The wind whipped through her hair as she picked her way through the tall weeds. It was not quite morning anymore but not yet afternoon. The wind was cold and the sky was dark and grey. She paused for a moment to take a look at the enormous manor she was approaching. She could see the faded grandeur of the place. She knew that once it had been beautiful, immaculate. But now, the decay of the place was obvious. It had been years since anyone had put any time, effort, or money into maintaining it. Only a hint was left of its former beauty, hidden among the weeds that crept up the walls, the rotting, splintered wood, the crumbling stones. The East wing had burnt down, and no one had even bothered to clear away its charred remains.

The place was a dump. The ground outside was littered with the broken glass of firewhisky bottles, cups, and other various items from the house. There had probably been a party here last night, and from the looks of it, well into the early morning as well. It looked more like a muggle frat house now than a wealthy wizard estate. She sighed and tried to imagine what the house had looked like in its former grandeur. The former grandeur was why she was here, after all. For seven generations, this manor had housed the most powerful wizarding family in Europe. She was here to see the last living member of that family.

She found the front door not locked or warded in any way. The heavy wooden doors creaked open at her touch, allowing her entrance to the manor. One look inside told her that the interior was not in any better shape than the exterior. If anything, it was worse. It stunk like rot and alcohol. She wandered through several large rooms. Various empty bottles scattered the floors as well as empty vials from recreational potions she knew to be illegal. There was the stench of vomit in one room. Several young wizards and witches were still passed out in various rooms from the activities of the previous night. It disgusted her.

There was a large mirror in the hallway and she paused for a moment to study her reflection. She was dressed neatly and conservatively in a business jacket, skirt, and button-up shirt. Her dress shoes were slightly dirty from her trek up to the manor. The only thing out of place in her controlled appearance was her hair, still loose and wild from the wind. She twisted it up and ran her hand over it, casting a spell to neaten it, straighten it, and hold it in place. She had come here on business. She wanted that fact to be clear, so she had dressed for it.

Taking a deep breath, she cast a spell to locate the person she was here to speak with. She followed the movements of her wand, up the large staircase and down a dark hallway. She stopped outside a large double door. This was it. All her preparations of the past six months all hinged on the next few moments. Outside the door, several items of women's clothing had been discarded on the floor. She prepared herself for whatever she might see when the door opened. She took another breath and then wordlessly cast a spell to send both doors flinging open. There he was, lying naked on the large bed facing the door. Two equally naked witches slept there too, amid a tangle of sheets and limbs. Both witches were quite beautiful. Even in his misfortune, he had no shortage of attractive witches willing to sleep with him. It was disgusting. The room was scattered with various articles of women's clothing , empty bottles, and broken objects. The sound of the door slamming open awoke him, but the women remained passed out as he slowly opened one eye.

"Malfoy," She greeted him, not bothering to hide the disgust in her voice.

"Granger," he smirked, "You're late for the party. If you had gotten here earlier, you could have joined in the fun." His eyes drifted down her body. She fought for control of her emotions. As much as she wanted to slap him right now, that was not what she was here to do.

"I have a matter to discuss with you."

He gave her a look of curiosity and opened the other eye.

"I'll be waiting down in the kitchen. Put on some pants." She left the room without even bothering to close the door.

He listened to her footsteps fade down the stairs before getting out of bed and pulling on a pair of worn jeans off of the floor. He hadn't seen this girl in seven years and now, out of nowhere, she comes barging into his bedroom. He had no idea what business she could possibly have with him. Maybe she was just here to rub his face in his misfortune. It must have been so satisfying for her to see the boy who had tormented her all through school serve three years in Azkaban. It must have been so satisfying for her to see him be released after serving his sentence, only to find himself an outcast from society. No one wanted to do business with a Malfoy. He was a Deatheater and a convicted criminal. No one trusted him, no one wanted his reputation to stain theirs. He wasn't invited to any high society parties anymore. No one would do business with him. The family businesses were failing, quickly. He was slowly but surely making his way through the family fortune. He was alone. His entire family was dead. He spent most of his time drinking or taking potions so that he could avoid the tragic reality that his life had become. People came to his wild parties because he supplied what they needed: alcohol, potions, and a place to do it. This way at least he could feel not so alone, even for a little while, especially if there were attractive witches there.

He didn't want to face the woman waiting for him down in the kitchen. She had stood for everything he had been taught to hate and he had tormented her for it. Now the mudblood was worshiped as a war hero along with Potter, the savior of the wizarding world, while he sat in his decaying house. He had even heard that she had worked her way up in the ministry. Things had changed and she represented that change to him more than anyone. This must be so satisfying to her. He knew that he would certainly rub her face in her misfortune if it was the other way around.

She waited for him uncomfortably in the kitchen. It was no less of a mess than the rest of the house. She felt the urge to clean it as she waited, but she didn't want to give him the impression that she was his house elf. Finally the door opened and the man in question groggily stumbled into the room. He swiped his hand across a chair, knocking the empty vials that rested on it to the ground, clearing the place for him to sit. He sat down and summoned a cup of coffee. She watched, still standing. He didn't clear off a seat to her or even offer her anything to drink. He accioed a potion from the cabinet and was just about to pour its contents into his coffee when her hand shot out, covering the coffee cup.

"Malfoy, this is important. I need you lucid for this. After I leave you can get back to your filthy addictions."

He put the vial down on the table and looked up at her, wincing a little at the sunlight that filled the room.

"Just get it over with Granger. If you're here to rub my face in what my life has become, then just get it over with."

"I'm not here to rub your face in your life, Malfoy, I'm here to offer you a way to get it all back."

He eyed her suspiciously. She really shouldn't mess with him like this. She should know what a dangerous wizard he was. Still, if there was even the faintest hope she might be serious, the faintest chance that he might be able to regain his family's wealth and power, he was willing to listen.

"And what could I possibly do to restore my name and credibility to the wizarding world?"

"You could marry me."

He stared at her speechless for several minutes and then looked back down at his coffee.

"Granger, if you just wanted to get in my pants, I assure you there are easier ways, even for a mudblood like yourself."

"Malfoy, that is not what this is about."

He stood and faced her, his eyes alive with anger.

"Then what is this about? What could there possibly be for you in marrying into this?" He gestured at the filthy kitchen that surrounded them and the overgrown yard visible through the dusty, broken window.

She took a deep breath and told him her story.

"I started at the ministry right out of school. Now that we had defeated the Dark Lord, I thought it was a perfect time for change, that the wizarding world would be receptive. I thought it was a great chance to get rid of the old laws and regulations and introduce some new ones. I thought it was time to move the wizarding world forward. I worked hard, for years. In those years, I leaned a lot, but mostly, I learned how naive I was. Somehow I thought that Voldemort had brought the pureblood bias into being and that no one would treat me any differently because of my parentage once he was gone. I learned that he had only exploited beliefs that were already there for his own benefit. I started being left out of promotions that I should have gotten and I figured out why. Also, I learned how weak the ministry is. It is merely a puppet of outside forces. The real power rests in the wealthy pureblood families and in their businesses. If I were to marry you, your name would be restored by my credibility as a war hero, your businesses would be allowed to prosper again, and I would gain access to your family's connections, connections that I need if the necessary changes are going to be made."

He stared at her, considering her points. He had not expected something like this from her. It made him question how well he had ever really known her. Being from a pureblood family, he had grown up with the expectation that he would marry for wealth or power, but certainly not for love. He was guessing this was not the case with her. For her, this was a sacrifice. She was sacrificing herself for the greater good.

"I'll be right back," he said, and slipped into the other room.

She waited and waited, hoping that she had approached this in the right way. She could hear him rifling through drawers in the adjoining room. Finally he returned, holding a ring. He handed it to her and she blew the dust off of it and examined it. It was obviously a family heirloom.

"My mother…was the last to wear it."

She nodded and slipped the ring onto her finger.

"So what's the story?" He asked her. "Why are we suddenly getting married after years of hating each other?"

"We met again recently at a party. Time healed the wounds of the past and we fell in love and wanted to get married right away. Is next month too soon?"

He looked around him at the hellhole that was his life.

"No, not too soon."

"I'll hire someone to plan it. We'll invite all the important families."

"And what role with fidelity have in this farce of a marriage?"

"From what I understand of pureblood society, wives are expected to be faithful, while husbands are expected to be…discrete."

"Does anyone know? Does anyone know you're doing this?"

"Harry. Only Harry."

"And what does he think of all this?"

"He thinks I'm crazy."

"You are."

"I know."

He eyed her appraisingly.

"I'm just surprised you weren't sorted into Slytherin."

She just laughed, turned, and walked out the door, leaving him to return to the two naked witches still in his bed.

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A/n: This is actually the 2nd in my series of "Draco and Hermione get married for reasons other than love" stories. I had three different variations on the same idea and am trying to develop them all.