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Hermione groaned, hiding her face in her hands. She didn’t even like this stupid game and she enjoyed it even less when it was played but young children who can only giggle or cry.
But there were incomprehensible things one does for family and friends. She fought a war with Harry and she would sit quietly with a smile on her face in all the games where James Potter would play.
Her godson was the best thing that had happened to her and she would support him every step of the way. Even when his Little League Quidditch team was annihilated, losing 71-2. (With the snitch worth 25 points.)
She made her way to the middle of the pitch where the coach was giving the young children aged between 5 and 7, a pep talk. "It's not whether you win or lose but how you play the game. And you played so well, little badgers.”
Hermione smelled his cologne even before she could feel his presence or the way he groaned against her ear. “What a pile of -“
She took a step back, trampling his stupid dragonhide shoes with the dirty heel of her boots. “Hush now, Draco, we’re in public. And the children are having fun. That’s what matters.”
He chuckled, and it was like the sound wrapped itself around her body just like his hands would definitely do later when they retired for one of their homes. “I don’t believe that for a minute, Miss Granger. You’re the most competitive person I know. And you know how I was raised.”
Hermione turned her face slightly to watch his face, much closer than she thought he would be, and the smirk on his face was exactly the same he was wearing. Oh, and how it made her weak.
“I don’t like losing and I hate it even more when my godchild is over here learning that it’s okay they lost because they played well. If they had played well, little badgers wouldn’t have lost. They’re terrible, but it’s not their fault! No, it's the silly Hufflepuff coach!” Draco Malfoy never needed to do much to get a reaction out of her.
During the last six months, ever since she had kissed the former Slytherin for the first time, they had been able to keep their distance in the Kuidditch pitch.
“And what would you like to do about it, love?” He asked, the last word was whispered so lightly that Hermione wondered if she could hear just by the way he entoned his questions.
Before Hermione could formulate a good plan, they were interrupted by little feet and little voices. “Aunt Mione!!” James wrapped his arms around her legs.
“It’s not Mione… her name is Hermione,” Lyra Malfoy sounded just like her father during his younger years at Hogwarts. As if they always held the truth and reason.
“Be nice!” A much gentler voice said, “Jamesy calling Miss Hermione Aunt Mione it’s like… it’s like… “ Scorpius looked at Draco for help.
Draco crouched down, stroking the twins' hair, “just like you could call your Aunt Daphne by Daffy if you wanted.”
The young girl scoffed, “Aunt Daffy would hate it and disinherit us. And I don’t want to call Hermione auntie. But speaking of more important things, I’m sorry I couldn’t catch the snitch, daddy.”
“Not your fault, little love, quidditch is all about team effort.” Draco explained with a gentleness that kept warming Hermione’s heart. He had already grown during 8th year, but becoming a father and losing his wife had shaped him in ways that Hermione could not stop falling in love with.
The words blurted from her mouth before she could stop them. “You should teach the kids. Be the new coach. I know you would do an incredible job!”
Draco chuckled as all the children screamed please. “Tell me almighty, Granger! How would I, a former death eater, become the new coach of the young quidditch team where the savior’s son is a member?”
“Like this!” And she took three steps forward before pulling him down until her lips were against his. She could feel the shock rippling through his body until he wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss. She could hear the surprise gasps all around them, but it didn’t matter, not when both she and Draco were grinning like fools.
Fools in love.