Little Hearth Fires

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/23725228.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy
Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Kitchen Sex, Established Relationship,
Draco Malfoy Feels, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy,
Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Baby Scorpius Malfoy, Loving Marriage,
Sexual Content, No Angst, No Plot, Inspired by Art
Language: English
Collections: Bitch Wellington: Kumatan's Smuff Squad, The Draimone Collection,
one shots, TDH Harry Potter EU, draco + hermione <3, Dramione_all,
Fav Oneshots, How Did It Take Me So Long to Read Dramione Fics and
Now I'm Utterly Sold Out to Them
Stats: Published: 2020-04-18 Words: 2,245 Chapters: 1/1
 Little Hearth Fires
by senlinyu

Summary

“This is all your fault, you know. The entire reason I’m a counselor-at-law is because of you,
and now you aren’t even at the DMLE and I have to deal with Potter all the time.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, eyes widening. “I didn’t ask you to work for the Wizengamot.
You’re the one who couldn’t just ask me out like a normal person and decided to get a job
liaising with my office instead.”

His cheeks flushed but then the corner of his mouth twitched with a suppressed smile. “It was
an intentional strategy, I’ll have you know. I needed to impress you with my legal prowess to
ensure you’d be susceptible to my many charms.”

Notes

A little gift-fic for Kumatan0720 inspired by her heart-meltingly beautiful domestic

dramione.

Art inspiration here.

See the end of the work for more notes

The steady click of the clock was the only audible sound in the quiet house.

Scorpius’ baby snores were softly vibrating against Hermione’s shoulder as she sat curled up
in bed with a book. She flipped a page and glanced up to check the time again.

Her heart sank a little. It was nearly eleven pm.

Draco had been called in to work early that morning; hours earlier than usual. There hadn’t
even been the faintest rays of light visible outside when he got up and tried to slip out without
disturbing Hermione.

When she tried to get up to see him off, he grumpily muttered things about not needing to be
mothered as he fussed over her, tucking her back under the covers, smoothing her hair, and
asking if she was sure that she didn’t need another house-elf. She’d snorted into her pillow
and assured him that one was already more than enough.

He went downstairs, and she heard the muffled pop of apparition seconds later. Much too
quickly for him to have eaten anything.

He made a firecall at lunch, looking tired, distracted, and then apologetic when Scorpius
began trying to reach for him through the fireplace, fretting when Draco shook his head and
said he didn’t have time to come home for lunch.

Hermione had hoped the early start meant he’d be home for dinner, but the hour came and
went. Hermione had poked at cold cuts and then took sleep-resistant Scorpius up to bed with
her.

Tippet appeared every hour or so to inquire if Hermione would like to have dinner started or
Scorpius put to bed, but Hermione kept putting it off, determined to wait.

The clock in the hallway downstairs struck. Scorpius tensed and snorted loudly in his sleep,
burrowing his face against her shoulder. Hermione paused to rest her cheek on the top of his
head and dropped a kiss on his silken, pale blond hair. After a minute he relaxed, squirming
himself into a more secure spot against Hermione’s chest, head over her heart.

She lifted her book back up and resumed reading.

There was a soft pop that made Hermione immediately look up. She heard the front door
quietly open.

“Draco?” She called out in a low, measured voice that was just loud enough to carry without
disturbing Scorpius.

The sound of footsteps in the entryway downstairs stopped and then began ascending the
stairs.

Draco appeared in the doorway but hovered, eyeing Scorpius.

Hermione smiled and held out her hand. “Hey...”

He came across the room and entwined their fingers, but rather than sit on the edge of the
mattress, he sank down onto the floor beside the bed.

“Sorry I got home this late. There were issues with the cases’ archives. So, I had to stay.” His
expression was stressed and visibly strained with exhaustion.

Hermione reached out and touched his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed and he dipped his
head down, leaning into her touch.

She ran her thumb across the arch of his cheekbone. “Draco, it’s okay.”

He looked up and leaned towards her, studying her face. “Have you eaten?”

Hermione laughed under her breath and raised an eyebrow. “I should be the one who’s
asking.”

He stared blankly at her, and she could see him wracking his mind trying to recall when he’d
last eaten. After a minute he groaned and slumped forward, resting his head on her chest
alongside Scorpius, who squirmed without waking and emitted disgruntled snort of objection
to having his territory encroached upon.

Carefully, to avoid toppling Scorpius from his huddled perch, Hermione wrapped her arms
around Draco’s shoulders, her fingers running along the base of his neck. He sighed and
seemed to melt against her.

“Work’s been rough, Granger.”

Hermione’s mouth twitched. He only ever reverted to her maiden name when he was flirting,
or drunk. Given that he was already nearly half-asleep on top of her, she suspected that it was
a novel variation of the latter.

There was a pause and she thought for a moment that he’d fallen asleep.

Then he twitched and seemed to rouse himself. “Eating is the last thing on my mind.”

Hermione nuzzled the top of his head and ran her fingertips across his shoulders. “I’ll cook
your favourite, Beef Wellington and a side of wine.”

He gave a small nod. “I’d like that.”

“Tippet,” she called.

The house-elf instantly appeared, tea-cozy perfectly starched and her enormous eyes eagerly
fixed upon ‘her baby.’

“Is everything still ready in the kitchen?”

The elf nodded forcefully, arms outstretched. “Yes. Tippet is having everything ready.”
Hermione cuddled Scorpius a moment longer, dropping a final kiss on the top of his head.

“Can you take Scorpius to the nursery then?”

Draco straightened and shifted back as Tippet bustled forward and Hermione transferred their
rotund infant into the elf’s arms.

Tippet cradled Scorpius closely against her chest as he flailed and grimaced in his sleep. Then
she trotted away, crooning unintelligible sweet nothings as she bounced and swayed out the
door and into the nursery across the hallway.

Draco gazed after his departing son and family elf.

“You know,” he said after a minute with an aggrieved air, “there was a time when I was her
favourite. Now... I’m lucky to merit a greeting.”

Hermione sat forward with a grin. “How about I greet you instead?”

Now that she had both arms free, she could lean forward and slide them around his shoulders
as she kissed him. Slow and sweet as their lips met. He sighed as he returned it. Then she
drew back just enough to rub her nose against his pointier one.

“Hello, Love, I missed you today, ” she whispered against his lips.

He shivered, tensed, and then groaned. ”Don’t do this to me, I'm too tired.”

”Dinner first, then you can sleep.”

Her shoulders were stiff from sitting with Scorpius, and she stretched her back with a little
groan. Draco’s eyebrows furrowed again.

“You don’t need to cook for me, I’ll get something from the stasis bin and we can go to bed.”

Hermione shook her head. “No. I have it all ready, I was just waiting for you to come home
so I could start baking. I’ll just pop it in the oven and you can tell me how the case is going.
Is it still on track for opening arguments next month?”

Draco nodded and began catching Hermione up on all current ins and outs of the case he was
preparing to present to the Wizengamot as they went downstairs to the kitchen. Hermione
poured him a glass of wine and he sat on the kitchen table, musing over legal technicalities,
and absent-mindedly unbuttoning his collar and cuffs.

The Beef Wellington was already made and waiting in the stasis bin to be baked. Tippet had
kept the oven on. Hermione had it in the oven and the wine sauce slowly warming on the
stove in a matter of minutes.

She poured herself a glass of wine and joined Draco on the kitchen table, watching him
carefully.
He was speaking half-aloud and half to himself and finally grumbled something about
archaic case file organization. Hermione laughed under her breath.

He looked up, his expression sulky. “This is all your fault, you know. The entire reason I’m a
counselor-at-law is because of you, and now you aren’t even at the DMLE and I have to deal
with Potter all the time.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, eyes widening. “I didn’t ask you to work for the Wizengamot.
You’re the one who couldn’t just ask me out like a normal person and decided to get a job
liaising with my office instead.”

His cheeks flushed but then the corner of his mouth twitched with a suppressed smile. “It was
an intentional strategy, I’ll have you know. I needed to impress you with my legal prowess to
ensure you’d be susceptible to my many charms.”

Hermione gave a concessionary hum and slipped his wine glass out of his hand, setting it
aside near her wand. Then her fingers ran along the inside of his forearm as she leaned
closer.

“Yes. You were—“

She nuzzled just below his ear, breathing in the sharp scent of his cologne.

“—very—“

She dragged her tongue up his neck.

“—charming.”

She nipped at his jaw.

Draco moaned and slumped.

Hermione took the opportunity to push him onto his back across the table before she
proceeded to climb on top of him and began unbuttoning his shirt.

He sighed and his eyes fluttered closed but then he tensed suddenly.

“Is there—time?”

“Mhmm...” Hermione was nibbling down the planes of his chest.

“You sure?” His voice was half-dazed but still persistent. ”The oven’s not going to catch
fire?”

Hermione froze. Then her head shot up, and her eyes narrowed. “That was once, you pillock,
and you swore we’d never speak of it.”

Draco looked up at her and swallowed guiltily, his throat visibly dipping. “It was only—a
polite inquiry.”
She sat up, still straddling him. ”May I remind you that it was your idea to christen the
kitchen table while the game pie was in the oven. I told you I'd never made one and wasn’t
sure how long it took to bake.”

”It was.” Draco’s tone was demure. His fingers, however, were slowly making their way
along the inside of her thigh.

Hermione tried to remain severe. “I said—“ he found the apex of her legs and her voice
wavered, “—I thought I smelled smoke...”

“You did,” he said.

There was a gentle stroke and heat pooled in her lower abdomen.

“You didn’t let me check—” She inhaled unsteadily.

His fingers slid further, caressing and teasing her while his other hand wrapped around her
hip, grinding her pelvis down against his. She could feel him hard beneath her. His shirt was
unbuttoned and his eyes were dark and lecherous.

He sat up enough to pull her jumper up over her head and then dropped back, staring up at
her with black eyes.

“All true,” he said after a pause, as though he’d briefly forgotten the conversation.

“Yes, and now I always take precautions,” Hermione said, grinding against him punishingly
so that his hips bucked up against her as she unfastened his belt and opened his trousers.

“Now,” her voice dropped. “I’m on my last month of maternity leave, so you better enjoy
these final moments of having a horny housewife, because when I get back to work, my
office is going to be the one keeping you at work until ungodly hours.”

“Will you now?” His eyes were dark and glittering as he shifted her up and his fingers
hooked around her knickers, pulling them aside.

She sank down slowly, biting her lip but still giving a breathy moan as he filled her.
“Mhmm.”

She steadied herself, gripping his shoulders and rolled her hips forward. He met the motion
and her eyes fluttered closed as he drove in just right. She groaned and shifted again.

“Due to our caseload,” she said, her back arching as he slid his fingers possessively along her
side and cupped her breast.

“Obviously.” His voice was sinfully thick.

His fingers ran along the underside of her breasts, and his thumb brushed against the tip of
her nipple.
She clenched, her whole body tensing, and her hips bucked sharply as she tried to keep her
balance and keep moving.

Draco pulled her down against his chest, his arms wrapping around her shoulders, crushing
them together. He was peppering kisses along her jaw, teeth scraping against the bone
accompanied by a soft burn of stubble. His skin against hers was warm, and his hand ran
down her body over every curve before sliding in between them and touching her. She
keened and gripped his shoulders as heat flooded through her nerves like fire.

Her eyes closed and she just felt him with her. Just the two of them. As the fire swelled and
grew into an inferno that spread through her and shattered.

”Draco—“ she moaned his name against his neck, shuddering, and running her fingernails
through his hair. He kept kissing her, gripping her closer as she shook against him.

“Fuck—“ He gripped her harder and she felt him jerk. “Fuck. Fuck...”

They both lay together panting on top of the kitchen table for a minute before there was a soft
humming melody and Hermione’s wand vibrated on the table where she’d laid it.

Hermione picked it up and tapped the tip twice before casting a spell to transfer to Beef
Wellington from the oven onto the worktop to cool.

She turned back to Draco and began pressing light kisses across his face, staring down at
him. His eyes were closed and his hair rumpled, and his expression was relaxed.

She traced circles and patterns across his bare chest with her fingertip.

“I love you,” she dropped a kiss on his lips. “I love you. I love you.”

His eyes slid open, parting just enough to reveal a sliver of grey beneath his lashes. “I should
hope so, you did marry me.”

“Yes.”

“And you are the mother of my child.”

“Guilty as charged.”

He opened his eyes and stared up at her. “And I love you and I always will.”

A smile curled at the corners of Hermione’s mouth and her eyes crinkled as she looked down
at him.

“Yes. There is that too.”

End Notes

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