Hey guys. I know I shouldn't be starting this... but I just let 2 stories go, so that's got to count for something. Remember, some stories are still up for adoption. Now crack open a bag of chips, put your feet up, and enjoy the show.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no profit whatsoever from writing this.
This story is unbeta'ed... cause I'm weird.
(Hermione pov) - No time line whatsoever- Before modern technology. No magic involved... unless you count intellectual ability. Then there is tons of magic.
However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.
- Ephesians 5:33
"Hermione!" Mother called from outside as she walked through the wooden door. "There is a package for you today."
"Thank you, Mother," I said, holding my hands out and grasping the small brown box that she lay in my hands. "Have you any idea what it is?"
"I was not aware of anything coming for you today," She replied, her brow furrowing. "But I do have an inkling as to what it might be."
"I do, too," I frowned. It was coming to that time of year again. "Perhaps we should wait until Ginny returns?"
"Yes, best to wait for your sister. You know how jittery she gets over things like this. In fact... I have a box for her, too. Her first one." Mother smiled, before clapping her hands and prancing deeper into the house, her deep blue dress splaying out behind her.
I frowned and walked towards mine and Ginny's room, laying down on the soft blanket on my bed when I reached it. I stared at the ceiling and rubbed my calloused hands; one tends to forget about dainty beauty when providing for a family. Our father had died 7 years ago- the victim of a horrible sickness. His last days were spent writhing in pain- something a 9 and 11 year old were too young to witness.
Getting the brown boxes with our names on them every year just reminded me of him. Now that Ginny was 16, she would recieve one, too. It would be my second year to attend- since I was 18- but it wasn't likely for me to get picked anyway.
"Hermione! Hermione!" Ginny came running into the house, her long red hair rolling onto her shoulders and the bottom of her dress splattered with dirt. She was looking incredibly expectant- as if the Lord himself was supposed to be sitting in this room. "Have them come yet?"
"Have what come yet?" I asked, still fingering the box that was hidden under my hands.
"The boxes, of course! I finally get one now!" She jumped up and down again.
"Mother has-"
Before I was able to finish my sentence, Ginny burst out of the room, screaming our mother's name. She was back within seconds, panting and gasping for breath with a small wooden box in her hands.
"It is here! I have it!" She clapped as she sat on the floor beside my bed. "Can I open it?"
"You can do what you want with it, Ginny," I sighed, taking my own box out. "It's yours."
She undid the clasp of the cheap, wooden box and tore out the note inside. In the bottom of the box lay 2 rosy pink pearls, each of them reflecting her beautiful face like water.
"Thos were grandmother's," I said softly, closing the lid of her box. "I recieved a piece of silk from her wedding dress the first time I got my box. You can only wear what is inside on the day of the meeting."
"Of course," Ginny nodded, opening the note. She gave it to me with shaky hands. "Please read it to me, Mia. I do not think I can."
I sighed and nodded, folding open the letter. I did not need my own, for it said the exact same thing.
"Ginerva Jane Granger, we are pleased to announce that you are now eligible to attend the annual meeting at the cherry blossom orchards. As you may have heard, all girls through the ages of 16 to 30 are required to attend. It is traditon that once a boy comes of age, he choose a suitable wife to keep his family line alive. You may or may not be chosen.
If you are, you will be instructed further at the scene. You will return every year until you have been chosen, or have succeeded the age limit. As usual, the meeting will be held on the last day of July in the cherry blossom orchards. Congratulations on this momentous event. We wish you the best of luck. Sincerely, King Lupin, lord of the Kingdom of Azkabar, and the Royal Family."
"Good Heavens!" Ginny screamed. "A letter from the king himself?"
"They are all the same, Ginny. Just with different names inserted at the beginning."
"Oh."
We sat nervously for a small amount of time, fiddling with our hair and glancing around the room. Ginny looked so much like our father when she twiddled her thumbs like that. Her flaming red hair was proof that she was our father's daughter, while I took on the chocolate brown hair of our mother. We looked the same besides our hair, teeth and height. Our personality was that of our mother's: Strong, independent, driven and intelligent. The only problem was that we were known to get too carried away sometimes.
"Would you tell me about it?" Ginny asked timidly, scooting on the floor until her back was leaning against my knees. "What is it like, Hermione?"
"Well..." I said, taking her hair and beginning to braid it. "It is very tiresome. We stand in different lines the entire day, waiting to be told whether or not we may stay or leave. We wear the best dresses we have and try to get the mens' attention, so as to try and become their wives. Although the poorer ones like us are often never picked... It does not hurt to try."
Ginny frowned. "I am rethinking this, Hermione. I don't know how to take of a home, a family, or a husband!"
"Ginny, you've been helping me around this house since you were a little girl. You are friends with virtually every person you meet. Babies are a lot to handle and require some learning, but you have instincts when it comes to that. You'll know when you're in that situation." I replied, patting her head after I had finished weaving it into a tight french braid.
Ginny did not reply. She tightened her grip on the box and stood straight up, thanking me and running off to finish her chores. She had been excited for weeks about the day she would recieve her box... only to be frightened when it happened. I felt sorry for her. Although the odds of us both getting picked were slim to none, it was still terrifying to stand there every year with dozens of richer, prettier girls beside you.
"Ginerva?" I heard mother call.
"Yes, mother?"
"Please come into your room; I would like to talk to you and your sister for a moment."
Ginny shuffled back into the room, her braid flopping back and forth as she sat down next to me on my bed. I held her hand like we always did when mother came to talk to us, for it was almost always serious.
"Girls," Mother started, walking into the room and shutting the door, sitting on the lone chair across from us. "I wish to speak about the upcoming meeting at the cherry blossom orchards."
"What of it?" I asked her.
"Ginerva, since it is your first time attending, you do not know what is expected of you, nor why you have to go. Hermione, this is your third, but I have neglected to tell you the history. So it will be your first time hearing this, too." Mother explained.
"Alright," Ginny breathed out, nodding her head.
"Ever since we can remember, it has always been this way. Women are to act with grace and maturity, and much is expected of you. Once married, you are now responsible for the cleaning and upkeep of your home, to care for your husband's needs, raise the children that come out of the marriage, and to be at your husband's side when he calls for you." She said. "Women like us do not have a say in many things. Your husband can punish you if he wishes, for you are legally his property."
"How can a human being be property, mother?" Ginny gasped.
"Those were the 'rules' passed down from generation to generation. A man may have more than one wife, but it is frowned upon in this day and age. As you remember, you were taken out of school at 13 to learn how to take care of your responsibilites. Men are told of all that their wives must do, so they expect nothing less. Always address a man as 'sir' unless they tell you otherwise. Women are to be seen and not heard; do not overstep your boundaries."
"What if my husband were to do something that was completely against my beliefs?" I asked this time.
"Then you will be mature and support your husband's decision," She replied. "Wives can be given and taken away; you must remember to be respectful. But as a wife, you are legally allowed to demand things of him. He is required to work and provide for you and any children you may have, and to see that you are healthy. If he fails in any of that, you will be sent back home to me and attend another meeting." She sighed, getting up and taking both of our hands. "You won't have any choice in what happens to you, I am afraid. But whatever does happen, I want you to rememeber who you are. Do not let anyone change who you are inside, even if you have to keep quiet about it."
"Never!" I exclaimed, bringing my mother into a tight hug. "I will never forget who I am, mother! I swear it."
"I do, too." Ginny said determinedly. She, too, joined in on the hug. "I'll always be Ginerva... yours and Papa's daughter."
My mother sighed, wiping a stray tear.
"Mother?" I asked.
"Yes?" She said as she was just about to leave the room.
"Will you... will you tell us about your meeting? About the time Papa picked you?" I said, hoping she would.
Ever since Papa had died and Mother struggled to provide for her children- let alone herself- she did not like to talk about her late husband. None the less, she sat down next to us and began to speak.
"I was 15. My birthday was the following day, but I was allowed to attend," She then smiled. "I remember that two men had both wanted me. Your father... and your father's brother. They fought over me until someone came over and broke them apart. Your father was so calm... so collected... and I was so drawn to him. They settled it in the only way they knew how."
"They didn't..." Ginny's voice faded away.
"They did. A man came over and judged the fight, only calling for a winner when he saw blood," She shivered. "It was terrible for me to watch. I was very young; I didn't know why they had both wanted me. Then the fight was over, and your father was standing above his only brother, having just cut off his right index finger."
"So that is why Uncle David has four fingers on his right hand?" I mused.
"Precisely." Mother nodded. "Your father was kind to me. He never hit me, nor demanded things of me. I took care of him, he took care of me. We were one of the lucky ones... for we loved each other dearly. Then you two were born... and your father passed away." She took a deep breath. "I know I will see him again when I leave this earth, but it is still very hard to be here every day without him. I seem him in you girls, actually."
She reached over and touched Ginny's hair, then my nose.
"Ginerva, your hair is exactly the same color as your father's. You have my eyes, but your father's everything else." She smiled, then looked at me. "And you, Hermione. I see your fathers dark brown eyes copied perfectly into your face; I would know them anywhere. You look so much like me, only you've taken on your grandmother's love of learning. And the texture of her hair."
I laughed at that. There was a personal joke within the family about my hair, for it was long, bushy and frizzy. I always had to tuck it into some sort of hankerchief, so I would not look like an over-groomed dog.
"Thank you, Mama,"I whispered. I had not called her 'Mama' since the day Papa had died, so hearing it made her happy beyond measure.
"I love you both," She said to us both, squeezing our hands. "So very much."
The weeks leading up to the meeting were filled with chores and preperations, until finally, it was the night before and we were to begin the journey to the orchards, along with the other girls from our small town.
We both stood in the best, cleanest dresses we had, our hair tied in braids on the backs of our heads as mother fixed the gifts to us. Ginny's pearls were pinned onto the middle of her dress, completing it perfectly. My piece of pure white silk was tied around my neck, an elegant bow on the back.
"You two look beautiful," Our mother said, tears brimming her eyes. She grabbed us both into tight hugs before pushing us out the door. "Good luck, my beautiful girls. Your father would be proud."
"I love you, mother," Ginny waved.
"I love you also," I waved too.
All she could do was nod and hold back tears as she watched us climb into the large carriage. We drove away and watched as our small, beaten down shack of a home faded into the distance.
"Hello," The girl sitting beside Ginny said. Besides us, there were four other girls from our town here. "My name is Luna Lovegood."
"Hello Luna," Ginny smiled back. "My name is Ginerva Granger, but you may call me Ginny. This is my sister, Hermione."
I waved but otherwise said nothing.
"Yes yes, that is very interesting," A girl sitting toward the back said, then stuck her hand out in front of me. "I am Pansy Parkinson, daughter of the famous Lady Parkinson and her husband, Dr. Parkinson."
Ah, I remembered this girl. This would be her third year, as it was mine. She was known for being pretentious and snobby, just because her mother had given birth to the first set of live triplets in the history of the Kingdom of Azkabar. Her family had recieved a great amount of money for it, something that made Pansy greedy.
"Nevermind her, Hermione. You must remember me?" A familiar voice called form beside Pansy.
"Cho! It is wonderful to see you again!" I smiled at the girl.
"It is," She nodded. "Forgive Hannah, she's just a bit shy. This is Hannah Abbott, my best friend."
"Hello," She said timidly.
The Abbotts were famous because Alexandra Abbott, Hannah's mother, had discovered a vaccine for chicken pox. It was now being made in every kingdom I knew the name of, yet the Abbotts preferred to save their money and live in their small house, instead of wasting it away.
"It's nice to meet you all," I smiled, relaxing us all into comfortable silence.
The drive to the orchards had taken longer than I thought. We arrived at noon the next day, stretching our legs and groaning as we filed out of the carriage. We each said goodbye and reluctantly split up, finding our lines according to last name. There were about 100 girls here.
"It's alright, Ginny," I whispered as I saw her begin to shake as the first of the men came out onto the fields. "Just be calm."
There were 40 men this year, all of which seemed no older than 25. They looked around with a critical eye and had women behind them, holding parchment and quills.
The first hour was all about looks. The men passed over the girls they did not find physically appealing, and added names down to a piece of paper of the ones they wanted to look through. They were allowed to touch our faces and necks, but were not permitted to go any lower. I had a red-haired man kiss me on the lips, making me red with embarrassment. He winked and moved on, telling the woman behind him to add my name to his list. After a few more men came to look at me, until they all headed back to the end of the field and waited for the official to call out the names of who were to stay. He cleared his throat and spoke as loud as he could.
"Abbott, Hannah."
"Brown, Lavender."
"Chang, Cho."
"Lovegood, Luna."
About 80 other girl's names were called, until they finally reached the end of the list.
"Parkinson, Pansy."
"Granger, Hermione."
"Granger, Ginerva."
We both let out a breath we were not aware we were holding, clasping hands and walking towards the new lines. Now, it was all about the personal information we'd given them. Whether or not miscarriages, stillbirths and early death ran in our families- thankfully, it did not in the Granger line- and when we had started our menstral cycles- things like that. Based off of that list, each male narrowed their lists down to two girls. The rest had to leave.
We got into lines according to the suitor that wanted us; I was standing behind a black haired girl with pale gray eyes. She was short and looked unbelieveably sad. We stood for another minute as the suitor walked around us, assessing us one last time.
The suitor that wanted either me or the dark-haired girl was a tall, slim, muscular blond with a seemingly permanent scowl on his face. He seemed to notice our every movement, making me feel inferior just with his eyes. There was something about his eyes, though. They were a brilliant shade of silver that seemed to draw me in; that was what scared me the most. I had seen him at the last meeting- I believe he'd taken with him a girl named Astoria- which made me wonder why he was back.
I saw Ginny's potential suitor smile at her, his thick, rounded glasses framing his eyes and his black hair hanging around his head in uncontrollable spikes. He looked kind and sweet; he was perfect for my sister.
When all of the suitors had chosen, the official stood on a pedestal above us and read the names of the men and their choices. We were to immediately follow them toward their carriage, where we would make our way to the Royal Castle to be married.
It was that quick.
The man coughed and began to read the names.
"Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood."
"Ronald Weasley, Lavender Brown."
"Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang."
"Oliver Wood, Hannah Abbott."
"Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson."
"Harry Potter, Ginerva Granger."
"Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger."
"Dean Thomas..."
I stopped paying attention after mine and Ginny's names were called. Dear lord... I had been picked. I had been chosen to become someone's wife. To leave my mother and sister and become a mother myself. The tears started to flow from my eyes as I walked toward the blonde man that stood next to Ginny's suitor. Ginny had just reached her suitor, a smile on his face.
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," The blond said, sticking his hand out to grab mine and plant a small kiss on the back. "I am Draco Malfoy, head of the Malfoy family. You may address me as Mr. Malfoy, seeing as we are not married yet."
I could hear the underlying tone of disgust in his voice, which pained me to no end. The way he put his lips on my hand... it was almost as if he were being forced.
"Good afternoon," I offered as response.
"Ah, Miss Granger," Ginny's suitor said, kissing her hand, also. "My name is Harry Potter, but you may call me Harry. I can't help but notice how beautiful you are."
"Thank you, sir," Ginny said politely, smiling.
"Shall we go?" Harry asked her.
"Yes," Ginny replied, taking his arms and letting him lead her to his carriage.
"We must be going, Hermione," Draco said to me, grabbing my arm and lacing in through his. "We can not be late for our... wedding."
"Yes, Sir," I nodded, walking with him.
We did not speak during the short ride to the castle, for I was hurt by the way he spoke to me. Why was there so much disgust? Did he detest the idea of marriage? If so, why had he come to the meeting, let alone chosen me as his wife?
I did not have time to answer myself, for we had arrived at the castle. He had pulled me out of the carriage as fast as he pulled me in, practically dragging me through the halls and into the grand foyer of the castle. This was where the King gave speeches and things of that matter. I did not have time to marvel at the room before a man stood in front us, a paper and two quills in his hand.
"Do you consent to entering into a martial relationship with Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy?" The man asked me.
"Yes," I responded, half-heartedly. Draco then put a single gold ring on my finger, 'Malfoy' etched on the front.
"Put your name here. Your old name." He clarified, handing me the quill. I signed and waited for him to turn to Draco.
"Do you consent to entering into a marital relationship with Miss Hermione Jean Granger?" He asked, handing him the quill.
"Yes," He took the quill and signed it, then handed me a masculine looking gold ring. I slipped it onto his finger and waited patiently beside him.
"By the power vested in me, by King Lupin himself, I know prounce you man and wife," He commanded, handing us the paper. "Best be on your way, then."
In some cultures, I had heard that marriages were sealed with a kiss. It seemed very strange to me, how the touching of lips was the beginning to a life long commitment. In our kingdom, we need only sign a piece of parchment for the commitment to be final. The only way to break it was through adultery or death.
I wonder what happened to Draco's first wife.
"Come," Draco commanded.
I skittered over to him, following behind as we walked into the grand foyer again, standing next to Harry and Ginny, who had just gotten their rings.
"Hermione," Ginny whispered, her voice breaking.
"Ginny," I replied, grabbing her hand and making sure the men did not see.
"I'm scared," Ginny silently cried. "Harry seems nice... but I don't know what I'm going to do without you and mo-"
"Shh," I cooed. "It will be alright, Ginny. You will be alright. We will see each other again when Mother comes to visit."
"But that won't be for another month," Ginny sniffed.
"I know, dear, I know," I comforted her, dropping my voice lower when a girl caught part of our conversation. "If anything goes wrong, or if something happens, we will meet each other underneath the lone cherry blossom tree on the seventh hill."
"But how do I know you will be there?"
"I will be there, Gin. I will know," I touched her face one more time before Draco turned around and pulled me to his side, whispering harshly into my ear.
"Do not embarrass me with your games, foolish girl," He gritted through his teeth, making me wince. "If you cannot keep quiet for two minutes, you will be punished."
In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to yell that I was person, that I had the right to do whatever I pleased. But if I were to do that, he could punish me- he could even kill me- and no one could do anything to stop it. I was his, so no one but the King himself could order him to stop.
"Yes, Sir," I gulped, my manners kicking in. Of course, all of the girls called the men 'sir'- whether or not they were their husbands- but I called him that out of pure fear.
"Good," He replied, letting go of my arm. "Say goodbye to your sister. After the King speaks, we will leave for Malfoy Manor."
As I hugged Ginny, it suddenly hit me that I had become someone else. I had to change for my husband, not of my own free will. But I would not change who I was on the inside.
King Lupin had come with his very pregnant wife, Queen Nymphadora, to bless our marriages, his oldest son in his arms. He spoke of honesty, intimacy, and love, all of which I was unfamiliar with. When he finished, he told us all that he expected us at the customary first ball on the anniversary of our weddings. It was to be held exactly one year from now, same as always.
I had followed Draco- without being told- out to his carriage, where he helped me inside and did not speak to me on the way to the Manor. The way he looked at me... the way he spoke to me... it made me want to cry and scream and ask him if I had done something wrong. I wanted to please my husband in any way possible, and so far, it looked like I was failing.
We drove the rest of the way in silence, giving me time to think.
The whole meeting thing... it was completely barbaric. It gave females no choice in what happened to them; they could be stuck with an abusive man who just wanted them for sex, and they could have done nothing to prevent it. If- Heaven forbid- a woman was to die by the hands of her husband, there would be practically no concequences for him unless he was caught in the act.
Now I was one of those girls that did not have a choice. I did not know a single thing about the man that had become my husband. I was expected to open my legs to him and bear his children- yet I had just met him hours ago. Was not that wrong?
What made men more deserving of choices than women? We contributed just as much to the marriage- we grow humans inside of us for pete's sake. We take care of our families, feed them, and support our husbands and children, not having any other choice. Of course, I would care for any child that I bore, but I would have liked to have a choice as to who the father of said child was. Just because a woman's body was not as muscled as a man's, and because we could bear children, meant we had no choice in anything. In the entire kingdom, the only women with any kind of authority were in the royal family- which only included Queen Nymphadora as of right now.
So women were to be chosen like farm animals at a market, then forced to comply with their owners. We were all human, so what made females unable to make decisions regarding our futures? I wanted very badly to change this, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it now. I would most likely die trying.
I was brought out of my thoughts when we pulled up to a gray, dreary-looking manor, dead flowers around the gates and servants milling around the front.
"Your things will arrive tomorrow," Draco said gruffly as we jolted to a stop. "This is your home now."
With those five words, it occurred to me that this was who I was to be now.
Hermione Granger- a strong, independent woman- was now hidden away, never to see sunlight again. I was Hermione Malfoy, now. Wife to the head of a prominent family in the Kingdom of Azkabar, future mother to the heirs of that family, and above all, it looked as if I was hated in the eyes of my own husband.
That was the year the cherry blossoms died.
A/N: I can understand how you'd be confused, but all will be explained in later chapters. Again, there is no time line here. It's that way for a reason. In this world, women did not have a choice. They were simply mothers and wives. Don't worry, though, Hermione will try to change that. Review? I'd love to know whose on board. It only takes a few seconds. Next chapter should be up in a few days. -Nikki a.k.a.- Twipotterfreak28
P.S.- There will be mentions of God in this story, but it won't be overly religious. There is no time line for this story, and no specific place. It could be in Britain, or America, or Russia... no one knows. It takes place in a kingdom somewhere, at some time or another. But I promise you, it'll be worth the confusion. So who's with me?