31 July, 1999
The day before Draco was to marry Astoria, she summoned him to a seedy club in a warehouse in London. He hadn't seen her since second year when she was a seventh year. She had a reputation of being a bit odd. He really couldn't remember her clearly other than that she had brown hair and was always in Snape's office for some reason. Rumors about her had stopped once she left Hogwarts. She had barely been a wisp of steam rising from his cauldron once she was no longer 'd had larger looming events on his horizon.
He looked about the room, noting the walls that were painted black with bright, offensive words scrawled on them, and the fencing surrounded a raised dais. There were few patrons, and none were obviously magical. He shifted his position to see around a large brick column in the centre of the room, and saw a woman who looked vaguely like the girl he remembered, She waved him over laconically.
She had changed. She was no longer the blandly attractive and moderately sedate pureblood young lady. She had dyed her hair a harsh black that had a sheen of purple when light hit it. It had been cut in an angular and unflattering fashion, made heavy with whatever she used to keep it flat and oily looking. Her makeup looked like it had been painted on, thick and clownishly white, with hard black circles drawn around her eyes, and black lips that made her look more than a little dead. She smoked an atrocious smelling bidi which billowed around both of them in a noxious wave of thick smoke. She was dressed in a pair of black, large-legged trousers and a tight acid-green bandeau that revealed both her meagre cleavage and the bottom of her breasts. A black, studded leather coat was draped between her legs on the chair she occupied. The table at which she sat was filled with disposable cups containing unknown liquids and empty plastic packets that had once contained some type of white powder. She spat on the detritus littered floor as she put the foul cigarillo out on the bottom of her thick-soled boot.
"So, you're the prat my parents sold me to," she said with a downward tilt of her lips."You're as pretty as a girl, I may be able to tolerate this."
Draco inclined his head, a small tight smile on his lips masking his rage at his father. This was the best his dear ipater/i could do to keep the Malfoy line pure, this painted clown? She smirked back at him. "Let's be quick about this. My girl's band's up for the next set and we don't have much time to get things clear between us."
She motioned for him to sit in the chair across from her. He made a show of wiping the seat with his handkerchief and then he sat, smoothing his hands over his own tastefully tailored trousers. A figure bearing a towel, presumably one of the waiters of the establishment, loomed over them. "Two drink minimum. What'll you 'ave?"
"I'll have…," Draco looked at a grimy placard encased in plastic stuck in a rusty piece of metal on the table. None of the brands of ale were familiar. He licked his lips nervously.
"You really are a Pureblood knob," she hissed through clenched teeth before turning to the waiter. "Give him the same horse piss you gave me, put it on my tab, and then sod off, Mick." She slid the packet of bidis from between her breasts. "I'm talking to my posh fiance."
The waiter gave Greengrass an odd, communicating look and then strode to the bar. Draco said, "MIss Greengrass, I know that neither of us want this arrangement."
"You're right about that." She snorted and then leaned forward, her elbows propped on her knees,her features seeming to settle into an expression of resignation. In an instant she seemed transformed from the caricature she appeared to be. Her eyes burnt into his as she added, "But… I just want you to know what you'll be getting with me."
The waiter returned with two cups of pale liquid, sloshing it over the rims of the plastic cup as he plonked them onto the table. Draco reached for the one closest to him, but stopped as Astoria moved to quickly put her hand over the cup's top and brought it to her side of the table. "You don't want to drink that, trust me."
Draco eased back against the chair. He had spent the better part of his life learning to negotiate terms, first from his father, and then from the monster who lived in his home during the war. He could wait for Greengrass to tell him what she wanted from this sham of a marriage.
She pulled a bidi from the packet that she had been toying with idly and slid it into her lips. With a wave of her fingers, the cigarillo sparked to life. Draco coughed theatrically. "Could you not, please?"
"Don't worry, all of this stops tomorrow." She made a fluid motion over her full body as she blew a puff of smoke out of the side of her mouth. She grimaced as she threw the bidi to the floor and smashed it with the toe of her boot. "Tastes like shite anyway."
A woman dressed similarly to Astoria appeared on the stage, carrying an instrument. Greengrass' eyes followed her movements hungrily until the woman left the stage. She turned her attention once again to Draco, her focus intense. "Let's get this over with, Malfoy. I'm only marrying you because of Daphne. I don't want children, and I certainly don't need or want your fortune."
"What has your sister…," Draco began, but she made a slicing motion with her hand, casting a silencing spell on him. He was outraged at her effrontery, but impressed with her skill. Another wave of her hand released the spell. His estimation of her went up another notch. She knew how to show her power and not make it seem as if she was abusing it. She might be a better match for him than her first impression gave.
"Us Greengrass girls are always falling for the wrong type, see." Her gaze slid to the stage again, then back to him. She began picking at a chipped bit of lacquer on her nail. "If I marry you, my sister gets to wait for the new law to go into effect so she can marry a person that is entirely inappropriate in our world, with the added benefit that my parents quit nagging me about my life choices."
"Would those choices have anything to do with the Muggle who so captivated you a few moments ago?"
Greengrass eased back in her seat, her brown eyes sparking with humor. "I always knew you were more than a pretty face, Malfoy."
She began picking at her lacquer again. "Yeah. She has everything to do with it. I'll marry you, give you an heir that I want no claim to. Once the brat is weaned or whatever, I want a divorce. You, your mummy, and your daddy, can turn it into a proper pureblood monster. As an added bonus, I'll fuck off with my Yank girlfriend to America, and you'll never have to see me again. So, do we have a deal?"
She stuck out her hand as if to seal a bargain he hadn't known they were going to make. He half expected her to expectorate in her palm as a Traveller horse dealer would do. Draco took her hand in both of his, "I have a few stipulations before we shake on this."
"You wouldn't be a Malfoy if you didn't." She shrugged. "Go ahead."
"First, you will dress appropriately for someone of our station. I have plans, and those plans don't include trying to explain your oddness to well-placed people."
"I already said this was all gone tomorrow. I meant it," she said with an edge to her tone. "Next?"
"I take it you will wish to continue your… relationship… with the young lady in question?"
"Yeah." Greengrass' eyes narrowed.
"Then my second stipulation is that you will do so discreetly. I won't be embarrassed by your flaunting your paramour in our world."
"As if she'd be welcomed there," she laughed. "Muggle, remember?"
"Right," Draco said, a bit chagrined that he had been so focused on his own agenda he forgot such a major detail. He was rarely flustered these days, but Greengrass did seem to be able to do so with ease. "I will only hold you to your wifely duties until you conceive, and afterwards, I will… not bother you with my attentions."
"Oh, we're not having any kind of sex, Malfoy," Greengrass laughed. "Muggles are ingenious when it comes to conception. We'll go to one of their docs and they'll do the work for both of us."
"Lovely." Draco answered woodenly. "A sexless marriage, just what every man dreams of."
"Oh you can have your piece on the side. I won't be jealous, obviously."
He let go of her hand. "I honor my vows, Greengrass, even if you don't intend to do so."
Her mask of worldly ennui slipped, real pain showing on her features for a fraction of a second. "I didn't mean it like that. I… honestly wish it could be different between us, but I just… I don't think you want to feel like you're raping me everytime you come to my bed, and that's what it would be, Malfoy. I'm not… the war…I just can't again. Not with a man, not ever again."
Draco felt a cold knife of sympathy slice through his own emotional reserve. He'd heard things had happened to those who were different during the war, but hadn't realised the depravity of it. The chill stayed with him as he took her hand again, this time with greater care than he had before. "I accept your deal."
Greengrass' fingers fluttered against his, a delicate, fleeting brush. "I'll accept your conditions too."
The musician returned to the stage, this time with several other women who carted various instruments onto the dais. "I think our time for negotiation is up. I'll see you tomorrow."
He rose as Greengrass did, sketched a small bow and turned to leave. Over the din of tuning instruments he heard her say, "I hope we can at least be friends."
Without turning he answered,"I hope so too."
12 September, 1999
Hermione waited, foot tapping in impatience, as the Ministry Warder Wizard scanned her for curses and dark artefacts. She had just received a letter from the MInistry granting her exemption for the time it took to complete the two year healer apprenticeship. It seemed that Parvati Patil, who had married Justin Finch-Fletchley right after the Ministry's announcement of the first round of matches, was up the duff, and Hermione was the next in line for the coveted position.
She needed to tell Ron about it. The letter made it quite clear, as a gesture of good faith, Hermione would have to be married to accept the extension,. Since she had already quietly accepted Ron's proposal, they would just have to move up their wedding. Of course, that meant they would have to go through the same Molly Weasley Nuptial Torture TM that Harry and Ginny were currently suffering, but so be it. Ronald would be able to finish his Auror training and she would become a Healer, the closest thing she could be in the wizarding world to honour her parents' memories.
Finally, the bored Warder finished his scan of her person, and waved her through with a laconic, "That'll do, Miss."
She slipped through the barrier Ministry between the the floos and the Ministry, installed during the rebuilding of the Ministry,looking about for Ron. She'd messaged him to meet her at the fountain and she wouldn't have to go through all the glad-handing from the members of the DA who had opted to enter Auror training right after the war.
She felt a large, warm arm snake around her waist just as the scent of very male sweat and the sweet, doughy scent that was Ron reached her nose. He whispered in her ear, "Have you got business here, Miss?"
"I do," she laughed, turning around so that she could see his beardless face. "I got the extension."
Ron gave a whoop, and picked her up, spinning her around in a dizzying arc. "I'm so glad for you!"
He let her down as several wizards and witches gave them looks disapprobation, sobering immediately. "So, I reckon that means that we'll have to put off the wedding 'til you're finished, right?"
Hermione eased a hand to her hair, smoothing it down to control the fuzz that she knew Ron's exuberance had caused. "Well, you see… the Ministry stipulates that they want a good faith gesture on my part… so, we will have to marry sooner than we actually planned." She looked up to see his expression, "I hope you don't mind."
Ron took a step backwards, taking her hand as he did. He kept moving as he said, "Do you really want to go through what Gin and Harry are going through? I mean, Mum's so stressed with their wedding plans and George and Angelina's coming up. Then there's Percy, who hasn't found his match yet…"
Hermione stopped, pulling her hand from his. "What are you saying, Ron? Do you want to call it off?"
"Such a big, scary brain, and still no confidence," Ron said, shaking his head. He pulled her to him and leant into her, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. "No, Miss Granger, I'm saying, why don't you become Mrs Granger-Weasley today. Here. The Registry is open until five. I can get Harry and I'm sure Ginny could slip away from Mum for a little while so you could buy those dress robes you've been looking at in Madam Malkin's… it would be over in a minute, and we wouldn't have to put up with all the Wedding of Terror stuff before."
Hermione threw her arms around Ron's neck and gave him a proper kiss. "That's why I love you so much. You're so practical."
"It's my sexiest trait, that practicality." Ron smirked, and then, pulling his features into a comical caricature of seriousness, asked, "So, do you want to? Marry me now, I mean."
A giddy bubble of laughter escaped Hermione's lips. "Only if we can have Thai after, just you and me."
"Of course," Ron deadpanned. "We have to fortify ourselves before we meet the wedding dragonlady later to break the news that she won't have yet another couple to force into one of her official Weasley weddings."
Hermione sobered wishing that she could tell her parents all about how wonderful Ron was, and how she loved him so much. They would have been so happy for them both, she just knew, even if the circumstances weren't what they would have chosen for her.
"Hey," Ron hugged her tighter. "I'm sure they would have been happy for you… us."
She nodded and peered up into his suspiciously bright eyes. "I'm sure. But what are we doing just standing here? I have a friend to rescue and a dress to buy."
She slipped out of his arms, already feeling the heat of his fade from her skin. "Meet me at the fountain at four?"
Ron nodded. "Love you, Sweetheart."
"I love you too, Ronald." Hermione headed back towards the floos, already forming a story to steal Ginny from Molly's watchful eyes.
She only had a few hours to accomplish so much before her life would change forever.