Bride of the HP Dragon

It was still a little before dawn, and it was still almost dark, but marbled swirls of red and orange peeked through the clouds, and the window panes were smothered in frost.

Hermione's bedroom is very warm, not the dry heat brought by the temperature control spell, but a kind of heat that slowly flows through your body, penetrates into the bone marrow and reaches the end of your body after you thought you were destined to be frozen forever. The warmth is as pleasant as a winter morning.

"Meow."

Crookshanks was a ball of orange fur at the foot of the bed, and he'd been clingy ever since Hermione let him out of his hiding place under the living room floor.Hermione had added a hot water bottle to the mountain of rabbit blankets in his carrycot, but he kept trying to get back into bed.

If Draco had to guess, he'd say the cat was possessive.

"Your mistress will be yours after breakfast." Draco said softly.

Crookshanks seemed satisfied, and dropped his stocky head and went back to sleep.

Draco looked back at Hermione, which he had been doing for the past hour in fact.She slept just as he remembered her: deep, sprawled, and focused.Some people frowned and twitched in their sleep. She was calm.Hermione was like a child, she would occasionally let out a slight sigh, and the corners of her lovely mouth would curve slightly.

If she was a dream, it was a sweet dream.

She was lying on her upper body, her face resting on her bare chest, gently rising and falling with his every breath.The quilt they shared covered her lower body, barely covering her tailbone.Draco looked down, past her head and relaxed shoulders, down to her slender back and the gentle curve of her hips.

From Draco's point of view, it was a beautiful sight.

Hermione squirmed and turned her head to the left, as the sleep revealed the hair on the right.

Draco touched a large curl of her short, fluffy hair, and he moved carefully, lest his supposed good luck might cause her to leave if he was not careful.Like a bursting bubble, or worse, maybe he'd wake up alone and find himself bleak in Malfoy Manor.

There was real light coming in from the window, making him feel the warmth of the sun on his face.It's a whole new day, and thank goodness it's a real day, not a dream.

When he looked back at Hermione, her brown eyes were open, and she didn't look fully awake, she was actually gasping for sleep.Draco didn't know why, but he caught his breath suddenly, tensing himself to keep her from changing her mind.

"Your feet are so cold," Hermione murmured, rubbed her nose, and fell asleep again.

Draco sighed in relief, stroking her hair again.

There was a knock on the door, and Hermione pushed herself up on her elbows, twisting, while Draco sat at the end of the bed, almost fully dressed and putting on his boots.

His clothes still looked a bit damp, and Hermione remembered hanging them to dry by the fireplace before they went to bed.

"Stay there," he said simply, and it took Hermione a moment to shake off her drowsiness, a sting from a soft, loving good morning greeting.

She sat up and covered the sheet to her chest: "What time is it?"

The knock on the door rang again, and he stood up buttoning his flight jacket: "A quarter past six, do you have any guests this morning?"

Hermione frowned, thinking she'd prefer Draco naked.She knew what he would look like when he was undressed, and when he was fully dressed, he looked distant and businesslike: "No, but this can't be someone who shouldn't be here, this person didn't trigger the alarm."

Draco raised his eyebrows: "Is that the silent alarm that reminded you when I entered your yard?"

"Yeah, it's all in my head," she replied with a little smugness, knowing Draco was impressed by the spell.

"You'll have to tell me how the spell works later," he said, and strode toward the door.

"Wait, Malfoy, you come back."

Hermione thought it was amused, and crawled to the edge of the bed, tugged on his shirtfront, and kissed him hard.

"Good morning, Draco." Hermione coaxed, his lips parting, making Hermione feel the kiss should be deepened in order to reward his obedience, but as usual things quickly got out of hand.

With the sheets down, he looked at her face with a sad expression, and Hermione wondered if the day's troubles had brought a lot of trouble to dampen his enthusiasm.

But no, obviously not.

He pulled her into his arms, kissed her neck, and concentrated on her chest.Hermione always thought her breasts were nice but not full, but if Draco was missing something, you wouldn't be able to tell.He held Hermione's breasts in his warm hands and kneaded, licked and sucked at the hard and sensitive tip, and then gently sucked the lower edge of her breasts.

It was thrilling to watch his blond head move over his chest in daylight.

He's incredibly gentle, in stark contrast to the dominance and intrusion of the night before.It didn't matter how he showed his love, Hermione would love it, she felt like a utterly fragile treasure.

They were both back on the bed now, and Draco was planting soft, wet kisses on the inner thighs of hers, eager all over Hermione.She was sore and sensitive from last night's enthusiasm, and if he wanted to continue what Hermione guessed, Hermione didn't think she could bear it.

The knocking was now a hammering.

Hermione grabbed Draco's shoulder and gently pushed him away, and he stopped, responding to her cue.They glanced at each other, and then Hermione felt warm breath between his legs, and then his hotter tongue parted the smooth, swollen flaps and began to flick and jab.

Hermione gasped and dragged a pillow over her face to muffle her voice.Last night, it all went up and down with emotion, and this morning, it's pure and true... ah...

Hermione arrived.

The door slammed again.

Light exploded behind Hermione's closed eyes, and in the aftermath she realized Draco picked her up and put her on his lap while she was still trembling involuntarily.He stroked her back long and comfortingly with his warm fingers, and the excitement beneath him was as hard as steel.

"I'm going to answer the door now." Draco said softly.

How could his voice sound so normal afterward?

Hermione didn't think she could bear Draco letting go, but she did her best.

"Put on your clothes and come out when you're ready." He kissed her forehead.

Then Draco left, closing the bedroom door softly behind him.Hermione couldn't help thinking that it was a good thing wizards lived that long, that she needed those extra years just to get used to living with Draco.

She threw herself on the bed out of extreme happiness and relaxation, pulling all the sheets over her head.Then she felt something push her, and Hermione poked her head out from under the covers and found herself looking into the familiar, predictable amber eyes.

"My God, Crookshanks, I remember I was in the basket better than you?"

The old cat gave her a "he's gone?" look, and then made a dissatisfied sound of "gurgling" in his throat.

"Mr. Cat, why don't you sleep on the sofa tonight." Hermione criticized it, and then hugged Crookshanks to resolve the crisis.

When the door of Hermione's house opened, Ron was flushing from the force.He realizes he's standing there, scowling and pumping his fists, looking like an idiot, but soon he's struck by something else.

Draco Malfoy, all in black flying robes, was eyeing him with a slightly exasperated expression.

"What are you doing?"

"What are you doing here?" Ron demanded, regretting that his voice had been raised half an octave: "And what happened in the yard?"

"I'm not the one to hammer on the door at the wrong time on a Sunday morning," Draco reminded him calmly.

Ron tried to get over Draco's shoulder, but Draco purposely filled the door frame with himself.

"Where's Hermione? I need to see her. Actually, it's good that you're here, I have something to tell you both." Ron stepped forward.

Draco patted the door frame with open palms, stopping Ron in his tracks: "She's getting dressed, and then we're going to sit down and have a nice and civilized breakfast. You and I already had a bad time, so Wes Lai, don't ruin this time." Draco's warning was not gentle at all.

Ron felt insulted: "We are not students anymore, you will be surprised that I am also polite."

Draco smiled slightly: "Yeah, I'm surprised."

Ron lowered his face: "Can I go in now?"

Draco moved away.

Hermione was tying the sash of her white robe when she walked into the living room, and she first noticed Ron by the door, and then both he and Draco seemed to be giving each other a brain aneurysm with contemptuous glances.

"Is the simple 'good morning' out of fashion or is there some other reason?" Hermione complained angrily.

Her brown eyes turned to Ron. "What's the matter Ron? Is everything okay?"

Hermione looked decent, but not very proper.She looked breezy, with disheveled hair and red, swollen lips.But Ron felt he had restrained himself rather remarkably, and told them the ambiguous news.

"Snape escaped last night."

"What!" Hermione's eyes widened.

Draco was more curious than shocked: "How?"

"They figured he had a helper," said Ron. "He didn't break any locks or guards, anyway, he seemed to walk out of Azkaban with no witnesses. Well, except for Ginny. "

"Ginny!" cried Hermione, "Where is she?"

"Uh, yes." It was obvious that this part of the story made Ron uncomfortable: "She arranged a meeting in a private interrogation room this evening, and he managed to knock her out and run away."

This time Draco was shocked: "Snape did it to Ginny Weasley?"

"She's fine." Ron quickly reassured Hermione, who was suddenly pale.

"He hit Ginny on the back of the head, and she fell flat without a lump on her head worth mentioning. Even trying to tell Harry about it..."

"Where is Ginny now?" Hermione interrupted him.

Ron rubbed the back of his head, "She's at the Burrow with Harry. I don't know who's more worried, Harry or Mum. We've sent someone to track down Snape, the only problem he doesn't seem to have left behind." What an opening." He turned to Draco: "How about a meeting with my father? He said you owled him last week and wanted to speak to him about Snape's sentencing."

"Yes." Draco confirmed, sitting with his arms folded on the arm of Hermione's embroidered sofa, looking a little more cheerful: "But it certainly seems to have rectified now."

Ron grunted, "Yeah, about that... a bit of a coincidence, isn't it?"

Draco gave Ron a sarcastic look: "Not necessarily, the so-called coincidence is that your father will tell me that he will not assist Snape's retrial, and then Snape escapes easily, and then you found me in Malfoy Manor this morning , and without Hermione alibi for me."

Ron looked at Hermione expectantly.

"For heaven's sake, Ron! Yes, he's been with me all night! Eight o'clock at night till now!"

"That doesn't necessarily mean he has nothing to do with it," Ron pointed out.

"Ronald..."

Draco stood up. "You're right, that's not necessarily the case. And I'll let you know that if there's no hope of a retrial, then I'm definitely going to do it."

"Malfoy, you're not helping."

Ron shrugged. "At least we're honest," he said, looking hopefully in the direction of the kitchen. "While I'm here, can I have a cup of tea? It's freezing outside."

Hermione snorted angrily, turned and walked towards the kitchen.

Ron stared at Draco for a while: "Regarding Snape's escape, I know everyone involved is considering it, but no one in the game can make a conclusion. Well, Dumbledore may be eligible... "

"Your 'consideration' means that his escape means real justice?"

"Certainly more just than a life sentence," Ron replied. "Not in my papa's sense of justice, and certainly not the Wizengamot. But what I say won't slow the search down, and we'll follow the rules. If we find him , he will have to come back to jail.”

"Of course." The condescension in Draco's tone upset Ron.

There was a long silence just for Hermione's delicate bustle in the kitchen, the sound of a metal utensil falling on the floor, and then Hermione's soft whining.

"So," began Ron, "I... um... guess you and Hermione are back together?"

The old Draco would have told him to fuck off and mind his own business, but the current Draco didn't seem to mind answering.

"It means reconciliation." Malfoy judged Ron with mysterious eyes, making Ron restless.

Ron nodded: "I guess you're not the type to hold hands and give roses on Valentine's Day. As for myself, I don't see any reason why I should be entangled with girls now..."

Draco sneered: "Unfortunately, the truth is unreasonable."

"True." Ron agreed, feeling a little depressed and trying to get rid of it.

The day he admits he likes Draco Malfoy is the day he asks Tribute out to dinner.He tried to be polite to Malfoy, but he told himself it was because he respected Hermione's choice.

"In the silver frame behind you is my little niece, my brother Bill's little daughter, and it's her birthday today."

The change of subject and mood didn't seem to bother Draco, who saw behind him the mantelpiece and the picture Ron had mentioned, the child was beautiful, in a dress that seemed to be made out of a tablecloth.Assuming she comes from a family with few female members and distant members, this situation can be forgiven.Her long hair was pulled into neat little braids and tied with an oversized white ribbon at the end.

She smiled at him, showing her missing front teeth.The child's hands are behind his back, slightly twisting left and right, this is the appearance of a child hiding a secret and needing to be coaxed.The background of the photograph is the Burrow, a sprawling and cluttered pride.

Draco noticed that the child's hair was the color of a summer wheat field, with a hint of ginger.

"I guess she looks like her mother?" Draco asked.

Ron grinned: "Just looks, she's a thick-skinned little thing. Sometimes I can't believe so much has happened in such a short time, I mean some of us have kids now, I feel like Old, you know what I mean?"

"I think I understand," Draco said quietly.

"I know you and Harry have been talking a lot lately, and I know we don't get along. But now that you're a part of Hermione's life, I just wanted to let you know that you have my approval." Ron said with a A nod for emphasis ended the little speech.

The bastard was of course happy: "Thanks to Merlin, Weasley, I can sleep peacefully at night."

"But you're still an asshole." Ron felt compelled to remind him.

An oven mitt fell on the back of Ron's head, and Hermione entered the living room, looking at Ron with eyes that were a few degrees cooler than the freezing weather outside.

But her tone was warmer: "Breakfast is ready, I have to tell you in advance that I burnt the toast, the eggs may be a little old, and the water for tea has boiled."

"I'll make tea," Draco proposed, looking at Ron in order to deflect future disasters. "You want to stay for breakfast?"

Ron took off Hermione's oven mitts and smiled, "I never turn down a free meal."

Harry was in a bad mood, but it didn't help the violent argument he had with Ginny just now, and Ginny slammed the door in his face.

It was inevitable, because he regretted what he had said to Ginny.

Why would Snape break out on a damn Saturday night?He ruined everyone's weekend, with mixed reactions to the escape.

Those who knew the details of Snape's case responded with a kind of resignation, if ill-timed, that ultimate justice would come.Malfoy himself asked Arthur Weasley to have the case reopened because he could testify about events from five years ago, but Arthur apparently refused him.

On the other hand, those who only knew that Snape was a former Death Eater put up wanted posters all over London.

The matter of Snape's escape had not yet been dealt with, and it would not be very wise to ask Ginny at this time.She can lie very well when the situation calls for it, but she has never lied very well to Harry,

That's why Harry was so annoyed, she trusted Harry with her life, but obviously not about Snape.After Bellatrix's escape, Arthur was furious about the only escape from Azkaban since.

Ron was highly suspicious of everyone around him, and then an old woman stopped outside his office...

"Can I help you?" Harry asked briskly, opening the door for her.

She smiled at him and replied with a slight accent: "You seem to be very busy, Mr. Potter, I made a request a month ago."

Harry sat at the table, looking sadly at the notepad rustling in front of him, under which his appointment book was buried: "Unfortunately the one-month wait for an appointment should be considered speeding up, I'm sorry, I don't remember your name..." He looked for his notebook to see if the secretary had scribbled down any background information about the appointment.

"Mrs. Hendricks." The woman looked like everyone's cookie-baking and knitting grandma: "But please call me Nana."

Harry vaguely remembered: "How can I help you?" he asked.

"I've lived in London for a few years since my grandson was killed. I'm planning to go back home to Copenhagen, Mr Potter, but with my grandson's body. We have a family cemetery and I always remember to give my grandson a A decent funeral."

Harry frowned. His appointment book appeared, and he flipped through it.Hell, he found himself busy until at least noon, and he didn't have much time to try coaxing Ginny out for his morning coffee: "I'm not sure I got it." Harry was still distraught.

She still looked kindly: "Well, you have his eyes, you know."

Harry looked up in fright: "Say it again."

"You have his eyes," Nana Hendricks repeated patiently. "My Arne was killed in Knockturn Alley five years ago and his eyes were taken. I believe they were tried as murderers." Did you testify in court?"

Memories flooded in. Harry took off his glasses, leaned over to wink at the old lady, and for the first time noticed her eyes were blue and green, slightly cloudy with age, and he realized that he was staring intently.

"It's you! You're the one who planted the FidaMia spell on Malfoy and Hermione!"

"I didn't cast FidaMia, young man," she corrected. "I just let it happen."

Harry was stumped: "I knew about it, but I wasn't working for the Ministry of Magic when it happened."

"Oh, I know," she nodded. "I could make an appointment with the person in charge, but given your personal involvement in this case, I think you'll be able to move the whole thing forward."

Those old eyes twinkled pleadingly.

Via the Floo, Harry summoned the relevant staff, who happened to be Zacharias Smith.Smith wasn't too happy about being sent across the Ministry of Magic to find things like a needle in a haystack of five years of evidence, but Harry had a knack for persuasion.

"They're back together, you know, Malfoy and my friend, Hermione," he told Nana Hendricks while they waited.

She doesn't seem surprised: "When my child was killed, I was thinking about retiring from then on. I had no mood or inclination to continue without dear Arne, our last job together It's just that special young couple that really hit it off. It turned out to be a real FidaMia, and I'm sure that doesn't happen very often." She stared at Harry, her face lined with wrinkles: "The grand finale, you know? That young Man and his wife, they are still your acquaintances, aren't they?"

"Friend," Harry corrected, "what does FidaMia not guarantee to happen often mean?"

"Not all love is the same, Mr. Potter, it's a Muggle proverb, you can lead a horse to the river, but you can't force it to drink, can you? People's hearts are stubborn things sometimes, But on the other hand the soul knows the truth."

Harry's heart felt heavy and dull, and he suddenly wanted to apologize to Ginny...

As if she could read Harry's mind, the old lady's cloudy eyes looked down at Harry's desk, where there was a picture of Ginny glaring at Harry with folded arms.

"Wife?" Nana Hendricks asked.

"Uh, no, girlfriend."

She reached into her felt bag and fumbled for a moment, producing a walking stick, a copper pot, and what appeared to be a set of steak knives.Finally she happily produced a crumpled business card: "Ah, found it." Then she flattened the card and handed it to Harry.

The bright purple content consisted of a series of wriggling cursives that only formed words once the translation spell had been infused into the card and it was recognized that it was Harry's native English that needed to be displayed.

Bored with the old "I do"?

Looking for a private, meaningful way to live forever?

Why not try a marriage tattoo?

Go to Nana at the Serpent Stone Tattoo Parlor,

Knockturn Alley, Magic London.

Give away a free commemorative mug in May.

Permanently, well, Harry thought, clearing his throat.His memories of the trials and tribulations of Hermione's personal experience at FidaMia were still fresh.

"Oh yes, well... my girlfriend and I... really appreciate your offer, Mrs. Hendricks, but FidaMia is not what we want."

She shrugged. "Then tell the young man and his wife, even their children."

Harry coughed, the image of little Draco running around was enough to give him a headache, and little Hermione, on the other hand, was clearly a beautiful and charming existence.

The door rang.

"Come in." Harry called.

Zacharias Smith came in, carrying a little box stamped "Evidence," looking a bit flustered.

"This may be what you're looking for...although I don't recommend opening it."

"Thanks, Smith." Harry took the box.

Zacharias looked curiously at Harry, then at Nana Hendricks, and finally at the box.

"Thanks, Smith," Harry repeated.

Harry wordlessly handed the box to Nana Hendricks when Zacharias left somewhat annoyed.She quickly opened the lid, looked in quickly, and closed it with tears in her eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, that's a lot for an old lady."

Harry helped to pick up her bag and watched her go out: "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Me too, my child, me too."

The author has something to say:

I thought it was a normal chapter, and it turned out to be exhausted again...

The old acquaintances Ron and Nana appeared on the stage, marking a successful conclusion, the countdown to the end, and the grand finale soon.

It took [-] months to complete the translation of this article. As a commemoration of this difficult time, I will make the only custom order.

Let me make a statement: Customizing non-publications is the same as taking the electronic version to a print shop to print a stack of A4 paper, but the binding is more beautiful, and it is not for profit.And because I need to use the Jinjiang platform, it may be a little expensive, but my purpose is just to collect it for myself, but everyone is welcome to collect it.

At present, the cover is 35 yuan, the two illustrations are made by friendship, and the two are [-] yuan. I basically trade at a loss. If I really make money, I will donate it to public welfare through Weibo. After the customization is completed, all accounts will be announced on Weibo details.Because this is a translation, we promise not to make any money, and old friends understand me.

Thank you for your long-term support~

The last tip:

After the full text of this article is finished, I will overhaul the locked article. I will make a link to the revised version and put it on the copy, or you can also follow my Weibo. Generally speaking, I will directly put it in the network disk of Weibo for everyone to download. One is because JJ needs Moonstone to download the full text, and the other is that it cannot be completed because of river crabs, even if Moonstone is downloaded, it is still a defective product.

Finally, if you like me, please bookmark the author column.

I will open a new article around the New Year, thank you very much!