Courting Miss Granger, Chapter 2: Marry the Mudblood?
By Marmalade Fever
(The day before.)
Draco Malfoy woke up early. It was his birthday today. He dressed and apparated over to his parents' house. His father had requested his presence there. No doubt, his father wanted to give him a birthday present of some sort. He was getting a little old for racing brooms, but who knew?
"Good morning, Mother," Draco said, as he appeared in front of a blonde woman with her nose in the air.
"Oh, Draco, darling!" his mother cooed. "Your father wants you in his study. Pay close attention to what he tells you dear," she added, looking somewhat apprehensive.
"Okay..." Draco said, rolling his eyes as soon as his mother had turned away. She had always been overprotective of him. Honestly, what could be so important about a gift? Down the hall, up two flights of stairs, and on his left was the door to his father's study. Draco knocked, knowing how temperamental his father could be about that rule. He had once walked in on him while he was having a very heated argument with a fellow death-eater and had received a bad blow from a misdirected curse. He had also had his sweets privileges taken away, like a commoner!
"Come in!" his father's voice boomed. Draco did as he was told. His father was sitting behind his desk and, to Draco's disappointment, there was no sign of tissue paper. Instead, on the desk sat a very old set of documents. "Sit down, son," his father commanded.
"Where's my present?" Draco couldn't help but say.
His father scowled. "We're throwing you a party on Friday. You can have your present then."
"Alright," Draco said, shifting in his seat. He always got a present on his birthday, always.
"Listen son, there is something of utmost importance to discuss." He gestured to the documents on the table and began to read. Draco could hardly understand a word of it and had to read it several times over himself.
"What does it mean?" he asked, scratching his head, resulting in his greased hair flipping strangely.
"What it means," his father said, surveying him, "is that you have to get married, son."
"Married? How soon?"
"By a year from today."
"A YEAR? But, but, that can't be!" Draco cried, pulling the papers forward again.
"It can and it is going to happen. These rules were set down generations ago to ensure the continuance of the family name. If you don't marry an acceptable girl by the end of the year, you lose the family fortune."
"No money? Who else would get it?"
"Your cousin, Nymphadora Tonks," Mr. Malfoy said, looking livid.
"But she's from Mum's side! And a half-blood to boot!"
"I know, I know... I'd really rather not have to fork it over to her. The money's not the only reason I'd recommend that you take this seriously. Besides ending up poor, you'll also be cursed."
"Cursed?" Draco squeaked. "Fine, then. I'll marry. Who've we got?"
His father withdrew a sheet of paper from his desk drawer. "I made this list a while back. There are several qualifications to make the girl up to standard. She's got to be a witch, naturally. She's got to be from England. She's got to be no more than a year older or younger than you--"
"That's stupid."
"She's also supposed to be unmarried. This list is a little out-dated." The man sighed and took out a quill and carefully crossed off the name, "Hannah Abbott." "She's married." He then crossed off Milicent Bulstrode. "She's dead." Then he crossed off several more name until there was really only one left on the entire sheet.
"Who's that?" Draco asked, peering at the paper. His father was sheltering the name. "Pansy, maybe?"
"No... She's been married five years already. I never even put her on this list."
"Alright then, who?"
"You aren't going to like this and frankly, neither do I." He uncovered the paper and placed it in front of his son.
"The mudblood?" Draco spat. "How could that be?" he yelled.
"There isn't a single pureblood left. They're all married or dead or else frozen in a tundra..."
"Who...?"
"It's not important. What's important is that if you want to stay in the family, get your riches, and stay alive in the process, you better marry this Hermione Granger--"
"But she's a friend of Potter's!"
"That makes no difference. The Malfoy Marriage Contract doesn't care how well you get along... or even that this means the end of our line of purebloods..." His hands were gripping his desk so hard that it looked like he could have broken a chunk of it off.
"Marry the mudblood?" Draco said, leaning back and massaging his temples.
"I want you to have dinner with her tomorrow."
"Tomorrow!"
"I also want you to invite her to your party, Friday."
"How on earth am I to convince her to marry me?"
"You're a bright boy, you can figure it out. Besides, you have my charm, don't you? And good looks as well."
"I'm going to die!" Draco wailed, not taking his father's words in. "And I'm going to be poor!"
The door creaked. "Draco darling, would you like to come to the kitchen for some cake?" His mother's head was sticking through the door.
"Leave him alone, Narcissa." The head retreated through the door.
"I'm going to be poor and dead! I'm going to die a poor commoner unless I marry Granger!"
"That's the gist of it."
End Notes:
Again, sorry about the shortness of the chapters. I was updating weekly at the time, and I typically wrote each chapter in one sitting.
