Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter... If I did, Draco and Hermione would be canon.
A/N: My story will kind of follow the some of the original setting (in terms of deaths and some events) of the series, although I will make some changes. I need feeback, so please review afterwards. Enjoy!
March 22, 2016 Revamped the time setting. When I first published this story, I made the basis of the setting on the 21st century, but after thinking about it, I just reverted the basis of the setting back to the 20th century.
May 1998. The Battle of Hogwarts. The Second Wizarding War. The day Harry Potter, the Chosen One, defeated the most powerful Dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort.
November 1999. After appointed as Britain's Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, along with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger reformed the Ministry of Magic, and succeeded in reducing corruption and pro-Pureblood laws.
December 1999. Pureblood families who valued the "Pureblood supremacy boycotted" the British Wizarding Community, which caused a sudden economical decline within the Wizarding World.
January 2000. An agreement between the Purebloods and the Ministry was agreed upon to ensure the unity, and most especially economic support of the Wizarding community—a union between a Pureblood and a Muggleborn. All unwed names of the opposing Purebloods, and Muggleborns were entered for a random arranged-union.
January 2000. A week after all names were collected, the first drawing commenced within the Muggleborns. Kingsley Shacklebolt hesitantly announced the name to the public. Hermione Jean Granger.
January 2000. The drawing for the Purebloods commenced, and the name was announced publicly. The opposing Pureblood community were relieved their off-springs would continue on as purebloods, however a tint of displeasure was seen among the reactions, such that their sheep out-for-slaughter was of the Four Noble Houses. The last direct descendant of the Four Noble Houses. Draco Lucius Malfoy.
January 2000. After hours of disagreement of what was to be included within the Union Agreement of the Pureblood-Muggleborn Unity Relations, both parties involved reached consensus. Wedding preparations were handled by Narcissa Malfoy.
May 2000. Family and close friends attended the ceremony. No congratulations offered, no vows uttered, no kisses exchanged... with only the swish of a quill, their union was sealed. Formal photographs were taken for the front page of the Daily Prophet. After all, it was the day Ms. Insufferable Know-it-all became Hermione Jean Malfoy.
Hermione's POV
After they've apparated to their villa, Hermione released her grasp on Draco Malfoy's arm. She was thankful that Lucius and Narcissa gave them a place of their own, since she would not want to live in the Malfoy Manor—the place where she was tortured. Though she thought it was likely they bought the villa so they would not have to share a roof with a Muggleborn.
The exterior of the villa was composed of white arched windows and ledgestoned walls washed with white, with pillars supporting the roof. High walled gates protected the land, with shrubs and trees surrounding the gates, shielding the villa from the prying eyes of the neighborhood. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Imprisoned in a forced union, all she can do was make this place a home.
She followed behind Draco Malfoy as he pushed the main doors open, with a house-elf standing aside to greet them.
"Show her to her room." Draco disappeared to left side of the staircase, probably headed to his own chambers, without giving her much more of a second look.
"Right this way, mistress." Hermione followed the elf up the right staircase. Walking past two rooms, they reached the end of the hall. The house-elf pushed the doors open.
"Thank you, mm... what's your name?"
"Spinks is Spinks, mistress. Do not worry to thank Spinks, mistress. Spinks live to serve young master's command. If mistress does not need Spinks, Spinks will go now."
Hermione nodded. As much as she hated having a house-elf, she had to deal with it. All living conditions were to be handled by the Malfoys.
Walking through the door adjacent to her bedroom, she reached down her back to undo the zipper. With the white gown on the floor, and her body clothe in undergarments, her eyes landed on the big mirror, staring at the necklace dangling around her neck. Pools blurred her vision.
Never had she imagined herself to be married this way. Everything was going well after the Second Wizarding War with Ron and Harry by her side. They were able to pass laws to unify Purebloods, Halfbloods, and Muggleborns. But things did not go so well when some Purebloods, who were too proud to be mingling with the rest of society, chose to boycott the community. Agreements were made, then names were chosen.
Long fingers fiddled the silver band linked to the necklace. She was supposed to be Hermione Jean Weasley. They were supposed to get married, have two red-head kids, and live a happy life. Damn Harry for bringing Ron out of country! Damn both of them for buying her ring some place else! Damn him for not keeping up with the Daily Prophet! Damn him for asking her too late!
Her body sunk to the floor as tears spilled from her eyes. She did not like to be married to Draco Malfoy, the boy who tried to make her school life miserable. The boy who bullied her, just because of her blood-something that she can't change. Her union with him was just an agreement—her parents, Harry and Ginny, Molly and Arthur, Luna and Rolf, and Neville attended the ceremony to give her their support. Hermione needed it.
But they were not enough.
She needed him... She needed Ron.
Hermione stood in front of Draco's room, gathering up the courage to knock on his door. After the wedding last night, they've retired to their own rooms without sparing any last words between each other. She knocked on the door twice.
"Malfoy." Her voice called out, but there was no response. She tried two more times, before she gave up.
Light footsteps echoed throughout the house as Hermione explored each room, leaving Draco Malfoy's room alone. Although the house technically a villa, filled with excquisite furnitures, it felt so empty.
With her hands wrapped around the knob of the last room left to be explored, she turned it. Awed by the books displayed in the room, she walked in, running her hands through the spines of the aged books.
A cough interrupted her thoughts. "Merlin! Malfoy, you startled me!"
"Need something?" Draco raised his platinum eyebrows.
"I-I..." She cleared her throat, "I was looking for you." Hermione swore she saw him roll his eyes, before averting his focus back on the book on his hand. She inwardly scoffed, that bloody git dare roll his eyes on her.
"Now you found me. What do you want?"
"Well Malfoy, just to let you know, I will be out with Ginny."
"Hn."
"Married, my arse." Hermione muttered under her breath, irritated with the rudeness he was giving her. Can't he at least act civil with her? They were going to spend the rest of their lives with each other. Shaking her head in disappointment, she turned to leave his study.
He scoffed loudly, making sure she heard him before she shut the door. "You're a Malfoy too, Hermione."
It was almost a week since Hermione became a Malfoy, but she still wasn't used to people referring her as 'Malfoy', instead of 'Granger.'
What's more was, life in their house was dull. After the whole 'You're a Malfoy too, Hermione' incident, she couldn't bring herself to start a conversation with him. It wasn't that she could not think of any conversations, she just didn't know what to call him. Draco? No. She can't call him by his first name, they weren't even friends!
On top of that, every night she sat opposite of him for dinner, the only time they saw each other, he seemed to always be in a bad mood. Assuming that maybe he was trying hard not to curse at her, for eating on the same table as him, her being a Muggleborn and all, she had to give him props for being somewhat accepting.
Nevertheless, she still could not get herself to rebrand Draco Malfoy—that cocky git witches in Hogwarts fancied over, dubbing him as the 'Slytherin Prince.' Not that she denied his good looks... He just wasn't her type.
It was obvious thay Draco Malfoy has changed... somewhat. He was able to stay in the same room as her, and not throw blood-related curses at her. Much less, he called her by her actual name... which still weirded her out.
Hermione wasn't one to stick to the past—her being an advocate of the bright future ahead of them. It was just weird for Malfoy not to be... well, Malfoy. She knew the Second Wizarding War changed everyone. And it affected everyone, regardless of what side they fought for.
Sighing heavily, work was her only chance to escape the madness. With a position at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, there was never a day it was not 'tedious in the extreme.'
Well overall, there was never a lax day at the Ministry. Even with Voldemort gone, his last surviving Death Eaters were still out there hiding. Moreover, aspiring Dark Wizards were out there, trying to topple Voldemort off as the 'Most Powerful Dark Wizard of All Time.' Good thing that part of the Union Agreement with the Malfoy Family was they provide the Ministry all the names of Voldemort's inner circle, and it was up to Harry and Ron, who were now Aurors, to chase down these Dark Wizards.
Speaking of Ron... Hermione hasn't seen him lately in the Ministry. The last time she'd seen him was February, the day he proposed to her, and the same day he found out that she was to be married off to Draco Malfoy. She slumped over her desk, burying her face on top of her almost done paperwork.
Draco's POV
Cold water splashed his face to get him back to his senses. Droplets slid from his pale face as he stared at the mirror. No, this was not a dream. Yes, he is married to Hermione Bloody Granger; the bush haired buck-teeth girl he used to pick on for being friends with Potter; the girl he had called Mudblood; the only girl who dared punch his face; and the only person who influenced him to change for the better.
He shivered at that dark memory buried at the back of his mind. Refusing to identify Potter to his family, his Aunt Bella took the route of torturing Granger for the fun of it. As much as he did not like his classmates because of their ideals, especially Granger for her blood status, he was not that heartless to offer them in a silver platter to the Dark Lord. When Bellatrix used the Cruciatus Curse on Granger, she made him watch and listen to Granger's agonizing screams. It was unbearable for him to be in that same room, so he had excused himself, praying to Merlin that Potter would miraculously find a way to escape and get his friends out of the manor.
Drying his face off with a towel, he ran his hand through his damp hair. Little by little the Muggleborn stigma instilled to his upbringing were slowly diminishing—it might be slow, but progress is what counts. It was time to move forward. She isn't a Mudblood. She's a Muggleborn. He told himself over and over again.
With everything going in his mind, he hadn't realize that he was in front of her door, ready to knock. Closed fist stopped half-way on the air when he heard whimpers echoing through the door. A pang of guilt shot him. His fist dropped back to his side. Was she crying because she got married to him of all Pureblood Wizards? Was it that bad to be married to him?
A sudden irritation built up in him. She wasn't the only one who lost her freedom, he did too. How could she be so selfish?
And so with a crack, he disapparated away.
Gray eyes shot open. Silk sheets were drenched with sweat, and his breathing was ragged. Draco sat up and rested his head on both of his hands.
Blood rapidly pumped to his head. "It's just a dream." He spoke to himself, trying to calm himself down.
The room was as dark as when he had come home from his short trip to Blaise a few hours ago. And there was no way he'll be able to sleep it off, seeing that it was almost quarter to 6.
Deciding to get on with the day, he headed to his bathroom to start up his bath, and when it was filled, he submerged himself in. The nightmares started during his sixth year, when he was forced to become a Death Eater. And even with the war finished, he would still get them every now and then.
Oh the price he had to pay, for the sake of saving his family from the Dark Lord.
Draco finished his bath and headed on the ground floor to his study. There was nothing else he could do now except read his worries away.
His concentration was cut abrupt when he heard his door creak open. Hermione Granger walked in his study, browsing through the books tucked into the shelves attacked to the wall. It was obvious she hadn't noticed him yet, so he cleared his throat, successfully grabbing her attention.
"Merlin! Malfoy, you startled me!" She placed her hand on her chest.
Malfoy? "Need something?"
"I-I..." Hermione stuttered.
He examined her from head to toe, rolling his eyes in process, then proceeded reading Libatius Borage's Advanced Potion-Making section on Alchemy.
"I was looking for you."
Well, that surprised him. "Now you found me. What do you want?"
"Well Malfoy, just to let you know, I will be out with Ginny."
Should he ask her where they were going? Draco opened his mouth, but "Hn," was all that came out.
Before he could say anything else, she turned around to leave, muttering under her breath. "Married, my arse."
That ticked him. How dare she say that when it was her who called him Malfoy, whilst she's considered one. "You're a Malfoy too, Hermione."
Life after Hogwarts was dull. Draco laid on his bed, throwing an inactive snitch up, then catching it back down before it hit his face. The action was repeated numerously, and was tiring him a little, but there was nothing else he could do. For others, being rich was considered a blessing. It gave them the freedom of spending a few galleons, every now and then. But for Draco, being filthy rich was boring the life out of him. It gave him, and probably 10 generations down, the security and comfortability of a carefree life with mountains of galleons to spend. Should I get a job at the ministry? His hand missed the snitch, and it ended up smacking right on his face. Well, that answers no. He rubbed his sore face.
The daily life of Draco Malfoy outside Hogwarts was basically a routine.
Sundays revolved around alchemy. He solely read books and manuscripts, to further hone his knowledge into proper application of alchemy.
Mondays were field works. He visited Diagon Alley to look for more alchemy-related manuscripts and books, or Knockturn Alley to browse for dark artefacts to add in his collection.
Tuesdays were socializing days. His circle of closest friend, would visit the appointed host to catch up on whatever life dilemma they were having. Un-Slytherin as this might sound, wizards still need to socialize.
Wednesdays were business-related days. Although he doesn't do manual labor, something only commoners and servants were meant to do, he visited the Malfoy Apothecary, to sign contracts.
Thursdays were quidditch days.
Fridays and Saturdays were his free days. Save for the once a month Saturday meetings of the Sanctus Club, a private prestigious Gentlemen's Club reserved for the upperclass Wizards of the society.
Speaking of the past few days, the atmosphere at the villa was as dull as the manor. With a wife working in the Minsitry, it gave him 'space' for the whole day. But when dinner came, sitting across without talking, felt like his saliva was spoiling in his mouth. It was not that she was ruining his appetite, it was because he hasn't had any proper conversation with her.
Draco sat up his bed, thinking of a way to build a relationship with Hermione. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together, might as well learn how to communicate properly with each other.