draco not passed out yet or straight up died from alcohol poisoning was beyond him… Though he did have the suspicion that if the man were to bleed, it’d be nothing but pure booze pouring out of his veins.
“Someone said Her-my-oh-ney?” A stupid sniggering echoed from the opposite side of his seat and Blaise resisted the urge to bash his head against a wall as he turned to stare at the other blabbering (and utterly wasted) friend.
Somehow, Theo had managed to get even drunker than Draco himself – which was surprising, given how the former had been practically shoving an entire tequila bottle down the latter’s throat just moments earlier and he had consumed not even half the amount of alcohol in the meantime.
But now, he was slumping down on his set – almost falling face-first on the floor – with his limbs sprawled in every direction like a lazy cat dozing off under the sun. He had a goofy crooked smile on his lips as he giggled like a teenage schoolgirl talking about her crush as he continued with a happy hiccup. “She’s a doll!”
Blaise sighed at the pitiful scene before him, rubbing a sore spot on his temple as he felt a headache creeping up on the back of his mind. Those two were far gone now – not an ounce of sanity remained on their minds due to the alcohol, and he had no idea what to do about it.
Not that the others were faring much better.
Greg – who was pestering the poor musician by the side of the room – was now singing Piano Man at the top of his lungs (with some convincing tears free-falling from his eyes with each verse) as he downed his tenth shot of firewhiskey of the night. Honestly, the most surprising thing about this situation was the fact that he knew a muggle song by heart.
Next to him, Astoria, Pansy and Daphne were readily dancing to the butchered beat, adding in their own spin on the lyrics to make the most garbled mess of a song he had ever had the displeasure of hearing. And given how their strawberry daiquiris, piña coladas and margaritas had an average of thirty-percent alcohol content per drink, it was safe to say they were pissed beyond reasonable doubt.
Even Adrian and Marcus – two of the more reserved and generally level-headed people in their friend group – were now snogging each other senseless down in the bloody filthy alleyway just outside the pub – which was a little amusing, given how they often claimed to be ‘straighter than arrows’.
(Well, arrows did have to bend and twist to reach their targets, so he supposed they were both correct in their analogy).
All in all, it was clear that everyone had the goal of getting absolutely plastered that night and they were well on their way to accomplish it effortlessly – Well… Everyone with the exception of Draco, but he had positively failed on remaining sound of mind anyway.
In fact, the only reason Blaise himself wasn't babbling out like a fool in love or dirty dancing on top of barstools (like Theo had been doing only moments ago) was because he had taken it upon himself to be the responsible wizard out of the bunch, making sure that all of his friends would get home safely and in one piece.
To do that, he decided to stick with his sobriety – sipping on the sickly-sweet pumpkin juice with disdain washing over his tongue – and glared at his friends having the time of their lives, with not a care in the world, carefully watching out for any signs of trouble that might arise from their tomfoolery. Gods, at least he could bottle up his memories in a Pensieve and use it for blackmail later on… Not everything about his night out was wasted, after all.
And as he watched the band of fools swirling and dancing around the place – barely being able to keep themselves straight as they stumbled over stools, tables and their own feet – he could only imagine the absolute disaster it would be if he didn't make this willing sacrifice.
He shook his head and stared down at his drink, pulling his lips into a grimace when he heard Draco wailing once again in his drunken stupor.
“Blaise – Blaise, mate –”
“Yes, Draco?”
“Do you have any idea how smart she is? Granger, I mean.”
“I think I do.”
“You have no idea!” He insisted with his eyes going wide as he lifted a finger high in the air, imitating a very enthusiastic professor in the middle of a lecture. “She graduated Hogwarts with the highest N.E.W.T.s scores of all time, Blaise! No one – absolutely no one – managed to beat her in our Eighth Year. Not even me! And I’m pretty smart, right?”
“Huh – For the most part, I guess.”
“I am smart!” He sniffled as if offended – but it was hard to tell, given how much he was smiling. “But she’s like… A million times smarter than everyone else – It’s honestly, so hot! I could hear her calling me a dumbarse all day while she lectures me on the proper way to store acromantula venom! She's so sexy when she's being a swot!”
“Yes, she’s very smart.”
“And oh, Salazar, don’t let me start on how bloody gorgeous she is –”
“As if I could stop you,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the place to see if there was any chance anyone else had maybe a sliver of sanity left in them – to no avail.
“She’s so so gorgeous – It’s like she’s the incarnation of Venus, Freyja and Branwen combined! Her curves are like…” he used his wobbly hands to attempt to mimic the shape of a curved hourglass, as if hoping his friend could picture the witch in question with the movement. Unfortunately, this just served to make him realise just how absolutely sloshed he was. “She’s perfection in the shape of a woman.”
Drat – if Draco returned home like he was, his wife was going to murder him on the spot.
Well… She’d probably kill Theo first – rightfully so, as he was the one that insisted they should go out (and wouldn’t take no for an answer, either).
Then, she’d probably kill Greg for literally dragging her husband against his will to the nearest pub they could find.
She’d also kill the girls next, as the ones that started to coax Draco into drinking one shot after another – getting rowdier and rowdier with each drink as they kept on ordering for him non-stop.
Maybe she’d leave Adrien and Marcus alone – but that was just because they were too busy in their own ‘totally straight’ little world to actually care about Theo’s mission of getting Draco as drunk as physically possible. (Or maybe she’d kill them too, just because Blaise knew for a fact that they had been checking her husband out and plotting for a way to get him to join in a threesome with them later on in the night).
And finally, only after everyone else had been killed off, it’d be Blaise’s turn for an untimely demise by the hand of Draco’s wife, as he did nothing to stop this madness when he had the time.
He just hoped that it’d be a quick, painless death. But knowing how frankly vicious she could be, he doubted that it’d be the case.
His eyes travelled around the pub – landing right on the posh antique clock hung up on the pub’s wall, showing him that it was well past midnight by that point, much to his horror.
Yep. He was definitely going to be murdered by her. And it wasn’t going to be quick, either.
“Blaise – Blaise, mate!”
He sighed. What else could a condemned man do anyway? “Yes, Draco?”
“Have I told you how funny Granger is, too?”
Yes, he had – at least five times already that night alone. “No, not yet.”
“Well, she’s hilarious!” He wailed. “She can always make me laugh, even when I’m being a depressed little wanker like always. She just… I feel like the happiest bloke on the planet when I’m near her, you know?”
“That’s nice to hear, mate – you deserve to be happy.”
“And she’s so smart! Did I mention she’s smart?”
“You did.”
“Well, she’s really smart!”
“I know.”
“Did you know she saved the world?” He kept on babbling, grabbing onto his sleeve and shaking it a little as if to emphasise his point. “Like she totally destroyed the Dark Lord that one time and I don't care what they say about Potter – She’s the real hero.”
“I know! I was there, mate,” Theo chimed in once again – getting up from the floor to partially drape himself over his friend as he kept on slurring out in agreement. “‘Mione’s like – Brilliant. What a witch!”
“Shut up, Nott! You don’t deserve her –” he growled with a murderous glare in his stare, but because of his current state, it only came out as a slurred pout fit for an invalid chihuahua. “So don’t even think about her!”
Oh, what a bloody only child – too possessive for his own good.
“Pfff! No one deserves ‘Mione,” Pansy purred, draining the rest of her cocktail while the Greengrass sisters nodded along with her. “She’s too… Pure for us snakes. She belongs at an… Altar or something like that. Bloody perfect witch that she is –”
“Exactly! You get it!” Draco raised his hands in the air and Blaise was pretty sure the man was close to tears now. “I could only dream of having a chance with her.”
Blaise tilted his head to the side with his mouth falling agape at the sheer idiocy of the whole situation.
Never in a million years did he expect to see someone as well-composed and haughty as he was acting like such a lovesick puppy – crying in the middle of the pub and spewing words of adoration about a witch as if she was some sort of deity – but then again, he had never seen him getting this drunk before, so it was certainly a surprising sight.
(Thanks for that, Theo!)
“Draco, mate –” he scoffed. “You’re married to her!”
“To whom?”
“To Hermione! You're literally her bloody husband!”
“What? I am?” His silver eyes seemed to shine brighter at the revelation. Good Merlin, this idiot was completely whipped. “For real? How did that happen?”
“Yep. I don’t know how it happened, either.”
“I think it was all the House Elves' welfare laws that he helped her write,” Astoria hiccuped from her spot, with Daphne soon adding with a giggle. “And the fact that he donated half his fortune to fund that Wolfsbane Act that she created –”
“Or maybe he’s just bloody lucky!” Marcus and Adrien walked back to the pub together, still clinging to one another. “And bloody fit!”
“He’s just lucky he’s pretty,” Pansy barked out, in a clumsy attempt to straighten himself up. “‘Mione talks about his arse like – All the time. It’s insufferable! I wished she was talking about me instead, but alas... She loves this idiot!“
“And let’s not forget the baby thing…” Greg mused out loud with a hilariously and a little off-putting pensive stare. “She’s happy to be a mum now, right? Maybe she married him because of this!”
Ah yes… The baby thing …
Blaise grimaced as he eyed the clock again with the feeling of dread sinking in his stomach with each sharp ticks and tocks of the hands. They were already way past their curfew, and he was sure Hermione Malfoy would use every extra second they spent outside plotting a way to make their deaths as slow as possible.
The ‘baby thing’ was definitely an integral part of their marriage and it also happened to be the very reason the group of friends had been out in the pub celebrating and drinking all night in the first place.
It was supposed to be something quick – just a pint or two in honour of little Scorpius: the newest heir to the Malfoy fortune – Draco’s pride and joy, Blaise’s absolutely adorable godson and the Slytherins alumni’s most recent obsession.
Apparently, this was just something muggle men liked to do shortly after their sprogs were born – a little ‘tradition’ of sorts. They called it ‘wetting the baby’s head’ and it sounded like a fun activity that they could all partake in to congratulate the newest proud father… Despite the fact that Draco himself had been very adamant that he did not want to be part of any of that.
According to him, the idea of going out for drinks with his mates and leaving his wife (still recovering from childbirth, and the one that essentially did all the work) alone with their newborn baby (a fussy little creature that needed constant attention all hours of the day) was abhorrent, to say the least.
And now that he thought about it… Blaise supposed that he really did have a point.
But Theo – the one that had come up with that frankly stupid idea in the first place – was a stubborn little prick. And he was still a Slytherin at heart, which meant that he wasn’t too opposed to doing unsavoury things to get what he wanted.
And after four full months of constant begging, pleading and downright coercion on his part, he finally got what he wanted when he convinced his friends to basically kidnap poor Draco to force him into going to the pub with them – readily making him chug down drink after drink until he was left in that pitiful state to stop him from running away as soon as he could.
Not the best decision they had made in a long time, that much was certain.
However, while everyone else was happy to provide a ‘ wild night’ for the happy new father, Blaise decided that he should probably follow them in their adventure just to be sure no one would get hurt.
Additionally, he made sure to warn Hermione of their stupid plans (all while Pansy and Greg were already snagging Draco out the window) lest she freaked out and called the aurors over his sudden disappearance. At the time, he had reassured her that he’d bring him home safe and sound and at a reasonable hour in the night.
Oh Gods, what a terrible way to break someone’s trust. Could she remove his title of being Scorpius’ godfather because of this?
Well, it’d be probably hard to act as a godfather from the Great Beyond, anyway.
“Granger has a baby?” Draco muttered with a mix of fascination and sheer devastation swimming in his voice. “But… Who’s the dad?”
“Oh, for Salazar’s ballsack!” Blaise suddenly shouted across the pub, banging his head on the counter with a loud thud, wishing he could just strangle the poor sod. “You are! You’re literally her husband! And you’re the father of her child, too – You bloody idiot! She’s been a Malfoy for three years now!”
Suddenly, everyone around him seemed to grow quieter: Greg had stopped with his impromptu karaoke, Theo had stopped his giggling, the girls had stopped their swinging, Adrian and Marcus stopped their groping and Draco had stopped his crying – with his eyes glinting with wonder and looking as if Blaise had just told him the greatest news of his life.
He opened his mouth to say something – probably some more words of praise aimed at his wife – but whatever he was about to say was promptly drowned by a screechy yell right from behind them.
“Erhm – Hello? Excuse me!” Across the room, a gruff-looking burly man was eyeing them with an ugly sneer. By his side, there was the smaller – but equally annoyed – pub owner with his wand pointed at them, ready to kick them out as he continued. “I believe you lot have had enough for tonight. Please pay your bill and get out!”
Blaise pressed his lips in a thin line in distaste. “Of course, sir – Please forgive their behaviour – They don’t know how to hold their liquor –”
“Hey pub owner! Did you know that I’m married to Hermione Gr–” He nudged his friend’s ribs to stop him from talking and annoying the pub owner even further.
He took out a hefty velvet bag from his pocket, packed full of gold – which would cover far more than what they had consumed during the night – and chucked it on the counter. “Thank you for your time – We’ll be going now!”
“And don’t come back!” He huffed, pocketing the galleons without bothering to give him the change.
Biting the inside of his cheek to avoid cursing the living daylights of the man, Blaise turned to his friends and began to make a mental headcount to make sure no one would get left behind. And with that, he gathered everyone’s coats, purses and bodies, carrying them outside the pub to make their way back to their homes.
— — —
Finally, after dropping off almost everyone back to their respective homes in a series of lousy apparitions, Blaise was left only with Draco and Theo hanging onto him to finish off for the night. And that meant that he was soon going to face what was probably going to be the biggest dressing down of his life. Gods, he was not looking forward to that.
"Hermione is going to kill us," Blaise sighed wistfully, struggling to keep himself on his feet as he tried to carry a virtually unconscious and much taller man on his shoulders. “All good things come to an end I suppose – Even my own life.”
He had apparated as close as he could to the Manor, but given how only Malfoys could land inside the wards, he still needed to walk quite a few miles to reach his destiny – having to wrangle two drunk men all the way up the hill where his luxurious home stood.
“Nah, she won't!” Theo giggled, tripping over a loose rock on their path and yelping in pain as he limped dramatically to the side. “She’ll be thrilled that we had such a fun night!”
He couldn’t be more incorrect if he tried.
But at least Theo seemed to have managed to clear his head a little bit since they left the pub – all because Pansy had decided to be a ‘funny prank’ to conjure a bucket of frigid water and throw it on his face as soon as they landed to drop her off on her posh penthouse in London.
“You sound confident,” he rolled his eyes. “But I wouldn't be so sure, Theo.”
“What? She'd never kill her husband’s best mates! Relax!”
He wouldn’t be able to relax even if he tried – especially as he felt Draco shifting his body on top of him until he wriggled out of his grasp, falling down on the path with a dull thud.
“Guys!” He hiccuped on his spot on the floor. "One more pub! Let's go! The night's young and all that shite, isn’t it?"
Yeah, they were pretty much doomed.
Feeling his patience withering away, he took hold of his arms – while Theo grabbed his legs with a bit of an unsteady pace – and they both hauled him upwards to drag him back to the Manor in a slow step.
"She'll definitely kill us," he lamented again, though he did manage to feel a little relieved to see the familiar and imposing gates of his home, tearing them open by using Draco's wand to get acess to the rich gardens of his property. Well, at least things would be over soon. "Or maybe just dismember us. But there's definitely going to be some degree of mauling involved."
"Pfff – Hermione's the sweetest witch ever! Plus, we’re almost there, aren’t we? There’s nothing to worry about!”
And as if he wanted to prove Theo wrong, a couple of the prized Malfoy’s albino peacocks showed up out of nowhere – probably trying to investigate who dared to encroach on their domain – and they hissed at the wizards with a fierce squawk, suddenly pouncing on them like pocket-sized dragons attacking their prey. Bloody Hell! Even the Malfoy birds were pricks!
They didn’t even have a chance to escape the birds as they all fell to the ground in a series of yelps. And while he and Theo managed to break their fall with their hands, Draco wasn’t as lucky – given how he was too bloody drunk to even realise what was happening.
There wasn’t anything they could do but watch as an ugly gash formed on the side of his temple as he hit the hard rocky ground with yet another dull thud ringing in the air – which only worsened as the fierce peacocks pecked away at his owner’s face, right on his wounds.
Ouch – at least he was too out-of-it to actually feel pain, right?
Given Draco’s cries, that clearly wasn’t the case.
Buggering Hell, as if things weren't bad enough already. He pointed his wand at the pesky birds, casting a Protego on his friend’s limp body and scaring them off with a stomp of his feet and shouting at them until they ran off back to their peahens, allowing Blaise to approach him and assess the damages.
He propped Draco’s head upwards, coaxing him to sit on the ground while he scrutinised his injury with a scowl. Too bad he was quite shite at healing spells – he’d probably end up botching his face up even further if he were to try to fix it right now.
At this rate, if he managed to get him back in one piece he'd consider himself the luckiest sod on the planet.
"Theo, do you have any hangover potion with you?"
"Why the fuck would I? When I go out to drink I want to be sloshed – A sobering potion would be counterproductive!"
"Well, you wanker – We need Draco sober right now! So, do you know how to brew some, at least?"
"Of course not!" He shrugged, almost falling over to the ground himself. "Just because I was a Slytherin doesn't mean I was any good with potions!"
Well, he supposed he had a bit of a point – He also happened to be god-awful at Potions back in Hogwarts, always preferring to pair up with a certain bright wizard that was currently kissing the dirty ground as he struggled to get up.
"Damn it... Why did you insist on getting Draco this drunk? He’d be far more useful to us if he was actually conscious! I bet he could still heal himself up and brew the blasted potion if he could at least stand up straight –”
“Nah! He’d just call us idiots and then refuse to help so that we could ‘learn our lesson’ or some shite like that!”
Well, yes. He probably would do just that. But then again, if he wasn’t this drunk, they wouldn’t be facing this problem in the first place.
"Hey, you know who could fix everything?" They heard Draco mumbling as he pointed his finger onwards to the Manor ahead of them – with bright yellow lights bleeding through the windows despite the late hour.
Blaise swallowed a lump in his throat when he spotted a figure standing by the main doorways – a petite woman dressed in a white nightgown with her curly hair sticking out from every direction. In her arms, she was carrying a wriggling and adorable child that played with the loose sleeves of her clothes as if they were the most entertaining toy to ever exist – but he could barely pay attention to the babe as he was too busy staring back at her terrifying glare aimed right at the group.
Oh, yes – They were definitely going to be murdered.
"Granger!" Draco chirped as their eyes met as he waved at her with a goofy smile that only grew wider when they saw her tentatively waving back. And then, bending down clumsily over his ear, he continued in a (not-quite) hushed whisper. “Granger can help us – She’s a smart, pretty witch and she’s like… Incredible.”
“Oh for Salazar’s sake! Just – Shut the fuck up will you?”
“I mean,” Theo hummed with a hand on his chin and a ridiculous look on his face. “Draco’s right, you know? Hermione might as well take care of him… Also – she’s already coming our way –”
He only had less than a millisecond to feel his blood running cold in his veins before he heard a sharp cry piercing the air.
“Zabini!”
She looked quite ethereal like this – with her clothes and wild curls flowing with every step she took and practically sizzling with the magic her core seemed to be generating from within her very soul. Her sun-kissed skin was slightly flushed (probably due to her anger, but it was still quite a sight to see), especially around the freckles of her nose and cheeks, which contrasted beautifully with the striking colour of amber eyes adorned with golden flecks in her irises.
Objectively speaking, he supposed that Draco really did have a good reason to be so besotted with his wife – she was quite gorgeous, as her own husband had put it several times that night, and the power that ran inside her veins was palpable even from a distance.
(Not that he’d ever admit that out loud, obviously… He very much valued his life, and Draco could be three times as ruthless when it came to his protectiveness over Hermione).
Unfortunately, said wife was also scowling at them, with one hand on her hip while the other supported a cute baby boy – with a flash of pale-blond hair and the deepest silver eyes any baby could ever have – that was currently giggling his heart out as he recognised his father just a few feet away.
Almost as if hit by a spell, Blaise watched Draco immediately straightening himself back up in response to his child’s laughter – looking almost like a proper human, if it wasn’t for the slight faltering of his steps – as he approached his wife with the brightest smile playing in his lips as he greeted Scorpius with an energetic wave and blew a cheeky kiss in Hermione’s direction.
He was sure if it wasn’t for the late hour, she would’ve probably laughed at her husband’s drunken reaction. It was, if he could be honest with himself, very amusing to see how much he loved his family – too bad Hermione couldn’t see any sort of humour at the moment.
Instead, she frowned at them and ordered them all to head into their home – with Theo and himself not having to be told twice as they grabbed the other one by the collar and practically hauled him in.
“So – Are you going to explain yourself?” She snapped like a whip, though her voice was lowered to whisper as she didn’t wish to startle her babe. “You told me this was supposed to be quick, Blaise! A pint or two at most!”
He grimaced in response, feeling guilt creeping up to his throat as he noticed the bags under her eyes now that he got to see her up close.
Thankfully, before he could even attempt to think of a proper explanation, Theo was already speaking up – with an unfortunate stuttering that revealed how drunk he was. “Oh ‘Mione! I’m sorry about that, my doll – We got carried away a little bit.”
“A little bit? Look at him! He looks awful!”
To their side, he could see Draco blowing raspberries to make Scorpius laugh and clap to his heart’s delight – and though he was still drunk out of his mind, it was nice to see that he was still a loving father as he whispered under his breath just how much he loved his son.
It was an undeniably cute scene – and it would’ve made the most perfect example of domestic bliss in Blaise’s book… If it wasn’t for the fact that he was still bleeding heavily from the cut on his head, his clothes were all rumpled and stained with dirt and mud, still swaying from side to side as if he was about to fall at any moment, and he smelled pretty much like a fucking distillery.
"Well, yes – I know. It's just that we were celebrating!" He continued, oblivious to the fact that she looked more and more like an angry lioness ready to eat him alive. The peacocks got nothing on her fierceness. "After all, we were honouring Scorp! We couldn't have just one beer!"
Goddamnit Theo! You bloody idiot – you’re making it worse!
"Oh, that's rich of you to say!” She hissed through her teeth. “What a ridiculous thing for you to do anyway – So I get to do all the hard work for nine whole months and then you blokes are the ones to go out?"
"I mean... If you want to, I guess you could join us the next –"
"Theo!" Both she and Blaise shouted at the same time, making him promptly shut up (for once in his bloody life). But as he nudged his friend on the ribs, he continued with a loud cry. "Shut the fuck up, you wanker!"
"Blaise!" Hermione yelled, covering the ears of her impressionable four month-old with her hands and glaring at him. “If my child’s first words end up being a slur, I’ll murder you!”
As if he wasn’t a dead man walking already!
"Granger!" Draco suddenly piped in with a lightness in his voice that made him unrecognisable from the cold man that he usually was. "You won't believe what I just found out!"
"Huh?" She seemed to be caught in surprise. "What is it?"
"We're married!" He exclaimed, ambling closer to give her a tender hug – which was definitely sweet, if one ignored the fact that he almost tripped over his own feet – and to press a sloppy kiss on her temple. But as they predicted that things could get a little tricky, Blaise kindly offered to hold Scorpius while she took care of her bumbling husband.
Surprisingly, Hermione’s annoyed frown melted away into a gentle smile as she hugged him back – and immediately settled him on the posh velvet couch nearby.
“I know that, love,” she laughed after a deep breath, taking out her wand to fix the cut at his temple and his dirty clothes with ease. “We’ve been married for three years now!”
Why did he looked so shocked? He had been told these exact same words not even an hour ago!
“Three years? That’s awesome,” he sighed – tugging his wife’s arm until she fell to his lap, burying his nose in her hair and whispering sweet nothings to her ear. “Gods – I can’t believe I’m so lucky.”
In Blaise’s arms, Scorpius wiggled with a bit of a fuss – only stopping his small cries when his mother reached for him and took him back in her embrace while his father kissed the top of his head, effectively calming him down.
“Look, Granger – this is our son. He’s so perfect,” Draco continued as he fixed a loving gaze on his son, just before he leaned forward on his wife’s lap as he closed his eyes and whispered. “I love you, Granger.”
“I love you too, Draco,” Hermione rolled her eyes, though her lips were flashing the biggest smile Blaise had ever seen. “Even when you’re drunk out of your mind.”
She ran her hand over his tousled hair, combing through the fine strands until her husband finally started to doze off in the safety of his home – being embraced by the two most important people in his life. And from her lap, little Scorpius seemed to follow his father’s steps as he also yawned and fluttered his eyes close, snuggling to his mother’s bosom.
It was a very sweet scene to watch – one that almost (only almost!) made Blaise wish for a wife and a family of his own.
“Ew –” Theo sniggered from where he stood, effectively breaking the tranquil magic that had settled over them. “You guys are disgustingly sweet – Stop it or else I’ll throw up.”
“Shut up Theo,” Hermione whispered with a grin. “And help me put these two to bed!”
Well, it was the least they could do, after everything that happened.
She shifted a little on the sofa, accepting Blaise’s help as she manoeuvred off her seat, taking Scorpius in her arms and heading over to the nursery to put him in his crib while Theo dragged Draco down to his room so that he could have a proper bed to sleep in.
And as both her husband and her son were finally sleeping safely in their own rooms, Hermione turned to his friends – directing them to the many gigantic spare rooms that the Manor had to offer as she continued. “Please, it’s late – And it looks like it’s going to rain soon. I’m sure it’d be better for the two of you to stay for the night.”
Huh, staying the night in one of their delightfully soft king-sized beds sure sounded like a good way to turn this terrible night around.
“Oh, ‘Mione!” Theo laughed in glee, checking out the rich silk sheets that he was going to make full use of as he crashed in their place. “I knew I could count on you! You’re really a doll!”
“Erhm,” Blaise cleared his throat – looking over to the room just to the side of his friend’s with a small smile on his lips. “Thank you, Hermione – It’s really kind of you to do such a thing, after… You know.”
“Oh, no need to worry about that! Make yourselves at home in your rooms,” she purred, with a far more ominous grin plastered on her lips as she continued and with her wand aimed right at them and a look that was downright fit for a horror film’s villain. “And don’t forget that’ll still murder both of you tomorrow morning!”
Sweet Circe, may the Gods have mercy upon his soul!