Hermione sneaks around the corner, camera in hand and a mischievous smile on her lips. Today was Dracoâs birthday and sheâll be damned if she doesnât capture it.
With a knowing smirk he chuckles, âI know youâre there, âMione,â and without taking his eyes off the Daily Prophet he throws a wad of paper towards her, barely missing her.
With a loud sigh she stumbles into the den, hand on her rounded belly, âHoney, weâll need pictures to show our babies when theyâre older,â she muses, batting her eyelashes. âTheyâll want to know what their daddy looked like in his prime,â she says teasingly and lifts a hand to stroke his cheek.
Draco lets the newspaper drop and he raises out of his seat, pulling Hermione into his arms with a proud smile, âYou really know how to play me donât you?â
âWouldnât be a true wife if I didnt! Now stand there and Honey, I need you to smile!â Hermione squeals, pointing the camera at a grimacing Draco.
âDarling, Malfoyâs donât smile.â
âYou do for me?â She questions, dropping the camera slightly.
âYes, I guess youâre right. Hurry and take a couple,â he orders with pursed lips.
He didnât have to fake the smile as he sees Hermione fumble with the camera. The way her lips parted as she focused, his t-shirt barely covering her very pregnant belly and the happiness obvious in her eyes was all he needed to offer her a genuine smile, even if it was for just one picture.