Her hands were like fire on his skin. Or, rather, his skin was like fire wherever her hands touched. The good kind of searing lusty heat. And he couldn't take it any longer. He couldn't pretend to be level-headed when hands like that were around. Especially not when soft lips and hot breath wanted to explore the hollow at his collarbone. He didn't usually pray much, but right now he prayed that he would soon feel her tongue on him.
Indeed, Draco was aware that he might be a little insane by now, but he didn't care. If this was how insanity felt, then he didn't want to go back to normal.
Suddenly he was lifted off Granger and hurled to the side. Not very hard and not very far, but hard and fast enough to be a bit disgruntled at the sudden lack of contact. 'What are you playing at?' he hissed, feeling both angry and confused. He'd given her an out and she'd still said yes, so what was this supposed to mean?
Granger propped herself up on her elbows, looking extremely dishevelled and like she'd just been naughty. He liked that look on her. 'What, me?' she asked, aghast. 'I'm not the one to- oh!' Suddenly she scrambled to sit up straighter and make sure that her bodice was somewhat in place.
Taking his cue from her line of sight, he saw something that instantly chilled his blood: His mother. She was standing there, wand and eyes ablaze.
Groaning, he got to his knees and hesitantly moved towards Granger. 'I got this,' he muttered under his breath, barely knowing what to do with himself as his mother just stared at him.
'Um... Hello, Mother,' he said, as casually as he could. 'How was France?'
She mutely raised her wand at him and he flinched, keeping quiet.
Granger stared from him to his mother. 'I told you, you should tell her,' she then said, her voice not betraying any fear. Damn Gryffindor. He put a hand on her shoulder to silence her.
'Tell me... what?' his mother just barely managed through clenched teeth.
Draco shrugged, feeling about eight years old again. 'Nothing, really...'
'Nothing?' Granger objected. 'You call a wedding feast nothing? And why did she bring a peacock to- ow!' He'd squeezed her shoulder.
His mother slowly walked closer, her anger - and magic - barely leashed. It was palpable and Draco couldn't fathom how Granger managed to look pouty rather than scared. Being scared would be the wise thing here.
'Could you zip me?' Granger muttered to him, and after spending a few moments figuring out what she meant, he obliged. He supposed it was fair to want to die dressed.
Finally, his mother spoke. 'You,' she said, nodding at Granger. 'Get out!'
Granger calmly got to her feet, just barely avoiding stepping on that damn bird that always followed his mother around, even indoors. 'Straighten it out, Draco, dear,' she said. 'We have a honeymoon to attend to.'
His mother raised the wand that had been somewhat lowered. 'Out!'
Granger waltzed out and Draco cringed at the thought of dealing with this alone. His mother was rarely this monosyllabic.
'Explain to me, dear,' his mother said, her voice still cold as ice, 'how your father and I go away to secure you a bride, and then I come home to find you already married? And to that?'
'Just please tell me Father didn't murder any of the wedding guests yet.'
'Your father remains blissfully ignorant.' His mother seemed to have calmed some after Granger had left the room, but she was still cold as ice. 'I found it to be in the best interest of this family that he never find out.'
'How did you find out, then?' he quietly asked.
'After I'd complained to the Daily Prophet about certain issues going missing, they apologized and sent the ones we hadn't received. Imagine my surprise at seeing the news of your carnal relationship and subsequent engagement to this... person. I then destroyed them, told your father about the apology, and came up with an urgent reason to come back. Now, answer my questions.'
He awkwardly shrugged. 'I... guess I hoped it would all be over before you got back.'
'And then you imagined we'd just put up with your new bride?'
'No...' he muttered, looking down. 'I meant... all over.' How much could he say without giving up the scheme?
'Explain.'
'She's best friends with Potter. She promised to restore most of the funds we'd lost and remove the threat of Azkaban if only I'd marry her.'
'That's not enough reason to marry one of her... kind.' His mother wrinkled her nose in distaste.
'No... but I figured I could make her divorce me in a few weeks. And if that doesn't work, then accidents happen, right?' He was beginning to sweat. He very badly wanted to loosen his collar, but, alas, there was no collar to loosen.
His mother did nothing but stare at him for several long moments. 'Madness,' she then murmured to herself. 'He must be touched with madness. It certainly isn't genius. I've never heard such a far-fetched idea in my life. And I married Lucius. That must be where the boy gets it from.'
Draco sighed. 'Give me a couple of weeks and you'll see.'
She shook her head. 'Out of the question. We will annul right away, and then we will figure out how to keep all those people from ever mentioning it to your father.'
'You know that's impossible.'
She curtly nodded. 'Quite the challenge, yes. Tell me, Draco - what did I ever do to deserve this?'
Feeling thoroughly aggravated, Draco replied, 'It had nothing to do with-'
'Your father and I sacrificed everything - everything - for you, and this is how you repay us?'
'Would you trust me for once?' he almost shouted.
'Trust you? When you so underhandedly go and marry an inferior... I wouldn't even call her a witch... in our own home?'
'Well,' he said, straightening and closing his belt. 'You're just going to have to.'
His mother seemed to have realised this as well, because rather than hex him, she merely crossed her arms and said, 'Wait till your father comes home. He'll have something to say about this.'
Draco was sure he would. But that would fortunately not be something he'd have to deal with until after his "honeymoon". And right now he couldn't wait to go.
Hermione rubbed her hands together to get some warmth in the chilly morning air and then checked her wrist watch. He wasn't quite late... yet. If he was late, would she be allowed - as his pseudo-wife - to chew him out? If so, that would be a rare perk.
Alas, it was not to be, because he arrived at that very moment, dashing all of her hopes of starting out their "marriage" as a shrew.
'Where did you go last night?' he began without as much as a hello.
'Home. Well, first to tell Harry about your mother, then home.'
'On our wedding night? Don't you care what people think?'
She arched an eyebrow. 'I'm sure they think I didn't want to get hexed. Besides, I stayed around for long enough to realise that you weren't going to stand up to her and leave as well.'
He scowled at her. 'And where would I go?'
'You could find somewhere. If you had the backbone.' Didn't he just receive a fifth of his fortune back? Hermione might even have been inclined to offer him her sofa if he'd stood up to his mother, but no. He'd found it appropriate to let his mother throw his fake bride from the room for everyone to gossip about without even challenging it. Git.
He opened and then closed his mouth. Then he said, 'I'm not going to respond to that, because then the beginning of this honeymoon will become really unpleasant.'
Hermione sweetly smiled. Perhaps she'd still get ample opportunity to be a shrew after all. Although, to be quite frank, she wasn't only doing this to be at odds. It had been oddly humiliating to have to go home last night, and she'd lost a lot of respect that she didn't even know she had for Malfoy for his inability to stand up to his parents on his pseudo-wedding night.
It had certainly cooled her down.
'So... we take the Portkey now?' he asked, looking away from her accusing glare.
'In about a half hour. Harry and Ron wanted to meet with us first. Secretly and all that, so if you could move it along without a fuss?'
He scowled at her, but entered the dilapidated building she indicated. They were right on the edge of London in some kind of old industrial district, so there really wasn't anything but dilapidated buildings around. 'Ah, Potter. Just the bloke I love to not see. Weasley. Always a displeasure.' He sat down in a wobbly old, wooden chair. 'Lovely. Just lovely.'
Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. 'So, what's new, Harry?' she asked on a sigh.
'Nothing much,' Harry said. 'We'll go over any concerns there might be and, ah, brief you on some minor changes.'
Malfoy quickly looked up. 'Changes?'
'Very minor,' Harry assured him.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes in suspicion. 'How minor?'
Ron sniggered and it was a very unpleasant sound. He wasn't taking the whole wedding thing very well. 'As long as you can contain those smoldering looks of yours and don't do anything rash, it should be fine,' he said.
'Ron!' Harry warned, alarming Hermione.
'What changes?' she quietly asked.
Harry sighed. 'Look, we had a man, but your wedding planner was far too competent and aware of every little detail. And you'd signed off on every duty. As the best man, I tried to influence her decisions, but no such luck. She had very detailed background information on everyone in this party.'
'Stop avoiding the issue!' Malfoy demanded. 'What man? What changes? You're making us nervous here!'
Harry ran his hand through his hair. 'The minister. I didn't succeed in getting our man to stand as your minister, so, ah...'
'You're married,' Ron curtly said. 'Congratulations.'
Hermione's whole world shattered around her and for a moment she could've sworn she was floating in a space filled with absolutely nothing. 'W-what?' she finally stammered. 'But you said that you'd take care of it. That it would be fake. That we wouldn't... that it...' The world was slowly returning, but it was spinning far too quickly for her to truly hold onto it.
'We can't be bloody married!' she heard Malfoy object. 'That was not the deal!'
'Relax!' Harry cut in. 'Just... relax. It's not that big a deal. We've already drawn up the annulment papers. Our scheme is cause enough to make it all go away. After a short hearing, it will be like nothing happened, exactly like before.'
'Except it's not,' Hermione muttered, grabbing her head. 'We're married... I'm married to... that...'
'Stop!' Harry said in his most authoritative voice. 'Stop it right there! You are not married. It was just a minor technical glitch. Marriage takes more than a certain kind of person saying a few words and signing a few papers.'
'Look on the bright side, Hermione,' Ron said, smiling nastily at Malfoy. 'If you want, you can now divorce him for a nice portion of what he owns.'
Malfoy blanched. 'I don't have...' He shot to his feet. 'You tricked me!' he accused Harry. 'I didn't take any legal precautions because I didn't think I'd need to, and now you're out to scam me of my hard-earned money?'
'No one's out to-' Harry began, but this time Hermione interrupted.
'Please, you really think I want a divorce from you on file? All the riches in the land couldn't buy that.'
But the merciless truth remained. No matter what Harry said, no matter what she did, she was actually really married to Malfoy.
This was her first marriage.
She'd never wanted there to be a first marriage. She'd wanted there to be only one marriage, which would last for life. Now this stupid thing, lasting a week or two, would forever taint that.
'It's not that bad,' Harry tried again.
She looked straight at him, her universe still spinning around them, but for some reason she could see just him clearly. 'That is not for you to decide, Harry,' she calmly said. 'I will do this thing, see it through, but afterwards I expect a paid leave of indeterminate length.'
'But-' he tried.
'-And if you can't get them to pay me, Harry, then you will do so yourself. For the duration. Understood?' Then she walked out.
Behind her she heard Malfoy say, 'Oh, and Potter? That will be an extra ten percent for me too. Thanks.'
At least there were no incidents with the Portkey. And when they were greeted by the staff of their hotel and brought to their suite, Granger smiled and nodded until they went away. Then she immediately adopted a scowl and began pacing.
'So where-' Draco began.
'Ten percent?' she rudely interrupted. 'Ten? Percent?'
He winced. 'You thought that was pushing it?'
'Yes! You should've asked for twenty! Or forty! Or, better yet, a hundred and thirty seven!'
He glanced at her, not sure if she was being sarcastic. 'Um...'
'I can't believe how little it matters to you that we're married. We. Are. Married.'
'Oh, that.' He shrugged. 'I always kind of knew we would be.'
She stopped up and glared at him. 'How could you know? Nobody knew! I certainly didn't know! Did you do something?'
'No, no, easy.' He held up his hands to placate her. 'I only meant that I knew we'd act married and the fact that the piece of paper is legit doesn't really change much. It's a little more real now, but it's not that big of a deal.'
'Not that big of a deal? Not that big of a deal?' She shook her head violently. 'I don't want this, Malfoy. I really don't want this.' She sounded much more upset than he'd expect from someone as level-headed as her.
'I know,' he quietly said. 'But it is what it is, right? We just have to work from here.' And Potter had said that it was easily annulled, after all.
She nodded, making a suspicious swipe at her cheek that Draco chose to ignore. 'God,' she muttered. 'Can you imagine if your mother hadn't interrupted us? How difficult this mess could've become?'
'I hadn't thought of that,' he admitted. 'I don't think it would really matter, though. Sex as a deciding factor for rejection can only be important if virginity is a deciding factor for marriage and... well, it isn't.'
Granger didn't seem to take comfort in this. 'Who knows if that's true? There are lots of outdated laws lingering, not making sense! Have you ever had a marriage annulled before?'
He pursed his lips. There was no calming Granger through logic. 'Good point,' he said instead. 'In that case, I'm actually rather grateful to my mother. I should buy her flowers.'
'A gift basket,' Granger suggested.
'Ah, yes, with fine wine.'
'And her favourite... something.'
'She likes chocolate cherries.' His mother tried to hide it, but Draco certainly hadn't inherited his sweet tooth from strangers.
'Right. Dozens of those.'
'Ah, but not too many, because then she'll accuse me of trying to make her fat.'
Granger blinked and at last stopped her pacing, making Draco dizzy with the sudden lack of movement. 'Why would she do that?'
'My mother is an inexplicable creature. Do not ask me to try to explain her.' He was trying very hard not to laugh at the fact that someone else's lack of logic had seemed to jar Granger out of her own illogical fears.
'Fair enough.'
'But... Granger? I still have one question.'
'What would that be?'
He looked around at their luxurious surroundings, locating his bags at the other side of an open doorway into the most lavish bedroom he'd ever seen - and that was saying something. 'Where exactly are we, again?'
Hermione blinked. 'Why, we're in our hotel room.'
Malfoy pursed his lips. 'Clever. And where would our hotel be located?'
Belatedly, Hermione realised that they'd neglected to tell Malfoy exactly where their staged honeymoon would be, just to filter out all the noise. Harry had managed to leak the location well enough that anyone bent on murder would be able to pick up on it, but they'd thought it best to limit it so people concerned about Malfoy's poor match wouldn't randomly compromise the situation by showing up and trying to get him to leave her.
'Oh... um, Corfu.'
'Corfu?'
'Yes. Well, not the city, we're actually much closer to Ipsos and-'
'Why Corfu?'
Hermione shrugged, refusing to acknowledge the little pang of self-consciousness. 'It's a popular travelling destination and it has lots of interesting history plus a thriving wizarding community. It would make sense to go here.' Also, she'd always wanted to go to Greece, so this island with its reputation for discreet wizarding hotels had seemed like the perfect choice.
'I don't tan well.'
'Too bad!' she snapped. 'You can go to Antarctica on your next honeymoon!'
He looked at her for a long moment. 'You wanted to come here, didn't you?'
'Well, yes. As I told you-'
'No. You wanted to come here.'
Again she felt self-conscious. Damn it. 'I figured that if there was time, I might go look at some ruins or visit their national museum. Greek history always fascinated me, and it's even more fascinating with a wizarding spin on it.'
He just kept looking at her. Why did he keep looking at her like that? Finally, he spoke. 'Did it ever occur to you that I might not want to spend my time here gawking at old bricks or other rubbish?'
She blinked. 'I didn't figure you'd join me. There's plenty of things for you to do, even if you dislike the beach.'
'Aren't you forgetting something?'
'What?'
'Um, the killer?'
'No, he'll find me. No use sitting around waiting for him. In fact, the less suspicious our behaviour is, the more likely he is to strike fast so we can go home.'
'That brings me to my second concern - we're supposed to be newly-wed and you think going off to look at old things by yourself isn't suspicious?'
'Well, I did some thinking. I pretended that this was real and we'd really for some unfathomable reason married each other, and I realised that I'd still want to do these things and you still wouldn't, so nothing would really change.'
'You're wrong,' he insisted. 'Something would change!'
'Like what?'
'Like I'd bloody well go with you on your annoying trips, so I wish you'd have cleared it with me first!' he growled.
'I wouldn't want to drag a killjoy around with me, then I'd much rather go alone. And I'd tell you that up front.'
He rubbed the bridge of his nose before giving her the most aggravatingly annoying look. 'Look, if you actually want people to think I fancy you, you're going to have to listen to me. I would go with you, and I would try to make it a fun trip, even if I were bored out of my skull.'
'Why? You're not exactly the nice type.'
He made a face at her. 'Thanks. Put it down to me losing all mental capacity and becoming a complete idiot whenever I fancy a witch. I told you - I consider it a bother.'
'Right. I see how doing something kind for someone you care about could make you feel like that.'
He scowled at her in response. 'So when are we going?'
'Oh, I thought I'd give us a day or two to get settled in first. Maybe I'll see if Harry has something new to report first.'
'Potter is here?'
'Not exactly.'
'So how do you talk to him? Do you owl him?'
'That's confidential,' she said. The less people knew how, the less risk of communication being blocked.
'You're just doing that to bother me.'
'Actually, no. But it's a bonus.'
'Of course.'
'But I suppose there is something you should know - these rooms have been secured against eavesdropping and prying eyes, but outside, like I already told you, we'll always have an Auror and another Hit Wizard watching us. They think our union is real too, but are only sent here to try and keep us alive and of course catch the killer.'
'Won't that raise flags for the killer?'
'No. It makes sense that Harry would protect me. They do however have orders to make catching the killer their first priority and protection their second. Still, if you get in trouble, they'll be there.'
'Bloody useless if they can't keep an eye on the rooms.'
She pursed her lips, finding his complaining less than charming. 'That's actually the default for this hotel. Personally I like to have somewhere where I don't have to pretend to fancy you. But it would probably be best if you didn't spend too much time here without me.'
'Right.' He looked around their big, luxurious living room, apparently not taken with any of the plush, comfortable furniture. Then he seemingly noticed the big glass double doors out to the balcony and went to open them and step out to survey their surroundings. The balcony was, of course, facing the beach, but he only gave that a cursory glance, before he began examining what else he could see. It probably wasn't much. Maybe he could see the city Corfu across the bays if the weather was clear, and he could probably see the hills in the not that far distance if he looked to his left, but mostly there would be designated tourist traps.
'This little area is protected by a Muggle-Repelling Charm of sorts, and a slice of the beach is even reserved for the magically inclined, but if you want to see more of the island, there's a chance you'll have to mingle with Muggles. I've heard that young Muggles like to come to Ipsos to party.'
'Could you stop sounding like a textbook for five minutes, Granger? I'm just having a look.'
She flushed. So much for trying to be helpful. 'Speaking of textbooks,' she said, opening her small handbag. 'Here's one with more information on how and where to find the wizarding community on this island. They should for the most part speak English.'
'Lovely,' he said, coming back in and closing the doors behind him.
He didn't sound like he meant it.
Hermione felt her hackles rising. 'So where would you have gone on a honeymoon if not to a pretty, sunny island?' she asked, folding her arms.
He shrugged. 'It wouldn't really matter. I doubt we'd leave the bedroom.'
She couldn't really help but snort. 'Right. You have that kind of stamina.'
He arched an eyebrow. 'Was that a challenge?'
'No! That was me calling you on your dragon dung! Sooner or later you'd get bored or tired or sore, and you'd want to go to a nice restaurant, or the beach. Or a museum filled with the treasures of yore and knowledge of the ages.'
He looked at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. She grew more and more annoyed with him until he finally stopped and then beamed at her. 'Point taken, Granger. But how about we hide out for a couple of days before we go to that museum of yours?'
She frowned. 'You don't even want to go to a restaurant? But I hear they have-'
'No newly-weds should go to a restaurant on the first day of their honeymoon,' he insisted. 'They should get food brought to their room and eat it in bed. In fact, if you insist, we could act out the details.'
She shot him a dark look. 'I see no pitcher with questionable liquid here, so you're out of luck.'
'Ah, pity,' he muttered. 'It would be fun.'
Not wanting to comment on Malfoy's idea of fun, she went in to the bedroom to get a book from her suitcase.
She'd brought books. On her honeymoon. True, it was a sham honeymoon, but Draco very much suspected that made very little difference. Hermione Granger would bring books to her own funeral.
But at least it seemed like she'd agreed to lay low for a while. That was good. It soothed his ego a little bit. He didn't know what it was with Granger, but it was like she was completely oblivious to how people in love - or lust for that matter - were supposed to act. If they were to run around all day, every day, showing the same lack of tenderness as they had so far, no killer in their right mind would come forward. They'd assume this would end in a divorce after no more than a few months.
She'd curled up in a comfy armchair with her book and Draco had taken the time to investigate their suite. Thankfully, it wasn't red. The colour theme seemed to be more along the lines of gold and cream. He could live with that. Obviously, there was only one bedroom attached to the suite, but the bed in there was big enough that five people could sleep comfortably there without touching each other, so he figured that modesty would hardly be much of an issue.
The bathroom was as big and luxurious as expected, although he couldn't for the life of him figure out why they'd put a chair out there. He hardly found the bath a suitable place for lengthy conversations, unless both parties were in it. And then there was the main room, with the big, cosy living arrangement that Granger was currently occupying.
At least he'd got something for his money. He'd gone behind Granger's back to get Potter to upgrade their reservation to whatever was the best currently available. He didn't really feel like pretending to be on honeymoon in a Ministry budget room. Potter had given him some trouble, talking about how the Ministry couldn't just accept his money like that, but eventually Draco had had his way. Leaving Granger in the dark about this only seemed reasonable. She'd make a fuss. Never mind that Draco had only just got a little bit of his money back after having had to watch every knut for too long, so he quite enjoyed the prospect of a luxurious hotel stay in a suite big enough that he didn't have to see Granger all day, even if they were both in it.
'I'm taking a bath!' he called to her. She made a non-committal sound back, too engrossed in her book to care what he was doing.
Ah, wedded bliss.
Author's note: Hey, sorry for the "almost" up there, but you did see the T-rating, right? ;)
