Hey loves! Shorter chapter this time. More of a filler/explanation chapter than anything. Chapter three will get us into the humor and meat of the story. Thank you all for your reviews, favorites, and follows. Each time I get that notification, I get the drive to write! So thank you so much!
This chapter was a little harder to bang out, only because I got stuck on a particular review. Sakura Lisel brought up a good point. Ordinarily we would expect a huge fight from Hermione against this type of law. I agree, but for the purposes of this story and the plot I have in mind, that's not how it is going to go. Of course, she absolutely detests it, and Draco. But, she's selfless. If she thinks that by pretending to be happy with Draco will help the magical world, then she is going to do it.
So, thank you Sakura! You really made me think a lot deeper into Hermione's character and how I wanted this story to develop. I'm looking forward to seeing where it will go!
I hope you enjoy!
"Oh, Granger. It's you." Malfoy smirked, leaning against the door frame. "How convenient."
"You do know the purpose of a knock is to ask for entrance, right, Malfoy? You don't just knock and open the door. I could have been indecent." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.
Draco gave her the once over, taking in her muggle jeans and simple white t-shirt. Her hair was tossed in a loose bun on top of her head, and she looked as if she may have been crying at some point.
"This is decent?" His eyes lingered, giving her a disgusted look.
Hermione only glared in response. Prat.
"You left the Great Hall in a rush today. Something upset you?" His ever-present smirk gracing his features. He had been meaning to take a shower and was only trying to warn his suitemate that the bathroom would be occupied. It just so happened that the fates aligned, and Granger shared the adjoining room.
Hermione rolled her eyes, trying not to take his bait. It had been a long day though, and her patience was thin.
"I'm upset that the Ministry has taken my life and turned it into a headline for their profit." Hermione seethed, she could feel the anger rising in her all over again, causing her eyes to glisten. She absolutely refused to cry in front of him.
"We weren't matched because we're meant for each other. Kingsley just wants to show the world that if you and I, of all people, could find happiness together . . . then there is hope for everyone else." She was so tired of giving everything of herself for the sake of others. In truth, she was utterly exhausted. This was supposed to be the one normal year of schooling she would have, and already that had been taken from her.
Draco was confused at her admission. Why would Kingsley assume they would find happiness together if they weren't actually meant to be matched? He shifted his weight against the door, his eyes still assessing the brunette in front of him.
"Why would Shacklebolt think we would be happy? And what the fuck does this have to do with the rest of the world?" She seemed to know something he didn't, and he hated to be left out. Especially when the information involved him.
Hermione took a seat on the edge of her bed, running a tired hand over her face.
"Before term, Harry, Ron, and I were called into the Minister's office. We were told about this new law and were asked to be the "face of prosperity," per say." Hermione looked up to gauge his reaction; he was stoic. "We were told there would be press conferences where we would express our happiness and support. He figured if we were on board, there would be less hostility about the law."
"And you agreed to this rubbish? Without considering the fact that you were signing someone else up for it as well?" Draco's voice raised, stepping away from the door frame and into her room. Well damn, it sounded selfish when he put it that way.
"Yes, because I trusted Kingsley when he said we would be matched with our soulmate. I assumed it wouldn't be too hard to be happy." Hermione watched him warily as he moved into her room. She found comfort in the wand tucked safely into her jean's pocket.
"For the brightest witch of our age, you're pretty fucking dim." Draco moved to look out her window. Her view of the quidditch field was better than his, he thought sourly. "You honestly thought he wasn't going to take advantage of this whole thing?"
"No. I didn't. Forgive me for not believing everyone has a secret vendetta." Not all of us were raised by death eaters, she wanted to add.
"I'm not going to marry you." Hermione said, after a moment of bitter silence between the pair.
Draco scoffed, pushing away from the window and heading back towards the bathroom.
"I didn't ask you to, Mudblood." The door slammed closed behind his retreating figure.
By the next morning, news had already spread about who had been matched. Most couples seemed to be faring well, which gave Hermione a small shred of hope. Although she wouldn't find happiness from this law, it was nice to see that some were. Her glee was short lived.
"Your fucking minister has already told the world about us." Malfoy seethed, shoving his copy of the prophet in front of her.
It was true, there on the front cover were two pictures and a dastardly title. On the left, a picture of Hermione just after the war. On the right, a photo from Draco's sentencing in front of the Wizengamot. The headline read: Golden Girl Hermione Granger to Marry Draco Malfoy, Ex-Death Eater.
Hermione didn't have to read the article to know what it was going to say. She pushed it back towards him. Her appetite had vanished again, for the second morning in a row.
"I figured this would happen." She said simply, "I've already sent a letter to Kingsley." She looked around them, taking note of how many people seemed to be eyeing the pair. She had agreed to be the face of this law and having a public spat with her match wasn't going to help anyone.
Draco followed her eyes, sending a sneer at a particular second year who seemed to be edging closer to eavesdrop.
"We should talk in private." Draco said, standing straight up from leaning over the table. Hermione only nodded, grabbing her school bag and leading him out of the Great Hall. Being alone with Draco was the last thing she wanted, but prying eyes left her no choice.
Draco pulled the witch into a small alcove outside of the Great Hall, hidden to passers-by in the shadows of a curtain.
"Let go of me." Hermione demanded, her voice hushed.
Draco looked down to the hand he had wrapped around her wrist, dropping it quickly before shoving his hands in his pockets.
"So, what's the plan here, sweetheart? We play the part of a happy couple while trying not to kill each other?" Draco had intended to be sarcastic, but Hermione's following pause answered his question.
"Don't call me that." Hermione grimaced., "I think we need to get ahead of this. If the prophet wants to write about us, the story should at least come from our mouths." It wasn't a bad idea, really. Everything was only hearsay until they had publicly spoken.
"What is there to fucking say? It's a law tying us to each other. Every damn person is going through this." Draco argued, baffled by the idea. It wasn't as if their relationship had been a secret and was just revealed to the world.
"I know this is absolute insanity, Malfoy." Hermione threw her hands up, accidentally hitting the maroon curtain they were currently hiding behind. "But, what if we just pretended? We lie and say we've been together for a while, and this marriage law just proves to us that we were. . . meant to be." She struggled getting those last words out.
"Were you dropped on your head, Granger?" Malfoy scoffed, "Why would I go along with this? What's in it for me?"
Hermione knew Draco would only agree to this if it were to benefit himself. She thought carefully before speaking.
"Malfoy, we've just come from a war where you and your family fought for the dark side."
"We deflected." He interrupted, irritated by her rehashing the past.
"Your actions still caused your family to be blacklisted in society. Your father was executed for his crimes; you and your mother were only pardoned on behalf of mine and Harry's testimonies. Still, you were under house arrest with only the exception of returning to school." Draco looked away, his attention turning towards the window outside.
"Going along with this could bring the Malfoy name back into good graces. I can only imagine the business your family lost after the war. Your connection to me would help you." Hermione finished, feeling a bit odd about having to sell herself. She didn't like being viewed as a commodity, or as someone to be used for climbing the social ladder. But, she figured it would speak to Draco's needs. Still, he was silent.
"Are you listening to me?"
"I'm listening to you, I'm just not paying attention." Draco drawled, moving his eyes from the window back to the witch in front of him.
Sweet merlin she wanted to hex him.
"Why is it that you want to go along with this? It's a fucking stupid idea and there's no reason for it. Sure, you make some points about it helping my family. But what about you? What are you getting out of this?" He asked, after seeing her hand twitch for her wand at his previous reply. He'd seen what that witch could do with it, and he wasn't currently looking to be at the receiving end.
What was she getting out of this? Nothing, really. Except a headache and bad press. She wanted to help, though. She was sure there were many people in shoes just like hers, being forced to marry someone that hadn't particularly liked or even knew. Maybe if those people saw her making the best of this situation, they would follow her example.
"I want to help. I've spent the last seven years fighting for acceptance and peace. Now that we have it, I want to help keep it. If that means I have to smile to the public and act like I like you, then I'll do it. If it brings someone comfort during this time, then my misery will be worth it."
"Ever the heroine, aren't you, Granger?" Draco rolled his eyes.
"Better than being the Death Eater." She retorted.
All mirth from Draco's face vanished as she called him that, and he took a step closer to her. His frame was much larger than her own, standing a good six inches above her head. Hermione looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he invaded her space.
"I'm going to say this once to you, Granger. Call me that again, and I'll show you exactly what a death eater does." His grey eyes were hard, piercing her with his gaze. It felt like the oxygen had been sucked from their tiny alcove.
Hermione placed a hand against his chest, pushing him away from her.
"I'm not scared of you."
"Then you're an idiot." He whispered, the menacing look hadn't left his eyes. Hermione watched as he took a deep breath, trying to regain control of himself. His fuse was still as short as ever, it seemed.
Hermione could hear people start to walk past their alcove, heading to their respective classes. Their bubble of privacy suddenly burst with the voices of anxious students. Hermione had almost forgotten there was life outside of where the two of them were hidden.
"I've got to get to class, Malfoy." Hermione said, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. She refused to be late to her first day of classes, especially because of him.
She left him alone in the alcove, walking away without an answer to her question. Would he pretend to love her?
Her third class of the day was Ancient Runes, one of her favorites. It also happened to be the first time she had seen Draco since their discussion that morning. He still looked as disgruntled as before when he took a seat behind her.
She ignored his presence as the lecture began, taking notes dutifully as they transcribed ancient runes.
"Granger." She heard the whisper behind her, before a note floated over her shoulder. She looked up at the professor before opening it.
I'll do it.