A/N: I still don't own Harry Potter or any related characters!

Draco woke the morning light pouring into the room. Slowly he opened his eyes, taking in the posters, the way the dust clung to the corners of the room. He blinked a few times before something else caught his attention.

He thought he could hear someone moving around downstairs. How as that possible? Obviously the elves were gone, why else would there be so much dust? Slowly the events of the previous evening came flooding back. Him being released from Azkaban, the person to whom he'd been released... his wife... Hermione! Draco sat up quickly.

He made his way to the closet and opened it hoping to find something to wear. He couldn't keep wearing this one pair of robes. He pulled out a few things, noticing just how small some of his clothing was. Finally he found some of the stuff from this last year at Hogwarts. He was lucky he'd lost weight in Azkaban which allowed the robes to fit, although they were a bit short.

A framed photograph on his nightstand caught his attention. It was of him and his parents. Could Hermione be right? Could his father really be alive? Draco wanted to believe her, the idea that he still had at least one person alive, that maybe he wasn't orphaned, bloomed like a tiny flower of hope in his chest. He squashed it quickly. Hope was dangerous.

He picked up the photograph and set it face down. No, if his father was alive, he would have contacted him somehow, wouldn't he have? Draco blinked back tears. Hermione believed him alive, but then why hadn't he tried to contact him, maybe he couldn't? Maybe he was finally trying to do the right thing and protect his only son? Either way, Draco needed to get the day started, see what Hermione had planned.

He made his way downstairs and realized he could smell bacon and something else, maybe toast? Since when could Hermione cook? Could she cook? Draco remembered how much she'd hated house elves, how she'd tried to free them all their fourth year. It wouldn't have made any sense for her to have one making breakfast. No, it had to be her doing.

Draco smiled slightly. Cooking was one skill he'd always wanted to learn, but no one in his family could, or would, teach him. It was a considered a subject for witches, not wizards, and who needed to cook when you had house elves that did everything for you? Draco had never had the courage to pursue the matter further after that. Maybe Hermione would be willing to teach him?

The idea of Hermione cooking was something he'd never have thought of, but then again, he realized, there was a lot he didn't know about the witch. He also wondered briefly how there was any food in the manor since it had been abandoned since he'd been sentenced to prison. That question solved itself when he stepped into the kitchen. There were several bags from a nearish muggle grocery store sitting on the floor.

"Good, you're up," Hermione chirped, seeing Draco appear in the doorway to the kitchen. "We've got a lot of work to do today. We've both got to plan the stupid party celebrating our marriage and figure out how to find your father. I know my lead's decent, that it's from a trustworthy source, but other than that..." Hermione's voice trailed off. Draco nodded, pulling out her chair for her after she'd place breakfast on the table. She blinked but sat down.

"What do you know about my father?" he finally asked, stabbing a slice of bacon with his silver fork.

"I guess it's too much for you to have a list of all the properties your family owns, that his family owned?" Hermione asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Given the fact I only know about half of them, yes. However, I do know the names of some of the companies my father headed, companies that existed in name only. It's possible there's some properties in their names," Draco answered, thinking about how some of his father's business dealings were shadier than others. He realized he had no actual idea how deep the rabbit hole went.

"That's a good start on that at least. Now, the party. It's in two days, I've managed to figure out how to do most of the things, got a caterer and such, but I have never hosted such a thing. Please tell me you have some experience, otherwise no one's going to believe you and I..."

"Don't worry, Granger, I mean, Hermione. Parties are something Malfoys know how to plan perfectly. I'm going to bet you have lists of everything you've gotten done?"

Hermione merely nodded, summoning a large pad of parchment. Draco smiled. He liked the fact she was organized, liked how her notes were written in perfect handwriting, every little detail mentioned.

"You've been planning this awhile."

"Yes, I have been, you were the only wild card in this whole thing. I was terrified that you wouldn't play along, that you would resist," she whispered. Draco nodded, scribbling a few notes on hers.

"You've got the basics covered. I still have a few connections, at least I think I do, I'll see about pulling a few strings. It's not a Malfoy party if the name isn't flexed to get the very best," he added, shooting her a smirk. She scoffed at him, but he could see the corners of her mouth pulling into a smile.

Why the bloody hell had he never noticed how cute she looked when she was annoyed? There wasn't time for that now. He mentally shook those thoughts from his head. Right now, they had to plan this thing and find his father before it was too late. He couldn't possibly be falling for her anyway, she was a muggle-born, the exact opposite of the witch he was supposed to marry.

"Right. Give me the names of the companies and the list of properties you know about. I'll follow that while you get the rest of this set up by flexing our name," she replied, emphasizing the word 'our'. Draco bit back a laugh. The idea of Hermione as a Malfoy was almost laughable, but there was something about her, something he couldn't define, but right now, he wanted to do exactly what she said. Maybe, just maybe, they could make the world believe they were married long enough to save his father...after that.. at least he'd be free.