Draco Malfoy lounged lazily on the black leather sofa in the Slytherin Common Room with his eyes closed. He had Quidditch practice in a little while and he dreaded going but he was Team Captain so he couldn't very well blow it off. Of course he could, he was Draco Malfoy and could do pretty much whatever he wanted, still, he wanted to win and that unfortunately required practicing. Honestly a long soak in the Prefect's bathroom so he could relax and unwind sounded much better than dealing with his teammates. As it stood, they had a match against Ravenclaw this weekend and they couldn't afford not to practice. Especially if they wanted to beat Gryffindor for the Quidditch House Cup, and he was determined to beat them.

He had about twenty minutes to relax and then maybe he'd feel like going over strategies with the team. He went up to his room and sitting on the windowsill was a large, black, eagle owl, one of his father's no doubt. His father... more like his warden, or owner. Draco Malfoy really didn't have a father and never had. Sure, Lucius Malfoy had contributed DNA and of course provided for him financially but that was as far as it went. Draco shook his head, still unable to believe that his father had managed to lie and bribe his way out of Azkaban last year. He'd been hoping that he would be stuck there for a long time. Eternity would have made him very happy, but then Malfoy's didn't do well inside cages. That was probably why Draco was so miserable. While he wasn't in a physical cage made out of steel, he was trapped by his father's plans and expectations and he hated it and resented it.

He went over to the owl and took the roll of parchment that had been tied to its leg. He broke the seal that had been stamped in black wax with the Malfoy signet and began reading his father's neat, precise handwriting.

Draco, I have wonderful news for you. I've secured a pet for you, something I'm sure you'll enjoy. I fear it might have to be trained. No matter, I'm sure it will be no problem for you. It's not final yet but I'm sure you will be rather pleased. I know I am.

Draco rolled his eyes, he hated how his father was so obscure in his letters. He had a feeling that he was going to give him a new litter of hunting dogs. His father loved to hunt and had one of the finest hunting dog packs in all of England. He'd been breeding dogs for some time. Draco smiled, his father didn't give those dogs to just anyone. It made him feel an odd sense of worthiness.

Draco flung himself back on the bed and sighed. Thoughts of graduation floated through his head bringing with them more unpleasant thoughts. For one he'd have to go through with the Death Eater ceremony. He suppressed a shiver at the very thought of it. He wasn't afraid of many things but meeting the Dark Lord, having his mark branded onto his skin sometimes gave him nightmares. That was his problem. He thought too much, now if he were like Crabbe and Goyle with barely a coherent thought between the two, his life would be much easier. But life was never meant to be easy, not for him, he had a legacy to live up to.

One of these days he'd get the courage to stand up to his father, to live his own life, but that day seemed very far away in his mind. He hated the fact that his father could control him like a puppet, pulling at his strings whenever he saw fit. Draco wanted to be able to make his own choices but when you were the Malfoy heir choices were few and far between. He contented himself with the fact that his father couldn't live forever and one day he would be able to make his own decisions without the thought of his father's anger hovering like a dark cloud over him.

One day.

Draco banished those thoughts from his mind and wondered where Pansy was. If there was one thing she was good for it was being a distraction. Kissing her gave him something concrete to focus on, a tangible way for him to center his thoughts on something else. He was well aware of the fact that he was using her, but she was using him as well. As far as he was concerned they had a win-win relationship.

For as long as he could remember it had been an unspoken agreement that they'd end up together, it just seemed like the natural flow of things. Their fathers were friends, the two of them got along for the most part, and they were cut from the same cloth. She wanted power and he gave it to her, he wanted to make his father proud and she helped him to do that.

A month ago everything had changed. The new marriage law made it so that in essence it was illegal for him to marry her, at least anytime soon. He had to marry and impregnate a Mudblood, or let three years pass. She was also in the same situation so whatever plans he had made, or intended to make, as far as their relationship was concerned had been put on hold indefinitely.

Not that he really cared. His father would find someone suitable. Some Mudblood that wouldn't be too bad to look at, not too bad to sleep with, and as far as he was concerned he would do his duty and nine months later he'd be a free man, the Ministry would have their clean-blood child, and he could get on with things.

His mind wandered to a darker outcome. If Voldemort rose to power, and soon, there wouldn't be any Mudbloods to marry. His mind didn't fully wrap around that concept, because he didn't want it to. Death was something that he removed himself from. He knew what Death Eaters did, and would do, but his mind had to separate that. Separate the death from who his father was, separate the death from what he would one day become.

Before he realized it twenty minutes had passed and he had to make his way to the Pitch. He changed into his practice outfit and then headed outside, casting a warming spell around himself and hoping that the snow would hold off until practice was finished.

Weeks passed and Hermione waited, anxiously looking through the Prophet, expecting that any day now something would change, but nothing did. There were furious debates, and angry letters to the Ministry but the law stayed intact. Wizards like Dumbledore, Stamford Jorkins, Gawain Robards, several Hogwarts Professors and other well-known and respected people had gone before the Ministry with petitions and the like but none of them had made a difference.

Hermione went on with her day to day routine, pushing it out of her head. From what she had read, students were exempt from the law until graduation, and that was still almost five months away. She did have a backup plan, or rather, Ron, had a backup plan. As far as she was concerned if it had to happen, it would happen with Ron, or Neville, or at least someone she liked. That took a great weight off of her shoulders. However, there was still time for something to change and she prayed that it would.

Near the end of February, Hermione was sitting in Transfiguration. When the change arrived.

They had just begun learning human transfiguration and it was harder than Hermione had anticipated. She had been doing rather well. All of her hard work and concentration had completely drained her energy so she was very much looking forward to the end of class. She was going to take a much needed nap as she could already feel the beginnings of a migraine.

After Professor McGonagall had helped Neville Longbottom, who had transfigured his head into an apple, transfigure it back, she dismissed the class. Hermione was nearly out the door Professor McGonagall called her back.

She walked over to her desk figuring it had something to do with her duties as head girl. Hermione, the head boy, and the professors had been planning the graduation ceremony for the Seventh years. True, it was still more than a few months away but Hermione was going to make sure no one in her class would forget it. She had some wonderful ideas she wanted to share with McGonagall before the next meeting. Most of it was up in her room in a very well organized folder containing everything from a list of food, decorations, seating chart, schedule, speeches, everything. When Hermione Granger was given a task she jumped in feet first. She was just about to start outlining her ideas when McGonagall interrupted her.

"Miss Granger, the Head Master would like to see you in his office. The password is canary crème," said the stern faced Gryffindor Head of House. Hermione looked at her perplexed. Dumbledore wanted to see her? She supposed that wasn't so odd. She had been summoned to his office a handful of times already this year for various Head Girl duties.

"Oh, all right then. Do you think I could come to your office afterward? I've been working on a few things and I'd like your input." She could nap later, if she wasn't mistaken she had a potion to clear up her headache in her bags somewhere. Besides, she had a minimal amount of homework for the evening and she could get it all tucked away and head to bed early, after she made her rounds in the hallway, quickly checked over Ron and Harry's work, gathered the library books she had to return in the morning, and made sure that her report for Arithmancy was perfect of course.

She was also in the middle of reading several books in preparation for her NEWTS but there was always the weekend. She missed her time turner. There were never enough hours in the day.

"Of course, you may. I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you also," said McGonagall looking up at the young witch with a rare smile. Hermione returned the smile and then left the classroom, her books tucked safely under her arm.

Hermione walked through the halls of Hogwarts and to the gargoyle statue that held the entrance to the Head Master's office. She said the password and stepped onto the stairs as they slowly began to rise. She was rather excited to see Dumbledore. They always had intelligent and engaging conversations. He actually took into consideration her opinions and treated her like an equal. She had a great fondness for him.

Hermione entered the office and almost immediately she got an odd feeling in her stomach. He greeted her from his desk with a solemn demeanor hiding the usual jovial features. He bid her sit and she strangely wondered why he didn't offer her a piece of candy.

She always got candy.

Chastising herself for being irrational she took a seat. Try as she might to push it away the cold hand of fear began to clench at her heart. Something was wrong. She began to fear the worse, what if Voldemort had taken her parents... or killed them. She told herself to stop letting her mind run away with itself. For all she knew it was something minor. Maybe he wanted to know how Harry was doing, or about her studies. The look on his face told her that it was much more than that. He looked grave, and he looked old.

He handed her a rolled up piece of parchment and she took it with trembling hands.

"This came for you an hour ago, I thought it prudent that you receive it at once." That voice. It was devoid of humor. It was devoid of everything. He was talking to her as if he didn't know her. Hermione broke the seal, the Ministry seal, and prepared herself for the worse and when she read the first line she let out a sigh of relief and then a gasp of horror.

Her eyes traveled over the first sentence over and over again, waiting for the words to change telling her that she was imagining all of this. She found herself reading it out loud.

"'I, Lucius Alejandreo Malfoy, hereby petition on behalf of my first born son and heir Draco Salzarius Malfoy, for the marriage of Hermione Jean Granger to aforementioned first born son and heir Draco Salzarius Malfoy.'"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak but Hermione held up a hand stopping him. She needed a second to think, to process what was happening. Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears and she couldn't breathe and her brain was refusing to catch up to what was happening around her. It felt like she was trapped and she could feel herself gasping for air but it felt like there were invisible hands wrapped around her throat. 'Breathe Hermione. Don't do this. Don't do this. Just calm down,' she mentally repeated to herself over and over again. Finally she could breathe without feeling like there was something sitting on her chest. Her whole body was tingling with, shock? Fear? She didn't know.

"I – I don't understand," she finally said helplessly.

"Lucius Malfoy wants you to marry Draco."

Hearing those words coming from someone else's mouth seemed absurdly funny. This had to be some sort of prank. She and Malfoy? She a Malfoy? Never. It wasn't going to happen. This was a mistake. A huge, horrible, silly mistake.

"But he hates me. I - this can't be happening," she said running her fingers through her bushy hair. She looked at him helplessly for some sort of confirmation that this was indeed a mistake but the graveness in his eyes gave her no comfort.

"I'm afraid it is all too real, Miss Granger."

She turned to him and he looked as old and weary as she felt and then it dawned on her.

"But I'm still a student. Wasn't there some sort of clause protecting students? Isn't this invalid? I can't be entered into a binding marriage contract." The bright light of hope and triumph flooded through her, this was all a silly mistake...

"There is a sort of protection for students. The legal terminology used in the decree states that the persons entering into the contract must be 18 years of age, or have graduated. You turned 18 last September and are of legal age to enter into a contract. I was under the mistaken assumption that everyone would have the decency to wait until the students have graduated. I should have realized that something like this would happen and done something to have prevented it. For that I am truly sorry Miss Granger."

"No, no, that isn't right. This is wrong." She took a moment to get her emotions under control, she felt like she was losing herself.

"What are my options?" she asked quietly.

"Short of marrying Mr. Malfoy? You can decline the proposal and go to the Ministry to have the proposal made null and void. If they rule in the Malfoy's favor and you still refuse, then you would then have to turn in your wand to the Ministry of Magic, undergo memory altering charms and lead a normal, muggle, life." A normal muggle life? Give all of this up? Her friends? Her studies? The years and years of knowledge that she had painstakingly pushed into her head? The late nights studying, the hundreds of tests and assignments all for bloody nothing?

"Then I'll go the Ministry and get this taken care of." Simple as that, sigh of relief, everything would be alright. She'd had the scare of her life and now it was over.

"I'm afraid that might not be the answer. As you know Lucius Malfoy used his connections to get out of Azkaban. He has been cleared of nearly all charges. I'm afraid he will use tactics such as blackmail and bribery to get a judgment in his favor. I also worry about Umbridge's influence in this situation as well."

Hermione sat there for a moment feeling like she was being punished for being Harry's friend. "There's nothing you can do?" This was Dumbledore, the greatest wizard that had ever lived, surely he could help her.

He sighed heavily, "If only it were in my power. I've appealed to the Ministry numerous times about this farce of a law and I will personally visit the Ministry myself on your behalf and ask them to reconsider your case, but as it stands I feel just as powerless as you, my dear." The look on his face made her want to cry. She felt like she had just got a death sentence. It was Malfoy.

This was a death sentence.

"I-I think I would like to go to my room, think this over." Think it over? What was there to think over? What did she want more? To be a witch or to get out of marrying someone she hated? Surprisingly the answer was easy and it made her angry. It made her angry that a world that meant everything to her could betray her like this.

"Of course. Would you like me to send for Misters Potter and Weasley?" Dumbledore asked as he got up and led her to the door.

"No, thank you," she said calmly. She felt strangely empty now, as if she was watching herself on a television screen. It didn't feel real. It couldn't be real.

Hermione walked into her room she was privileged to have all to herself as Head Girl. She sat down in the chair in front of her neat and orderly desk. It was a large desk. There were several neat stacks of papers organized by which classes or projects they were for. She had three quills sitting in a nice neat row and several books stacked in a pile in the corner. She unrolled the parchment that Dumbledore had given her, laid it out before her, and calmly began reading. She got to the terms of the marriage contract and began reading them aloud as if it were nothing more than a mildly interesting essay that had nothing at all to do with her.

"The petitioned party has twenty four hours to accept or deny the petitioners request… Well, that's not nearly enough time to make an educated decision," she said to herself.

"'The official marriage ceremony will take place a week after the contract has been signed by both parties." A hysterical giggle left her lips at the thought of her Professors calling her Mrs. Malfoy.

She read through the rest of them. The marriage had to be consummated on the wedding night. After graduation she had to live at Malfoy Manor or on Malfoy property. She had to share her husband's room... just the thought of that made her stomach lurch.

She got to the last line:

"If one or more children have been produced from the union the parties may petition for an annulment of the marriage contract. If a span of three years have passed and no children have resulted from the union this contract becomes void."

Hermione stood up... and laughed. The next three years of her life were planned out nice and neat on this piece of parchment. No one had asked her. No one cared about what she wanted. The laughter soon turned into angry tears and then something inside of her snapped.

Hermione Granger broke.

Rage so fierce it scared her, coursed through her body. She was so angry. She started to panic. She had to make this feeling go away. She quickly went through the list of all of the things that made her feel better. Reading, writing, talking to Ron and Harry.

None of mattered.

Nothing would save her.

Hermione stood up and grabbed the first thing that she felt. She picked up her chair and flung it across the room where it hit the wall with a thump. She grabbed the blankets off her bed and tossed them on the floor wanting nothing more than to rip them to pieces. She took a bottle of ink from her bedside table and threw it on the floor and watched as the black liquid seeped into the red carpet. Hermione opened her desk drawers intent on destroying everything. She hadn't worked for seven years, seven years, to become Malfoy's breeding mare. More vials of ink flew through the air shattering when they hit the walls or the floor. She grabbed a fist full of blank parchment and tore it to pieces, crumpling it and throwing it. Her quills were next, she snapped them in half and let them fall to floor. A lamp was thrown to the floor in a symphony of broken glass. A well aimed transfiguration book flew through the window breaking more glass and she sent more books soaring outside.

Her bureau was next, she tossed her school uniforms on the floor behind her not caring if they were stained with ink.

She heard a small voice in her head asking her what in the world she was doing but all that she could answer back was that she had to get it out. It, whatever it was, terrified her, consumed her, and overwhelmed her. In those moments, Hermione Granger, the Smart One, ceased to exist.

Her hands grasped a thick pile of parchment, all of her research and formulas for her seventh year potions project. She'd started it before the school year had even started. Nearly seven months of hard work. Late nights crouched over her desk... What did it matter? She didn't care anymore. She walked to the window and tossed them outside. A piece of glass pierced her skin but she paid it no mind as she watched the parchment float to the ground. She walked to the middle of her room. She wanted to scream until she woke up from this nightmare. Someone knocked on her door and she grabbed her wand and cast a locking charm on her door. She just wanted to be alone until she stopped feeling this. She sat down on the floor and cried and after a while she felt empty, Hermione but not Hermione, something different. Her whole life was falling apart around her. There was no order, no control, no facts that she could spout off to help, no knowledge that she had to fix this. If she didn't have those things then what did she have?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.