Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I only like to make the characters into puppets on my strings
"Harry, Ron, Gin! I'm going out!" Hermione called to them as she opened the front door of the Weasley's house.
"Where to?" Ginny asked, causing Hermione to jump as she stepped up behind her.
"Just to get a butter beer." She shrugged, failing to mention that she was going out to get a butter beer and meet with Malfoy. She had sent him a letter asking him to meet her The Three Broomsticks to discuss the arranged marriage. She had also informed him that she had received a letter from the Ministry stating what they required from this marriage.
"Can I come with you?" Ginny questioned. "I could really use—"
"Not this time, please, Gin. I just need to go out there and clear my head about all this marriage stuff." She smiled softly.
The red-head shrugged. "Alright."
With an appreciate smile directed at Ginny, Hermione turned and left. Upon entering The Three Broomsticks, she found herself hating that the place was so empty. In the past when she came here, it would be, on occasion, quiet and that made it a nice place for her to study. But right now, the last thing she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts. The quiet numbness of the room seemed to cause her thoughts to ramble on and on as she sat down and ordered her butter beer.
She would have to marry a mudblood-hating, selfish, arrogant prick, and it was unbearable. Still, things had changed since the war, maybe he had changed. Hermione shifted uncomfortably as she waited, sipping her butter beer. She tapped her foot lightly as she waited, her eyes set on the doorway. Maybe he wouldn't come, he hated her after all, why would he show up?
Just when she decided that he wasn't coming, he emerged through the set of double doors. His pale blonde hair was about the same as it was the last time she'd seen him, but it wasn't slicked back at all, his gray eyes were calm and a bit annoyed as he walked over to her and his black shirt was neatly tucked into a pair of black pants.
He silently sat down in front of her, a sour look on his face, not ordering anything, just sitting there ignoring her.
"Malfoy...we're going to have to talk at some point." Hermione sighed, cupping her butter beer with both hands.
"Not if I can help it." He snarled, casting an angry look at her.
"Well, like it or not we can't change what's already been done. Perhaps if we're lucky they'll repeal this marriage law and we can get a divorce." Hermione shot back.
Rolling his eyes, Malfoy gestured to the letter sitting beside her drink. "Well, what's that letter say anyway?"
"I dunno, I haven't opened it yet," Hermione peeled open the envelope and plucked out the parchment from inside. Opening it, she began to read. "It says that..." Hermione bit her lip nervously, not wanting to meet Draco's eyes so she kept her gaze trained on the sheet of paper. "We must consummate our marriage on the Wedding Night. In addition, it requires us to have regular intercourse, without the use of contraception, magical or muggle, and within two years we must produce a child. If miscarriage, stillbirth or any other complications arise you will be given more time. Also, the Ministry will be providing us with an apartment."
"They want us to...have children together? And live together?" Draco spat, his voice clearly showing his disgust.
"Look, I'm not particularly thrilled about this either but the rules are quite strict and if we break them there will be consequences."
"Whatever. But there is no way I want to fuck a mud—"
"You know what, Malfoy, I'm sick of this! I could be sitting here lecturing you about your past with the Death Eaters and call you a coward for not choosing our side but I don't. I can't change the past with my words and neither can you, and you calling me a mudblood doesn't change the fact that I am what I am." Without waiting for him to say anything, she got to her feet angrily and stormed out of the pub.
Dear Draco Lucius Malfoy,
The Ministry of Magic has prepared your home with Miss Hermione Jean Granger, we'll mail you the address as soon as possible. Your wedding date can be selected from these days "August 5th—August 19th". Please consult your chosen fiancee about this and then send us the date.
Awaiting your owl,
The Head of the Department of Marital Affairs
"Why do they always put that?" asked Blaise, who'd been reading the note over Draco's shoulder.
"Put what?" He questioned.
"'The Head of the Department of Marital Affairs' never a real name." Blaise told him as he swung himself down into the chair next to Draco.
"If you were the one in charge of pairing up mudbloods with purebloods and Gryffindors with Slytherins, would you want everyone to know your name?"
"I suppose not." He shrugged. "Anyway, I met with Lavender today, honestly, she's not that bad, well, for a Gryffindor. She can be a bit intense but she's cool. Did you meet with Hermione, I mean, er, Granger." Blaise flushed a little at his mistake. "Sorry, it's just that Lavender asked me about her and called her 'Hermione' so—"
"Yes, I did, and it didn't go any better than you would think it would." Draco snarled. "My mother will be so disappointed about this, I wrote her today telling her all about it."
"Lighten up, Draco, maybe this won't be as bad as you think. Even if it is pretty bad..." Blaise's voice drowned out as he realized that he had no experience in trying to comfort Draco or even where to begin. "Er, anyway, Pansy is going over to see Weasley tomorrow, maybe you could go with her and talk to, uh, Granger about that whole wedding date thing."
Draco waved a hand dismissively. "Maybe. Besides, I can pick the date just fine I don't need her input on the matter."
He shrugged. "Alright."
Drawing out a sheet of parchment and getting a quill, he began to write a note to the Ministry, selecting the date of their wedding and adding a few complaints for good measure.
It had been deceptively cool for the last two days—as if the weather had been mimicking Hermione's mood, gray-clouding over the sun, ominous silence sitting in the air.
Today, on the other hand, the sun was shining, and Hermione and Ginny laid on the grass outside the house and their faces tipped toward the sun. The ecstasy of warmth freckling her cheeks and her chest is enough to distract her from the idea of marriage, for now.
"Hey, Harry." Ginny smiled brightly, twisting her body around so she could see Harry and Ron walking over to them.
"Hey, Gin." Harry replied, bending down and placing a quick kiss upon her lips before throwing himself down beside her.
Ron sat down next to Hermione, leaning on his elbows. "Have you picked the date for your wedding yet, Hermione?" Ron asked, shielding his eyes from the sun.
"No, I just assumed the Ministry would choose it for us like they chose everything else. Why? Have they sent you something?" Hermione's eyes flickered over to him, her wonderful moment of peace over.
"Yeah, they sent me a list of dates to choose from. I s'pose they've sent it to Malfoy then." He said, sneering over the name Malfoy. "Pansy's coming by tonight, I suspect she'll bring him along."
"She agreed to come here?" Ginny's brows arched in surprise. "Really? I would've thought she'd go on and on about not wanting to come here because if she did she'd catch something."
"I thought that too but she seemed mildly okay with it." Ron shrugged.
Hermione, however, had no comment on any of this, she had been too busy thinking on the subject of Draco actually coming to dinner tonight. She did not want to talk about marriage to anyone right now, least of all him. Godric, help me.
Stupid. Absolutely fucking ridiculous. He was going over to Weaselbee's house-or rather, in Draco's opinion, their shed for dinner. Draco swore violently under his breath as he and Pansy Apparated to the Burrow. It looked different than he thought it would, or not as bad as he presumed it would be, but still it was nothing compared to his beloved manor.
Pansy was busy fixing her hair as they knocked on the door. Draco tugged on his tie, it felt as if it was suddenly tightening around his neck, choking him, as it had done when he pictured this moment. Naturally, he would never choose to show this side of himself in front of them, he would put on his air of arrogance and loathing but he knew it was going to be quite nerve-wracking to sit in a room full of people that hate him.
Dinner had gone better than he expected. The only words he said to Hermione were "Hello, Granger" and all he did the whole dinner was sit next to her and eat. Pansy was actually getting along with Weasley for the most part and she was chattering on about what dress she wanted and what ring and that she got to pick the location of their wedding. Potter and Ginny were doing about the exact same thing, but he and Hermione were eating in silence. At the end of dinner, Pansy was now arguing with Ron on the date of the wedding and Ginny and Harry had disappeared upstairs.
"So," Hermione muttered nervously as she walked with Draco toward the front doorway. "Have you received the letter about our, er, wedding dates?"
"Yeah, I already picked out the date. August 10th." Draco said with a shrug. "I just figured you would be fine with whatever date I chose."
"What if I had something planned that day?"
"Do you?"
"No, but-"
"Well, then, it's fine."
"But that's not the point, Malfoy. You should at least consult me before-"
"It's done with, just leave it."
"No, I will not just leave it!" She huffed. "As your future wife I believe I have a say in-"
"My future wife," Draco sneered. "Oh, please, let's not pretend like either of us give a damn about this wedding."
She blew an exasperated puff of breath out of her mouth and shook her head slowly. "You may be right about that but I still think you should at least try to make an effort and-where are you going?" She shouted as Malfoy turned away from her, opened the front door and started walking away.
"Away."
"You can't keep running away-"
"As I recall, it was you who left our previous meeting." He snapped.
"That's not what I meant. I mean-"
"Fuck off." He still kept his back turned to her, he doesn't want to know, he doesn't want to listen, he doesn't want her to remind him of anything from his past. "And by the way, they say they've prepared a 'home' for us."
Before she could say anything more, he Apparated away.
A/N: I just want to say thanks for the reviews :) And I hope you liked chapter 2