Disclaimer: I don't own nada.

Chapter Two

Unanswered Questions

Blaise Zabini spoke first. "Piss off, Granger," he growled, his foot attempting to slide the door shut, but she resisted his attempt by blocking him. He made a move as if to stand up, but Pansy put a hand firmly on his tensed arm and pushed him back down. "I'll do it," she whispered firmly, standing up.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What the hell do you want, Mudblood?" Pansy asked, drawing the offending word out as if she were stretching a piece of string, long and thin. Her long blonde hair framed her face, highlighting angular cheekbones sharp as chisels. She looked furious. Crabbe and Goyle smirked behind her, mouthing mudblood to each other and laughing as if she was unaware of their juvenile behaviour.

"I said," Pansy began again when Hermione hadn't answered, her voice low and sinister as she advanced on the slightly shorter girl, "what the hell do you want? Or do you just enjoy butting your nose in where it doesn't belong? I'd watch out, boys," she sneered, "I think she might fancy you all. Stupid bitch should be stuck in a pile of horse dung, but sadly life isn't fair, is it?"

Knowing that Pansy Parkinson wasn't worth the light of day, Hermione didn't find it hard to ignore her snide comments. She turned to Malfoy who was slumped silently in his seat by the window, his feet propped up on the one opposite. He looked completely bored and was staring out at the station. Her eyes did not miss the badge gleaming against his chest. "I need to speak with you," she called over to him somewhat impatiently. It was a simple enough request.

Pansy started laughing hysterically, and Blaise was looking at her as if she were mad.

"Now that is just hilarious. Why on earth would he want to speak with the likes of you, you frizzy haired bitch?" Another shriek of laughter followed the first, but it didn't reach Pansy's eyes. They were cold, watching her with a deep loathing.

Hermione began to feel uncomfortable in the firing range of their hostility, but she'd been waiting two weeks for an opportunity to get some answers, and this was as good as any. "I need to speak with you, Malfoy" she repeated over her shoulder as she stepped outside the compartment, her voice firm. "Now."

Ignoring the impersonation Pansy was now doing of her (hand waving frantically in the air, teeth over curled lip, bouncing on the balls of her toes) to the sounds of enjoyment of the others, she strode off down the train towards the compartment reserved for the Head Boy and Girl. Hermione did not wait to see if he would follow. She hoped that she was right in thinking he would.

The train shuddered to life as she walked, pulling out of the station. Steam twisted and curled outside the window, forming pretty shapes she didn't have time to admire. Some students she knew muttered hello or greeted her as she passed them and she smiled politely in response but didn't stop.

Without warning she felt a hand clamp tightly around her arm, as another slammed into her back. A scream of protest caught in her throat and wavered as she was shoved roughly into the nearest compartment, obviously this couldn't wait until they had reached the Heads compartment. Inside sat four first years who had been talking timidly to each other. Their chatter stopped abruptly when they caught sight of the Head Boy's face contorted in anger.

"Get out." He didn't have to say it twice, once was more than enough. For a moment they looked too scared to move, then they caught sight of his hand on her arm and he dug it in deeper. One squealed as they shot up and hurried out into the corridor, not looking back. Draco kicked the door and it smashed shut angrily behind them. Hermione winced as he threw her unceremoniously into a seat and turned his back to her, muttering a silencing spell under his breath. She was about to protest but she couldn't think what to say. She'd never seen him look so angry before.

A deep throbbing began to pulse through her arm. She rubbed it gingerly, but her eyes remain fixed on him.

"You stupid, stupid...!" He hissed, spinning around and coming inches within her face. His hands were either side of her on her arms, pinning her against the seat. "What on earth were you thinking?" he demanded.

"Now hang-" she started to say as she tried to struggle out of his grip.

But he wasn't listening. "Don't you ever, ever do that again, do you understand? Do you want to draw attention to yourself?" he raged, anger rising and bubbling from his lips with each breath.

She grimaced. "I-" her arms were starting to burn under his fingertips.

"If anyone finds out-"

She whimpered as he dug his fingers in deeper, still struggling to try and shake him off. It was useless; he was much bigger and stronger than she was. "They won't!" she managed to force out, her throat dry. "Get off, you're hurting me!" It scared her seeing him like this, knowing that he was capable of anything. No one knew that they were in this compartment, no one would hear her scream.

His eyes flickered and there was a brief second or two when all the anger seemed to vanish like smoke. But then it passed and Hermione was sure she had been imagining it. He let go quickly and stepped back, wiping his hands on his cloak as if she were contaminated with some sort of disease, before falling wearily into the seat opposite. Hermione had been offended too many times by his behaviour in the past that she didn't even think to mention it this time. She'd angered him enough by the looks of things.

"Apologise."

She nearly choked with shock. "Excuse me?"

"Apologise."

Hermione sighed in agitation, her heart beginning to race. "I most certainly will not! If anybody should be saying sorry, it's you."

"Well, you deserved it," he sneered. Hermione was horrified.

"Did I? Just as much as I deserved the honour of being married to you?" she shook her head in disbelief. "Is it supposed to be some sort of privilege for being made Head Girl that this has happened, or just an added bonus because I'm muggleborn and have defeated the odds at being the smartest witch in our year?" She took a deep breath, scuffing her shoe on the floor. "I wouldn't know of course," she added quietly to herself. "Because no one will give me the slightest clue as to what is going on here."

He didn't say anything, just sat there with the same bored expression he'd worn on his face earlier as he stared out of the window. She took the opportunity to study him properly. It was funny, after six years she still only saw him as the small pointed boy with slicked back at hair and a sneering expression permanently tattooed on his face. Now he was quite different, standing almost as tall as Ron she imagined, with broad shoulders and strong arms. His platinum blonde hair was slightly darker at the roots and he no longer wore the hair gel he favoured as a child, giving it an appealing soft messy look.

She wanted to laugh hysterically at the idea that she was on her way for her final year at Hogwarts, that almost everything had gone according to plan and yet here she was on the train sat opposite her husband, who was Draco Malfoy of all people, and she was thinking about how soft his hair looked. And that wasn't even the most ludicrous part! No, the funniest thing about the whole unrealistic situation was that she had been married to him with no suitable explanation of why at all, not one tiny reason that would satisfy her curiosity. It might as well have been a homework assignment for all she knew; after all, she had done as Hermione Granger always did; followed the instructions right down to the crossed t's and dotted i's perfectly. There had never been a downside before now, and the one time there was, she ended up married to the enemy. Perfect.

Eventually Draco stirred from whatever it was that was consuming his thoughts, rubbing his forehead briskly. "What did you want then?" he asked gruffly.

Hermione sat up almost excitedly. "I want you to tell me why I had to marry you." She was on the edge of her seat now. "And I want to know why I'm not allowed to know."

Draco scoffed but wouldn't look at her. He had reached into his pocket and Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat thinking he was about to pull out his wand and hex her.

He opened his hand and a golden snitch hovered above him for a few seconds before he snatched it back. She watched him do it several times before she got annoyed. "Whenever you're ready of course, I'd hate to rush you."

"Granger for once in your life can you just keep your trap shut?" he barked. "I know it must be hard for you, what with your verbal diarrhoea and constant need to bombard everyone with your whiny, bossy voice, but it pisses me off and I would prefer it if you said nothing at all." He paused as he missed the golden snitch and it floated over above her head. "I can imagine that the curiosity is probably killing you, and while I would love to watch you suffer right here in this very compartment I'd prefer it if you just kept silent.

"Do you even know the reason?" Hermione asked heatedly, growing tired of his torrent of abuse.

He threw his head back and laughed. It was a dry, cold laugh. "Gosh, Granger, how far off the mark can you get? And you call yourself intelligent? Do you seriously think for one second that I would chose to marry you without a reason? Look at you!"

That jibe stung more than any of the others for some reason, maybe some deep insecurity inside of her that had nothing to do with books and cleverness. But she couldn't let him see that he was getting to her. So she decided to ask again.

"So you know why," she snapped, strength flooding her as her anger pulsated through her veins. The snitch had become tangled in her hair; she yanked it out and threw it at him. "So tell me. Why did Draco Malfoy have to marry the Mudblood he despises more than anything? What was so important that she was pleaded with to go through with it?"

"Have to marry you, honestly Granger, as if-"

"Come off it, that is the only reason you would agree-"

"Really, is that what you think?" he interrupted, his hand clenching around the snitch. "Well well well, a bit full of yourself aren't you? I wouldn't be if I were you, it's highly embarrassing for the rest of us." He was radiating aggression now, clearly in his element. "Didn't that old crackpot tell you anything?" he goaded sarcastically.

"Don't call him that!" Hermione shouted. "You know Dumbledore didn't give me a reason!"

He smirked. "Aren't you supposed to be the cleverest witch in our year?" Sarcasm laced his words. "Really I would have expected better of you. Surely you could have weeded it out of him somehow, after all you are one of the famous 'Golden Trio'."

"Being clever has nothing to do with this! No one will listen to anything I have to say!" she retorted, her voice almost shrilly. Of course he knew it would be impossible to get any information out of Dumbledore, he was just teasing her now, playing with her like some helpless rag doll.

The look in his eye was one of pure happiness, the cat the got the cream. "He told me."

Jealousy overwhelmed her."You know why, so why won't you tell me? Why are you allowed to know what's going on and I'm not? This is not some stupid game we're playing that can be won or lost and then forgotten – marriage is a serious commitment, the contract we signed was more than watertight, it was one of the most complex things I've ever seen. You can't ignore that! You cannot seriously think for one second that it's fair?"

A long silence fell between them, broken only by the fluttering of wings from that infernal snitch he was still playing with. By all appearances it seemed that he hadn't even been listening to a word she had said, he was back to being impassive as ever. Hermione on the other hand was completely frazzled.

"Fine," she muttered, folding her arms and leaning back against the stiff seat. "Fine. This may come as somewhat of a shock to you, but I hate the idea of being married to you, and the abysmal fact that we are, just as much as you do. If not more."

His head snapped back to face her and she found herself much against her will staring into the coldest, most terrible grey eyes she had ever seen. Hermione was almost positive that the hatred burning in them was reserved especially for her. "That is just not possible."

It was a while before he spoke again, but he didn't break his gaze. Hermione wondered what it was he was watching out for, her confusion somewhat magnified and not at all resolved as she had hoped it would have been. Underneath them the train rattled and jumped as it sped along the tracks to Hogwarts, but the thought of them going to school was long forgotten. It was unimportant.

"Now let us get one thing straight, Mudblood," he began a long time later, his voice very small and distant. "The very thought that someone like you," he glanced up at her hair and then she felt his eyes trail down her body, a look of disgust forming across his features, "and I could be married revolts me. It was, up until two weeks ago, unthinkable. I would no sooner have campaigned for your beloved house elf rights than marry you. The fact that we are," he paused, then leant forward across the compartment until his face was inches from her own, his breath mingling with her own, "well, lets just say it takes all of my impressive self control not to hex you into oblivion so that I never have to look at your face again."

Her eyes widened in shock and the colour drained from her face, but he ploughed on as if he hadn't noticed, or didn't care.

"In fact, if it weren't for that ring on your finger," he whispered, glancing at her hand, "I would have probably killed you already, and gladly suffered the consequences of my actions. Azkaban is particularly appealing to me at this moment. So this may come as a shock to you," he said, reiterating her words, "but the truth of the matter is, I despise our binding much more than you ever could think possible, and that," he finished, "is final."

He leant back in his seat casually, staring out of the window at the fields and trees flying past, his hands playing with the golden snitch once again. The sun was obscured by threatening rain clouds overhead, a good reflection of the sombre mood.

Hermione felt as if she had been slapped, and once again tears were stinging at her eyes. For someone who rarely cried, least of all in public, she had done an awful lot recently. Well, she'd be damned before she'd delight Draco Malfoy in watching her suffer any more. She wiped them away hastily, the ring catching her attention once again. She would have sworn that it was enchanted the way that it did that.

It was incredibly beautiful, even she could admit that. A white gold band, embedded with tiny diamonds and three sapphires that glittered as the light fell on it. She dared to think how much it was worth. She thought back to the night that all of this had started to the moment when she had signed her name on that parchment. She hadn't even noticed at first how the ring had suddenly appeared on her hand, magical of course.

"It was my grandmothers."

She looked up but he was still staring out of the window, his expression stony. For the first time she noticed an almost identical ring on his left hand that must of appeared as soon as he had signed the magical binding parchment as well. On their wedding night. It still didn't sound true.

"Don't call me that word again." Mudblood. He knew which word she meant. It echoed in her ears.

"I will call you whatever I want to call you. In case you had not noticed, you are a piece of filth."

A gasp escaped Hermione's throat. "Stop it! Stop it now!"

Draco just smirked.

"I hate you." It sounded pathetic to even her own ears.

"Is it impossible for you to keep your overly large mouth shut for more than two minutes?" He sounded annoyed. "Must I have to keep asking you?"

Hermione jumped up from her seat. She'd had enough, there was only so much degrading she could take. "Enough! I've had enough! This isn't going to work, you are impossible! I am going to see Dumbledore right now," she pointed at the door, "and tell him it's no use. Regardless of the fact that I have no idea why I have to be married to you, you are such an insufferable, pompous pig with childish and immature opinions that even if there is a good reason for this...this union," she gagged as she said it, "I am ending it now, because Malfoy you are a-"

The compartment door slid open with a flourish and Hermione's voice failed her.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything." Dumbledore said jovially as he stepped inside the compartment, his midnight blue robes swishing around him, his silver beard tucked into his belt. Professor McGonagall followed hot on his heels, closing the door carefully behind her. "I heard raised voices down the corridor and felt sure I would find my Head Boy and Girl talking animatedly to each other."

Flustered and embarrassed, Hermione stood motionless, her mouth hanging open.

"For goodness sakes Granger, close your mouth. You look like a gaping fish."

"Oh shut up. I thought you'd put a silencing charm up," she said horrified.

"I did."

"Obviously not a very good one. I do hope no one overheard the subject of our discussion."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes, turning to whisper in the Headmaster's ear. "Albus," she said desperately, "I must protest once again that I do not agree-"

Dumbledore held up his hands silencing her words. "There will be time for that later, Minerva. Hermione, why don't you have a seat." He motioned next to Draco ignoring the appalled look she gave him. "Minerva," he said. It was hard to miss the hint of sternness in his voice, but he was still smiling.

McGonagall regarded him for a moment, her face taught. Her attention shifted to Draco before she gave an abrupt nod and sat down opposite them as gracefully as she could, her beady square eyes fixed on the Head Boy suspiciously.

"Now," Dumbledore began as soon as everyone was settled, smiling at each in turn, "before we begin." A wand appeared and he whispered a few words that Hermione took to be some sort of silencing spell. A proper one. She looked pointedly at Malfoy.

"There. I had by chance already taken necessary measures in the Head's Compartment-" his eyes twinkled again and Draco rolled his eyes, "- but I see that you would prefer to discuss matters here." A hand fumbled noisily in one of the overly large pockets of his cloak. Hermione was instantly reminded of Hagrid sat in his hut and she calmed slightly at the thought.

"Sir?" Hermione was perched at the edge of her seat, fiddling with her robes nervously.

"Aha!" Dumbledore exclaimed, pulling out a worn red tin that was very old indeed from his pocket. He pulled the lid off and held the tin out to Hermione. "Ginger nut?"

It was not for the first time that Hermione's trust in him was questioned once again. "Umm...thank you," she replied, tentatively picking one out, not quite sure why she had said yes. It crumbled in her fingers and there was a hint of warmth still clinging to the dough. When everyone had accepted a biscuit (Draco much to Hermione's surprise), Dumbledore replaced the tin in his pocket and popped his biscuit in his mouth.

"Now," he said once he had finished chewing.

"Sir," Hermione could wait no longer, "Professor, I'm very sorry, but I cannot do this." She pointed between Draco and herself, "I don't know why you wanted me to marry him," she continued flustered, her cheeks glowing pink, "and I don't know why Malfoy agreed to marry me either for that matter, but for whatever reason it is, it's not going to work. We can't stand each other."

Dumbledore's cheery expression dissolved and the train rattled and shuddered wilder than even underneath them. She felt Draco stiffen slightly besides her. McGonagall raised an eyebrow quizzically but no emotion was betrayed on her face.

"My dear, I am terribly, terribly sorry," Hermione's heart was pounding so hard in her chest she felt that it would burst out any moment. Dumbledore spoke as if she were about to be told of her impending doom, his voice grave and it did nothing for the way adrenaline was storming through her veins. She felt sick. "The marriage decree that you both signed is wholly binding; that is, for the moment at least, it is irreversible beyond any means."

Hermione wasn't sure that she had heard him correctly. "But people get married all the time and they, they can get divorced can't they, or have their marriages annulled?" She glanced widely at McGonagall, desperation burning the back of her throat. "Can't they?"

The tension grew thicker; the compartment felt half the size. "These are dark, dark times, Hermione. Lord Voldemort - (McGonagall shuddered, Draco coughed but Hermione remained fixed on the elderly wizards every word) - is growing stronger by the day, his followers regrouping and recruiting new members to their ranks. There have been, as I am sure you are aware, numerous attacks on both muggles and magic-folk throughout the summer. It is I fear only the beginning of what will be a very dangerous year for everyone-"

"But what does that have to do with me?" Hermione cried out, jumping up from her seat. Nothing he had said had been new to her. "I know all of that, I know about the killings and the disappearances, it's been all over the news! I want to know what I have to do with this! What does this have to with me marrying him," she jabbed a finger at the blonde haired Slytherin, "why would you ask me to marry someone who despises me more than anyone, anyone else on this planet?"

"Certain events have been set in motion-"

"What events?" Hermione thought out loud.

"-and it is necessary to take certain measures in response to these them. One of these measures," he held up a finger and looked firmly at Hermione who was stood over him, about to say something, "that is absolutely crucial this year is the unification of Hogwarts as a whole. As I have tried to encourage every year, we are only as strong as we are united. This inter-house rivalry that separates us all, particularly between Gryffindor and Slytherin," he looked between the both of them pointedly, his eyes dark and weary, "has long run its course and now is the time to settle the differences that have divided your houses for centuries, lest they damage us further. You two will be highly influential I hope, in making this unification possible."

"Professor that is all fair and well; but that does not explain why we have to be married. You don't want anyone else to find out! Why won't you tell me the truth?" she demanded.

"Miss – Mrs – Hermione!" McGonagall reprimanded, not quite sure what to call the Head Girl, "You will watch your tone when addressing the Headmaster."

But Hermione paid her no attention. She was watching Dumbledore shake his head sadly. "There is a time and a place when it will be right for you to-"

"AND THIS IS IT! I want to know now, I need to know why you have asked this of me," Hermione screamed, no longer caring that she was being rude to her Headmaster or Head of House. "I haven't been able to think of anything else for two weeks! I listened to you as you came to my house that morning, and you asked me to trust you and I did, I did as you asked me to do and the only reason I did so was because I had trust in you! How can you now expect me to just sit here and listen to you when you won't tell me why I had to get married..." A tear dribbled silently down her cheek as she finally gave in to the frustration she felt welling up, "...married to someone who hates me, in secret in the middle of the night, married to someone who I hate...I don't understand..."

Dumbledore sighed. He looked tired. "Hate is too strong a word, Hermione."

Silence engulfed the cabin as darkness began to fall outside, and there was a light rain pattering against the glass. Hermione watched each of them, daring one speak. Draco to her dismay had barely moved at all, his gaze still fixed on the window and the countryside flying past beyond. She imagined he was highly embarrassed by her behaviour.

She turned to him. "Don't you have anything to say about this?" she said bitterly, chewing a fingernail. "Oh, but I'm sure you don't, you already know what's going on don't you. Well, as far as I'm concerned if no one will answer my questions then this marriage is over."

"I will do all that I see fit, Hermione," Dumbledore said firmly, "in order to protect my students. There is more than unity at stake here, you are correct in assuming that, yes."

The anger she felt wasn't subsiding at all. Why was no one else talking, shouting, screaming out loud like she was? Why was everyone acting as if the whole situation was no big deal? "Well what is it? What is so desperate that you force me to do this?" Nothing he had said had calmed her in the slightest the way she hoped it would. "I don't believe this is real, this can't be real...why would the Malfoy's let their precious son marry me? What possible reason is there – this cannot be real, it isn't...did you not just hear me say it was over?" She held her face in her hands, willing herself to wake up from whatever nightmare she had been trapped in. Surprisingly it was Draco who eventually spoke, not Dumbledore.

"Unfortunately, Granger, this is very real. Nothing you say or do will change it." He took a deep breath. "You are, in the eyes of the wizarding law and thus the Ministry of Magic, my wife. We are unrelentingly bound to each other, and there is, as far as I am aware, no way to break this bond." He wouldn't look at her. His eyes fixed on a space on the wall above McGonagall's tight grey bun.

"What does that mean?" Hermione wanted to cry, she wanted her parents to burst in through the compartment door and hug her, tell her none of it was real, to whisk her away and tell her that they were going to fix this mess; that she didn't have to do this. "Does that mean," she croaked, "does that mean we might not be able to get divorced at all?"

No one answered her. All of a sudden none of them wanted to look at her, their heads turned away. Had they expected her to react like this, she wondered, or did they imagine that she would have swallowed all they had said and done everything they asked like the model student she was?

It was then she realised they were never going to answer her questions, not yet at least. She'd been living with a false hope.

"Why is no one saying anything?" she said frustratingly, aiming it at Dumbledore. "You - you tricked me! You as good as forced me to marry him. Well I'm sorry but no." Dumbledore's expression remained nonchalant. "No! I don't care what you say, I'm not doing it. I quit." She pulled on the ring on her finger, but to her dismay it wouldn't budge.

Every heartbeat felt like her gut was being wrenched apart."Why can't I take the ring off?" She pulled on it again, on the verge of crying hysterically, her voice shaking. "It's stuck, and I want it off, I want it off. I can't do this, I'm sorry. It's just too much, please," she begged, "please help me get this ring off."

The sobs were coming quick and fast. Dumbledore stood up to comfort her but she refused to let him near her, her hands pushing him away. How could they get away with this? Why had she agreed in the first place? Nothing made sense anymore. Her fingers continued clawing at the ring, drawing blood on the skin around it. "Please, please, help me get it off!" she begged, turning towards McGonagall.

Minerva watched helplessly, uncomfortable at being addressed in this turmoil. Hermione wanted to curse her for not sticking up for her, for not putting a stop to it.

"I'm afraid it won't come off," Dumbledore said quietly, sympathy amongst his words, "the ring is an incredibly powerful one, and even so, it would not be that simple even if you managed to take it off."

But Hermione couldn't give up. "Professor Dumbledore, I am begging you, please, please don't make me go through with this. I'll do anything, anything else, but this is just too much. How can you-"

"I need you to trust me."

Hermione was defeated and she knew it. Her heart was racing so fast she felt dizzy and disorientated. She turned resignedly to the person she least wanted to face, hating him for being so composed when she was not, wanting him to react, to yell, to do something. He didn't bat an eyelid. She couldn't read his face at all. She wasn't even sure what she wanted him to do.

She shivered, chills crawling along her skin as realization sunk in, and with it quickly followed embarrassment. Hermione could not believe the way that she had spoken in front of them all. She knew she was going to cry and she couldn't do it there in front of them all. She needed to get out.

"I am sorry I raised my voice," she managed to clip out weakly. She was aware of Dumbledore smiling softly as if it were okay, and so badly did she want to feel like she could trust him. But a tiny part of her didn't. And it was that part that had her slam the compartment door open as her resolve finally cracked, that part that forced one foot in front of the next without any idea of where she was heading, thankful that the corridor was deserted at least. The toilet she found herself in was small and cramped, smelling strongly of antiseptic. She locked the door and sank to the floor, never having felt so completely out of control before. A muffled sob escaped her lips and she had to bite a finger to cut it off, she wouldn't cry anymore over this.

The ring glinted in the corner of her vision, mocking her. Hermione Granger was married to Draco Malfoy. She had no more idea now than before of why. And worst of all, there was nothing that she could do to get out of it. If hell did exist, she was pretty much sure that this was it.

*o*

A/N: I hope you like this chapter, I've changed things around a little bit – I don't want to give too much away yet, as I quite like the idea of building up suspense, plus where is the excitement if you throw all of your cards on the table at once? I've changed this chapter a little bit to make Hermione a bit less...weak if that's the right word. Thank you once again to everyone who has reviewed.