The Arrangement
Chapter 1
Hermione climbed into her bed in nothing but her underwear. She felt heavy, at a loss, empty. Try as she might, there was just no word to properly convey whatever emotion she was feeling. She reached over to her pillow to pick up the green sweater and brought it to her face. It smells like him. She slipped it on and lay down. It was silent. She closed her eyes in hopes of sleeping, but found that sleep eluded her. She shifted into a different position and tried once more to no avail. She turned over to stare at the photograph on her desk. It was a muggle photograph and did not move, but she didn't need it to for the memory of that day was as vivid as if it were just yesterday. She shut her eyes, not wanting to remember.
She heard a creak as the door to her chamber was opened and a shuffle of clothing. The door shut. She made no move to see who it was as only one other person had the password to the Head Girl's bedroom. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. She focused on the steady, rhythmic beating and steeled herself for what to come. Her visitor took a tentative step towards her four-poster before pausing hesitantly. She did not move.
"Hermione?" Draco Malfoy whispered. When she made no acknowledgement that he even said a word, he climbed into her bed. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, breathing in her usual earthy scent. "I'm sorry. I thought…I thought that you'd be more understanding of the situation. My family is as traditional as a pureblood family can get." When Hermione made no reply, he pushed on. "Of course I will refuse to marry her, but it won't be as simple as sending my mother an owl. Ever since father died and the Dark Lord fell, it's been tough for her. She's alone, Mine. It's been…"
At the sound of the pet-name he called her, Hermione closed her eyes and remembered the first time he called her that. In her mind's eye, she was her swotty 6th year self, sitting in the library with Hogwarts, A History when Draco Malfoy of all people takes the seat in front of her.
"We need to talk, Granger."
Hermione took her time finishing the page she was on before closing the volume and turning her attention to the angry blonde glaring holes into her head. "How could I be of service, Ferret?"
His lips curled into a snarl. "You bloody know what you and your git friends did, Mudblood, and I demand you return my broomstick!" He had returned to his dorm from potions when he saw his broom missing from where he usually kept it at the foot of his bed. After interrogating every slimy Slytherin he could get his hands on and threatening to Avada several other students, he finally got word that The Golden Trio had talked a nervous first year into stealing his precious Nimbus. Potter and his pet Weasel were hiding like cowards in their common room where Draco couldn't get to them, but not Miss Mudblood Princess Granger. "Where is my fucking brookstick?" He demanded when she made no reply.
Hermione pressed a finger thoughtfully to her lips. "Hm, I wonder, Malfoy, if you quite like great heights. I know if I were you, I'd scale the highest building to retrieve my precious broomstick. But you know that's just me." Flashing him her most brilliant smile, she picked up her books and strode out of the library.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Draco moaned into his hands as the meaning of her words sunk in. True enough, his broomstick was happily levitating above the astronomy tower.
The next day, Draco hunted her down and pulled her into a nearby broom closet. "I know it was you who kept my broomstick up there, Mudblood. Potter and Weasley don't have the mental capacity."
Hermione raised her eyebrows and hugged her books tighter to her chest. "And what if it were me, Ferret? What are you going to do, call your dead daddy back from the grave to hex me?"
"How dare you speak of my father that way, you filthy mudblood! Who do you think you are?"
"How dare you call me a mudblood , you stinking ferret!"
"Disgusting slag!"
"Snot nosed, bitching little git!"
"Go back to your muggle hovel!"
The sound her palm made against Draco's cheek reverberated throughout the dark little room. They stared each other down for what seemed like years before Draco's lips met hers. She returned his kiss hungrily, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting her books crash to the floor. "You're mine," he growled against her mouth. "Mine."
Hermione pulled away and gave him her best Malfoy smirk. "You still won't get your broomstick back unless you climb those turrets, Ferret. This'll teach you to make gooey eyes at that Greengrass bird in Potions!" At that, she turned away from him and sauntered away, leaving a frustrated Draco to trail after her.
"Please, please say something." The sound of Draco's voice in her ear brought her back to the present. Hesitantly, she turned over so she was facing him. His eyes searched hers hungrily for any sign of affection or forgiveness. "Love?"
Hermione sighed and let herself be pulled closer. "I…I don't even know how I feel about this. I mean, you and…and Pansy are a pureblood match made in heaven. Who am I to interfere?"
"Who are you to—do you not recall who you are to me? You have every right to interfere! Pansy may want this, but you know I don't. You know I'll do everything in my power to talk my mother into accepting you, to accepting us." Draco was pleading now.
Hermione closed her eyes and pulled her hands out of his. "I need to be alone right now. Please."
Draco felt his heart give a lurch. "Can I stay? I won't say a word, just please let me stay."
"No, Malfoy. Not tonight." Hermione had already turned her back to him. Draco knew at the use of her surname that it wouldn't be wise to push her any further.
"Alright then." Draco acquiesced, albeit reluctantly. He climbed out of her bed and leaned over to stroke her hair softly. "I love you, Mine."
Hermione waited until the door shut to relax and release the breath she had been holding.