Chapter 1

He awoke in a cold sweat as his bedroom door opened. Glancing up, he saw Hermione enter and breathed a sigh of relief. "Did I wake you?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Brows furrowed, she nodded and climbed into his bed. "You were screaming," she told him. "Over and over, you kept yelling to get out and not get hurt. What were you dreaming about?"

Sighing, he laid down beside her. "You," he replied. "They'd already killed my mother, and they were going after you next. I told you to go, but you wouldn't listen. And then-"

"It was just a dream," she assured him, smoothing back his sweaty blond fringe. "The war is over. The Death Eaters are gone. We're safe now. Try to sleep."

It had been five years since peace had come to the wizarding world, but those who fought for it were still plagued by the memories of what they had done, the people they had hurt, and the loved ones they had lost. True to his word, Draco had come back to find Hermione after the Death Eaters invaded the school. But he hadn't been able to find her. Then, while on the run, she and her friends had been caught by Snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor. He watched helplessly as his aunt tortured her. From that day on, he swore he would protect her no matter the cost. When the final battle ended, they found one another, and became inseparable from that day on.

He laid in the dark, staring at the ceiling while Hermione slept beside him. After a nightmare, it always took him awhile to fall back to sleep. It bothered him that she could fall asleep so soon after hers passed. As he laid there he wondered how long their current arrangement could last. It was one thing to befriend a muggleborn, but familial obligation meant he was betrothed to another, a woman of pureblood status.

Beside him, Hermione sighed. "You're not sleeping," she mumbled.

"Neither are you," he retorted.

Sitting up, she looked down at him in the dark. "What's on your mind?" she wondered.

He glanced at her briefly before looking away. "Us," he murmured. "You're going to come to the party, right? I don't know that I can suffer through it without you."

For weeks, she had hemmed and hawed, hoping to get out of going to his engagement party. It was easy to see the hurt in his eyes, and she felt guilty for causing it. "Why are you marrying her?" she asked.

The question had come up before, and more than once, and his answer was always the same. "I have no choice," he said automatically.

Hermione hated that answer and the argument that often followed it. "You do have a choice, Draco," she said softly, having made that point several times. "You don't have to conform to these pureblood ideologies. If you don't want to marry her, don't do it. Stay here with me. We're too young to be thinking about marriage anyway."

"You know you're the only person in the world I care about," he told her. "But there are certain...expectations that I have to live up to."

"Befriending mudbloods isn't a pureblood expectation," she pointed out, then heard him growl. "Sorry. I shouldn't have used that word."

Sitting up, he switched on the lamp and narrowed his eyes. "Being your friend has been worth it," he stated. "I didn't care when it upset my mother and angered my father. I didn't care when friends, people I've known my whole life stopped talking to me because of you. None of that matters to me because I've got you. This betrothal has been arranged since my birth. I can't not go through with it."

"But you don't love her," she replied sadly. "Don't you want to marry someone you love?"

Sighing, he laid back down. "I do," he admitted. "But I have to do this for my family."

Nodding, she left his bed. "I know," she replied. "Try to get some sleep."

He waited until the door closed before shutting off the light. Sleep never came again that night. When the sun rose, he got out of bed and left his room. Hermione was already seated on the sofa with a bowl of oatmeal and the morning paper. "Couldn't sleep either?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

Handing him the bowl and spoon, she nodded. "I've been up since I left your room," she admitted. "I couldn't stop thinking about our talk, and then I was feeling bad about it. I'm sorry I upset you."

"Don't be," he replied. "I know you're right about this. I just don't know how to tell my parents that I don't want to marry Astoria."

"She is nice," Hermione said. "It seems like she's okay with us being friends. Maybe it wouldn't be terrible if you did marry her."

Scoffing, he set down the bowl and gave her his full attention. "So, now I should marry her?" he asked. "Last night, this morning, whenever it was, you were saying I should marry for love."

"And you said you had to marry her for the sake of your family," she countered. "At least with Astoria, it's not the most terrible situation. She's nice, she's friendly, and she doesn't seem like the type who'll make you miserable. Maybe if you give her a chance, you'll find that being married to her isn't so bad."

Smirking, he pulled his feet onto the couch and poked his toes at her bare leg. "You're not supposed to be encouraging this," he reminded her.

Hermione shrugged and picked up her breakfast bowl. "I'm trying to be supportive," she replied. "I don't want you to get married. I like things just as they are, and I want them to stay that way. If that makes me selfish, then that's too bad."

"It's not selfish," he assured her. "I'm not a big fan of change either. What are the chances my parents come to their senses, and don't force me to go through with it?"

Hermione frowned. "Slim, Draco," she replied. "Very, very slim."