Pancakes. The familiar scent of the sweet batter cooking in a pool of hot butter hit him like a ton of bricks. His wife was a terrible cook and usually let Draco take over that task within their household, but there was one day every year that she tried her very best to produce his favourite breakfast: June 5th. It was a day that he now looked forward to, and over the years his wife had managed to perfect her cooking of the pancakes.
Before they had married, Draco loathed his birthday. To him, it was a reminder of all the terrible things that he had done in his teen years. He had been forced to take the Dark Mark on June 5th 1996–his sixteenth birthday. Upon taking that mark, he believed that he was protecting his family, but knew that it was at the cost of his own happiness and the innocent lives of others. How many people had died because he let the other Death Eaters into Hogwarts on June 30th, 25 days after his seventeenth birthday? Would Dumbledore still be alive if he hadn’t?
After the Battle of Hogwarts had been won, Draco had been captured and sentenced to life in Azkaban prison for attempted murder, war crimes, accomplice to war crimes, accomplice to torture, and accomplice to murder. He had been on his way to his cell when Kinsley Shacklebolt himself had interrupted his processing. Apparently a witness had come forward to provide a statement backed up with evidence that Draco assumed would have been memories. The witness had attested to Draco’s character and informed the Wizengamot that Draco’s actions were not spiteful or done out of hate, but that they were necessary in order for him to protect him and his family.
That witness was Hermione Granger.
He was instead put on house arrest for six months or until such time when the Wizengamot believed that he was no longer a threat to the wizarding or the muggle community.
For the first month, Granger had attempted to visit Malfoy Manor on no less than thirteen different occasions, but Draco had instructed the elves to not allow her to take one step inside the Manor.
For the second month it was much of the same, although her attempted visits had decreased to nine. His mother insisted that he should at least listen to what she had to say, and frustratingly reminded him that Granger had saved him from spending the rest of his life inside Azkaban Prison alongside his father. Draco still refused to see Hermione.
It was in the third month that she forced her way into the Manor and hit Draco with a silencing spell, forcing him to listen to her without interrupting. Her hair was just as wild as the fire burning in her eyes. A shade of pink was beginning to creep up her neck and colour her face as she vocalised quite loudly what she thought of Draco. He was ungrateful, arrogant, rude, and undeserving of her help. Once she released him from the silencing spell, Draco had no difficulty telling Granger that he never asked for help nor had he wanted it and watched as she turned her back on him and strode back the way she had come.
Of course that wasn’t the last he saw of her. Draco should’ve expected that his meddlesome mother would intervene and invite her back to the Manor.
Hermione Granger was an insufferable, sarcastic bitch and Draco was convinced that the only reason she continued to show up at the Manor was to make his life a living hell. Narcissa had given permission for the Gryffindor witch to explore the Manor and everything it had to offer, and it came as no surprise that Draco found her in the two-storey library filled with books that the Malfoy family had been collecting since the Manor had been built in the early 1000’s by his ancestor, Armand Malfoy.
Draco had found Granger tucked away in the furthest corner of the large room engrossed in one of the many books on dark artefacts that lived on the shelves within the library. Draco didn’t know what had changed that day, but when he saw her, he knew that something definitely had. He felt it deep within his bones and by the way her breathing had changed when she noticed him stalking towards her, it was clear she did too.
They reached for each other at the same time and it wasn’t long before Draco had cast a muffliato to hide the sounds of tearing fabric and their combined breathy moans. Draco pinned Granger against the nearest bookshelf with her hands above her head as he pounded into her, her screams ricocheting off the stone walls as they came undone together.
They could barely keep their hands off each other from that day on, and anyone with eyes could see it.
Once Draco’s house arrest had been lifted, Granger moved in and not long after that Draco had asked her to marry him. This year would mark their ninth wedding anniversary, and Draco considered himself the luckiest man in the world that he was able to call Hermione Granger his wife.
As Draco stretched his arms above his head, he heard a bustling outside of his bedroom door and a smile crept onto his face as he pulled the covers back up and closed his eyes, pretending to be still asleep for another birthday tradition to take place.
“He’s still sleeping,” Draco heard his wife whisper and two pairs of tiny feet padded towards him. He felt the end of his bed dip and struggled to hold in his laughter before two bodies threw themselves on top of him.
“Wake up!” “Happy Birthday Dad!” Two voices yelled as his eldest, Scorpius and youngest, Athena climbed over him. He kissed each of them on their forehead as he gathered them up in his arms, vowing to treasure these moments for as long as he lived.
He finally looked to the doorway and saw Hermione in a plain, oversized white tee with her hair pulled up in a messy bun and her wand holding it all together. She was leaning casually against the door frame with her arms crossed over her chest and a knowing smile on her face. She knew that Draco always woke before Scorpius and Athena made their way into the room to wake their father, and that every year Draco pretended to be sleeping so that they could experience the joy of waking him up for his birthday.
“Good morning,” she said as she made her way over to her side of the bed and navigated her way around Athena to place a kiss on his lips.
“Morning, Granger.” He replied as his kids scrambled off him and ran out the door, returning a minute later with three expertly wrapped gifts in emerald green paper. Bloody predictable Granger, he thought to himself as Scorpius handed him the first gift.
“This one’s from me! I picked it out!” Scorpius knelt in front of Draco as he ruffled his son's platinum locks before carefully unwrapping his first gift to reveal a simple black box. Draco lifted the lid to find a sleek silver muggle pen with Dad engraved on the side. Hermione had introduced him to pens very early on in their relationship, and since then Draco found himself carrying one everywhere he went.
“Thank you Scorp, I love it.” Draco pulled his son in for a hug before Athena was crawling onto his lap, dragging the larger of the three gifts with her and curling into Draco’s side.
“Mine next, Dad!” Draco brushed his daughter's hair to the side and placed a kiss on her rosy cheek. She had inherited her wild mane from her mother, but like Scorpius it was a brilliant shade of white blonde.
“What do we have here, hm?” Once again Draco carefully peeled back the wrapping to reveal a pearl box with intricate black patterns along the edges, and in the centre read Twilfitt and Tatting’s, a shop where Draco had purchased some of his favourite suits.
Draco lifted the lid to reveal a handsome, tailored, striped navy suit. He had mentioned to Hermione a few weeks ago that he was thinking about purchasing a new suit, and a smile spread across his face as he looked up and met his wife’s deep brown eyes.
“Do you like it, Dad? Mummy helped me pick it out!” Athena wrapped her arms around Draco’s neck and pressed her face against his, causing Draco to laugh wholeheartedly at his excited daughter.
“Yes, Athena, I love it. Thank you.” He pulled both of his children into an embrace. “Thank you both.”
“Why don’t you two go and set the table while I give Daddy his last present?” Hermione suggested, and eventually Scorpius and Athena dragged themselves away from their dad to do as their mother had told them.
When they had left Hermione climbed onto Draco’s lap, resting her knees on each side of him. She handed him his last present as she pressed kisses up the column of his neck and along his jawline, only stopping to wish him a happy birthday.
“You know, Granger, I could get used to you calling me daddy.” He said before leaning in and capturing her bottom lip between his teeth causing her to quietly moan.
“Stop, Draco, not now. The kids could walk in.” Hermione wriggled herself out of Draco’s arms much to his disappointment. “After breakfast. Now here, open this.” She shoved the last gift towards her husband and ducked her head down.
“What’s wrong?” Draco reached towards her but she pushed his hand away.
“Nothing, it’s just–” she flicked her eyes back up, looking at him through her thick eyelashes “–just hurry up and open it.”
Draco narrowed his eyes at her before unwrapping his last gift. He opened a small charcoal box to reveal two silver cufflinks, one with D and the other with H.
“Granger–”
“It stands for Draco and Hermione. I know it’s silly, and you probably think it’s ridiculous but you’re mine and I want everyone to know that–” Draco reached forward and grabbed her jaw, pulling her towards him before forcefully placing his lips on her.
His hands abandoned his gift and instead found solace tangled in her curls, pulling the strands loose from the bun atop her head.
Hermione’s hands slowly crept towards him and slipped underneath the ivory bed covers, grazing his hardening cock. The action elicited a deep moan to rumble in the back of Draco’s throat. “Granger… I–”
“Mum! Athena burnt Dad’s pancakes!” Scorpius’ voice interrupted the moment, and Draco buried his face in the side of Hermione’s neck while she laughed and pulled her hand backwards.
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“We should probably go and make sure the kids don’t burn the place down.” Hermione pulled Draco up with her and he quickly encircled his arms around her waist, pulling her back to his front and laying kisses along her shoulder.
Together they walked out of their bedroom and joined their children in the kitchen before sitting down to a plate full of pancakes. The fluffy treat melted in Draco’s mouth and was cooked to perfection with all the credit going to his wife.
After breakfast, Scorpius and Athena decided to play in the backyard while Draco and Hermione got ready back in their room.
“I am so in love with you, you know that right?” Hermione stood on her tiptoes behind Draco with her chin resting on his shoulder while he brushed his teeth.
“You know I do, Granger. You know that I’m so in love with you too, right?”
“Oh shut it!” She lightly whacked him on the arm before snaking her way around his body so that she was now facing him. She placed her hands on either side of his jaw and opened her mouth to speak, but Draco only heard a muffled sound.
“What was that, Granger?” He asked, and when she tried to speak this time, there was simply no sound at all. “Love, I can’t hear you. Are you alright?”
Hermione cocked her head to the side in confusion, chewing on her bottom lip like she always does when something doesn’t make sense. She tried to speak again, and finally Draco heard her.
“GET UP!”
A man’s voice boomed in Draco’s ears, and it was certainly not the voice of his wife.
“I won’t tell you again, Malfoy!” Draco winced as he felt a sharp pain in the side of his ribs, and when he blinked, he was no longer in the bathroom with Hermione wrapped around him. The lingering scent of sweet pancakes was gone. Instead he woke up laying on a cold hard bench in a small stone cell with a foul stench in the air that made it hard to breathe. In front of him stood a bulky guard with his wand trained directly on Draco.
“Having a nice little dream, were you birthday boy?” The guard chuckled before he reached for Draco, pulling him to his feet and pushing him out the door of his cell.
As Draco shuffled through the dimly lit corridors, he remembered that Granger had never saved him nine years ago. Kinsley Shacklebolt had never interrupted his processing for Azkaban to tell him that a witness had come forward. Draco had never married Hermione nor had he started a family with her. He had never tasted her pancakes on his birthday.
Instead, he woke up cold and alone every day inside the four walls that confine him to his private cell in Azkaban prison, haunted by the fact that the girl he loves is living the life he dreams of with someone that isn’t him, and June 5th was still his most hated day out of the year.