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"Are you gonna be done anytime soon?" His voice comes from the joint bedroom. Hermione washes her hands and dries them on her baggy T-shirt.
"Yeah" she shouts back "I'm just gonna brush my teeth."
She makes it a point to brush her teeth every night, even though there are simpler solutions, magical solutions. But somehow, brushing her teeth gives her some sort of satisfaction.
"That'll be a while then. Can you bring some hand cream when you’re done?" She can hear him perfectly in spite of the running faucet. She scowls and spits.
"You always want ME to bring the hand cream! When do I get YOU to bring ME some?" She waits for him to respond.
"When you get to bed first" He says, trying to hide a laugh. "But of course, that hasn't happened in nearly two years of marriage, Granger".
She huffs, shoves the toothbrush in her mouth, and makes precise, energetic movements. She will get to bed earlier tomorrow. She will. And then he will massage her hands.
Hermione turns off the lights and puts some hand cream on her left hand.
She walks into the room and eyes him with a smirk. He's laying on their bed with a thousand pillows to accommodate him, like the spoiled brat that he is. His pale chest is barely covered by HER favorite blanket. He's annoying, and smug but so breathtakingly beautiful. She crawls on the bed until she's next to him and takes her blanket, covering her back with it.
He laughs and, without a word, extends his hands to her, laying them on her thighs.
Like she does every night, she massages her hands softly, runs her fingers through his large palms in circular motions, she tugs every finger from the knuckle all the way to his fingernails, and pushes hard on the center of his palm. He closes his eyes and faces the ceiling, breathing in deep, like he is in some spa.
When she finishes, she lets his hands rest on his broad bare chest. She strokes his sternum, and then his left cheek. He opens his eyes to the contact and looks at her.
He’s almost asleep. His eyelids look heavy and his smugness is gone.
"Ready?" she says.
He nods, and pushes himself to a sitting position, he then lays on his belly and lets out a long sigh.
She smirks and runs his hand along his back. She tugs gently at his hair on the nape of his neck, scratches his head with her long nails, and strokes his back in slow motion. His skin is soft and warm, and her heart summersaults when he makes little sounds of pleasure.
Hermione gets lost in the words of Shakespeare as she massages his back until his breathing is deep and slow. She smiles and turns off the light.
***
"No, Draco." She whispers half mad half amused. "I got to bed first."
Draco eyes her from the bathroom doorframe, he holds her toothbrush between his perfect white teeth. HER toothbrush. What is whit this man and her stuff?
"Oh well, I thought you could teach me to brush my teeth". He smirks.
"But why do you have to bloody pick today?" Her voice goes up an octave at the ending of her sentence. "I'm in bed first. Bring me hand cream!"
"Granger you can't blame me for my sudden curiosity. You said the child is the teacher right? You have to follow the child's curiosity in order to find a teaching opportunity. Think I haven't been paying attention to your Monserrat Lady?"
"Except you're not a child. And her name is Montessori!"
"Oh well, I guess I'll just cast a cleansing charm. They rather hurt sometimes." He takes her toothbrush out of his mouth and closes the bathroom behind him.
She bites her lower lip and groans as she jumps out of bed. She has wanted to teach him since forever.
She massages his hands with hand cream and promises to herself not to be conned by this spoiled Slytherin tomorrow.
****
She lays on the bed with the hand cream nearby as he comes out of the bathroom. She will get her hand massage. She bloody will.
She's laying on her back and as he comes out of the bathroom drying his pointy face with HER towel. My gosh.
They make eye contact, she crosses her arms and gives the hand cream a meaningful look.
Without a word, he drops her towel and walks toward her. He starts pumping hand cream on his hands.
He shifts her so she's laying with her face on the pillow. And he massages EVERYTHING. Except for her hands. That bastard.
****
After she feels he's asleep, she stops massaging her hands and sighs. Four days in a row. He's managed to have her massage his hands four days in a row.
Well, actually he's been doing that for two years of marriage, but she's tried to get HER hands massaged for FOUR bloody days. And did she? No.
But she's Hermione Granger, and she doesn't give up easily.
He looks at Draco, his beautiful husband Draco. and sighs again, in resignation. But just for today.
He stirs as she shifts on her side of the bed to find a good position to sleep. Draco is half awake and pulls Hermione to him, so her back is to his chest. His hand is tight around her and their legs are tangled. She turns her head and inhales. He smells like sandalwood, hand cream, and something sweet and warm.
It's delicious.
"I love you." He whispers in her ear.