Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: I've thought to try something new. PLEASE review to let me know you like it… On another note. I pose a question or three to my readers. As Muggles who can only read the books and write the fanfics, we choose our own houses. What house have you chosen? Why? And what does that say about those of us, myself included, that have chosen Slytherin?
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Draco paced the halls of his apartment in the Manor. The Dark Lord awaited his answer three floors below. Draco knew the answer he had to give to save his mother's life, but couldn't believe the bride the Dark Lord demanded him to marry. He lowered his head and descended the stairs.
"Ah, Draco, have you decided?" Voldemort asked from the dining room, startling Draco from his thoughts.
"I have." Draco confirmed as he took the seat next to his mother. It was just the three of them at this time. "I'll do it."
"Congratulations, Mistress Malfoy, for your son's impending marriage." Voldemort grinned. Somewhere deep inside Draco, there was resentment that his mother didn't stand for him as he was for her.
"A-and who is the lucky witch?" Narcissa all but whispered. The malicious grin on the Dark Lord's face spread more if it were even possible.
"Hermione Granger."