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From the sound alone of Hermione's keys jangling at the front door, Draco could tell her day had not gone well. The crash of one foot kicking the door open and a muffled profanity only confirmed it. Draco took a deep breath and moved the protesting cat off his lap to greet his wife.
He met her in the foyer. Her cheeks were brilliant red from the cold, and her scarf and gloves, piled on the table under the mirror, were shining with melting snow. "I swear," she grumbled. "First thing Monday, I'm storming the Floo Network Authority and demanding to know why we haven't been added yet. I'm not taking one more excuse about us living in a Muggle village from that snotty little prick of a regulator. I'm absolutely sick of taking the tube. It is freezing out there. All I was looking forward to the whole walk home from the station was a hot drink and an even hotter bath." With a soft growl, she yanked her fuzzy hat off and tossed it on top of her scarf. "Hi," she said belatedly.
"And hello to you. Bad day, I take it."
"The worst."
"Give those here," he said, nodding at her coat and messenger bag, which he knew held far more than its size, thanks to her adeptness with Shrinking charms. "I'll unpack for you."
Hermione blew a long curl out of her eyes. Her shoulders relaxed from where they'd been hunched up nearly to her ears. "Thanks," she said as she thrust her bag at him. "Now for the tea—no. Hot chocolate. I deserve a treat. I'll get it started."
"You'll do no such thing," he said, taking her coat and putting it on the peg behind the door. "I'll get your drink for you. You get upstairs and into the bath. Use one of those fizzy things."
"Bath bomb. God, that's a fantastic idea." She kicked her pumps off at the base of the stairs and trudged up. Each creak of the treads sounded as if the steps were swearing for her.
Draco emptied Hermione's messenger bag: a battered briefcase, five leather portfolios, one bento box, two travel mugs, a stack of papers held together with an owl-shaped binder clip, and three spiral-bound notebooks. A quick rummage, his arm disappearing into the bag up to his shoulder, netted him the final item, a folding travel umbrella. He put all the office things into Hermione's study, and returned the umbrella to the bag, which joined her coat on the peg.
He carried the mugs and the bento box to the sink in the kitchen, then got Hermione's favorite mug down from the cabinet. He fixed a cup of instant hot chocolate, making a face while she wasn't there to watch him. He hated the quick packets, preferring to go through the process of melting real chocolate, but Hermione actually liked the powdery mix.
Mini marshmallows topped the hot chocolate, as many as he could fit in without overflowing the mug, and he set that on a tray next to a plate of triple chocolate biscuits. He contemplated adding a tiny bud vase, then decided Hermione would immediately check him for Polyjuice if he went that far. Instead he collected the day's post and piled it to one side of the tray.
He went up the stairs and shouldered open the bathroom door to the flickering light of more than a dozen candles. Hermione was stretched out in the tub, a delicate purple foam covering the surface of the water and obscuring her body. She'd piled her hair up and shoved a cat-tipped hairstick through it, and covered her eyes with a faintly-steaming washcloth.
"This is exactly what I needed," she said, lifting one hand from the side of the tub to pull the washcloth off her face. "I feel a hundred times better already."
Draco held the mug out to Hermione. When she grabbed it with a happy purr, he set the tray on the wide ledge behind her head and pulled up an ottoman to perch beside her. "Did you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head and popped a marshmallow onto her tongue. "Not yet. Tell me about your day."
"Oh, I had a grand time," he said. "Did the shop for next week, got that bow-tie pasta you like. Went to the cafe for lunch with Declan and Arjun."
"The stay at home husbands club," Hermione said with a tiny smile.
"That's us."
"Who's in the lead this week?"
"Arjun tried to score points with his new grill but I ever-so-subtly mentioned that our AGA has one of those built in, so of course I won again." He continued telling her about everything he'd done that day, deliberately embellishing just to see her smile. His story about getting his coat caught in the revolving door of one shop made her laugh hard enough that she dropped a marshmallow into the tub.
"Does it ever bother you?" she asked abruptly.
He cocked his head and gently stirred the water next to her hip to fish the marshmallow out. "Does what bother me?"
"Staying home. Not working."
"Not really." At her slightly disbelieving hum, he flicked water on her bent-up legs. "No, I'm serious. Hermione, I'm perfectly happy not working. The truth is, the only thing I'm actually trained to do is be independently wealthy and to bully Ministry officials. Neither of those are exactly career paths for me any longer, not since I got kicked out of the family."
Her eyes dropped.
"What is it?" he asked, laying one hand on her knee.
"Family," she said quietly. "That's ... sort of a large part of the reason I had a terrible day."
"My family?"
"Families in general," she said. "Everyone at the office was talking about their plans with their families. Visiting grans and aunties and cousins, buying gifts for mums and brothers and so on. One person is so looking forward to their uncle's eggnog; another can't wait to help their sister make the plum pudding. Everyone has families to spend the holiday with and...." She spun her mug around in both hands, eyes locked on her fingers. "I suppose I got jealous. For both of us."
"We have loads of friends," he said. "Well, you do, and they don't mind me tagging along."
"It's not the same. My parents are still in Australia, and their memories are still ... wrong. And your parents? When was the last time you spoke to either of them?"
"About ten seconds before I switched sides at the last battle," he said with a shrug of one shoulder. "But if that's really bothering you, I have news."
Stretching, he grabbed the stack of post off the tray and shuffled through them until he found a small cream envelope, one stamp precisely placed and the address written so elegantly it looked printed on. He held it so Hermione could see the Malfoy crest embossed on the already-opened flap.
Her jaw dropped. She set the mug behind her head and made a 'gimme' gesture, then stared at her pruny fingers in dismay. "Wet hands. What's it say?"
Draco chuckled. "It's from Mum, and yes, it's addressed to both of us. It's not warm, not in the slightest, but it's definitely ... conciliatory? Greetings of the season, hope you've been well, and all of that."
"What on earth?"
"Reading between the lines, Mum has finally managed to convince Dad that they need to extend the olive branch. Otherwise, there will never be little Malfoys running around the Manor ever again, and that simply will not stand."
Hermione stared at him. "Your mother wants grandkids."
"Desperately. And as I'm her only child, and I've married you and spent the last five years living a damn near Muggle existence, if she wants said grandchildren, she has to either come here to kiss and make up—"
"When hell freezes over," Hermione said with a rude noise.
"Precisely. Since that will never happen, I have to be welcomed back into the family. Which means you have to be welcome as well." He wiggled the envelope. "We've been invited to tea."
"Tea. At Malfoy Manor. With your mum?"
"And Dad. Tomorrow."
Hermione sank deeper into the tub. "Tomorrow," she echoed. She stared at her knees, then shuffled her feet up the tub and wiggled her toes above the water.
Draco nibbled a biscuit and let her think.
After a minute, she tipped her head to look at him, her lips slowly curling into a wide grin. "I should bring something to share, shouldn't I? What do you think? PG Tips or Tetley?"
Snorting, Draco leaned over the side of the tub and kissed her cheek. "Your choice, sweetheart. And I'll make sure to rave about it, whatever you pick. Thinking about getting some jammie dodgers myself. Raspberry. Dad's favorite. He might actually have a stroke from trying to behave himself." He made a fake pondering face. "Well, we should probably make sure they've restored me to the family before he does that. Don't want to risk the inheritance, after all."
Hermione laughed. "Excellent plan. We'll stop at Tesco on the way. Now, why don't you join me in this tub before the water gets cold?" She sat up fully, lifting her breasts above the water, swiped a water droplet off her skin, and licked her finger.
Draco shot to his feet and yanked his shirt over his head.