Courting Miss Granger-Chapter 15- More Anniversaries
By yours truly, Marmalade Fever
Disclaimer: I don't own Cheerios. They belong to General Mills.
Hermione dodged as Malfoy's owl swooped into her kitchen Tuesday morning, dropping a package onto her cereal bowl. The owl swooped out again before she could even think about offering it a bit of her toast. The package was a flat box, about a foot long and six inches wide. She wiped a cheerio off of it before undoing the string it had been tied with. Inside the brown paper was a box of chocolate and a note.
Dearest,
Some unexpected guests have dropped in, and I'm afraid we'll have to cancel tonight's plans. As a consolation, I'm offering this box of chocolate. (I know, a poor substitute.) Also, you may be pleased to note, a week from Thursday is our one-month anniversary. I figure that that has to be more important than three weeks, so hopefully you'll be able to bear with me. My guests will be here for a few days, so I don't think I'll be able to see you until December 3rd. I'll pick you up at your house at eight. See you then, Miss Granger.
Your fiancé,
Draco Malfoy
Hermione set the note aside and opened the box of chocolates, eating one that looked like it could be caramel inside. It really did seem sometimes like he was trying to fatten her up or something. She had gained three pounds during the last three weeks. A pound a week wasn't exactly encouraging. She closed the box and told herself that she couldn't have another until after work.
...
The week passed relatively quickly and before she knew it, it was 8 o'clock on December 3rd.
Draco ran his fingers through his hair one last time before grabbing the single red rose that he had just bought. He had just made it on time. Crabbe, Goyle, their wives, and all their snotty children had only left the house two hours ago. He winked at his reflection and less than a second later appeared on Granger's front step. He knocked and waited.
Hermione jumped when she heard knocking coming from her door. Since when did he feel the need to knock? She shrugged it off and answered the door.
Draco smiled as his fiancée opened the door, looking, he was pleased to notice, exceptionally well. She was wearing black dress robes lined with teal-blue and had her hair up. Those two perfect lips of hers were smiling back.
"Where are we going?" she asked after a few seconds. Draco caught his breath. He had been staring at her so hard that the question caught him off guard.
"Oh, I think you'll be very pleased. Tonight just so happens to be the Ministry's annual ball."
"On a Thursday?" she asked, grinning.
Draco shrugged. "Don't ask. Anyway, I had to pull a few strings to get us tickets, but we're going."
"I've never heard of any sort of Ministry Ball before," she said, thoughtfully.
"Well," he said, slipping his arm around her waist and feeling her tense up only slightly, "it's very high society. Only the ministry's most important members and supporters can get in. My parents go every year."
She raised an eyebrow. "In other words, anyone who's rich, famous, or important?"
He paused and gave her a quizzical look. "What makes you say that?"
She shrugged. "How do we get there?"
"Floo," he said, gesturing back inside. He followed her in and gave her the address and she disappeared from sight. He rejoined her, willing himself not to cough. There was a fairly long line at the door and they slid into it behind the head of the Games and Magical Sports department and her husband.
"Draco? Hermione?" Predictable, Draco thought, as he turned to face Albus Dumbledore. The old man had, apparently, just slipped into line behind him, with, oddly enough, Professor McGonagall.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Granger shouted happily, giving the old man a quick hug. "It's so good to see you! And you too, Professor," she said, giving McGonagall a cheerful nod.
"Likewise, dear girl, likewise," Dumbledore said, jovially. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, looked less pleased with the situation, if not stressed.
"So the rumors are true then?" she asked, looking from Draco to Granger, and then finally to the ring on Granger's hand. Draco had to take it back. This confrontation was more uncomfortable for him than any previously, even with her parents. What was worse was that Dumbledore had the power to take her away from him if she only asked.
"As a matter of fact, they are," Granger replied, smiling so sincerely he could have kissed her for it. Either she was exceptionally dumb and didn't realize that this was her chance to escape him forever, or she was actually looking forward to the marriage. He slid his hand into hers and gave it a squeeze.
"Hm," McGonagall said, looking more surprised than skeptical, as he would have imagined. "And your parents are okay with this?"
"You could almost say that it was our idea." Draco turned again to find his parents strolling toward them. He noticed both Dumbledore and McGonagall stiffen. "Children, what are you standing here for? You're Malfoys, you don't need to stand in line," his father said with what Draco could almost describe as a sniff.
"Right you are, Father. Excuse us," Draco said, steering Granger out of the line and straight through the doors, merely flashing his tickets as he did so. The room was barely lighted and a live band was playing in the corner.
"Your father just called me a Malfoy!" Granger stammered in pure disbelief.
"I know, I could hardly believe it myself," Draco said, eyeing her seriously. "I wonder what story they're going to tell Dumbledore..."
"I don't know. I can't believe that they would tell them the truth..."
"Hermione?"
She looked up with surprise. "Yes?"
"When you told McGonagall that we really are engaged, you looked almost..."
"Almost what?"
"Like you love me," he whispered, eyes searching hers. Her face faltered. "Do you want to dance?" he asked, in the same hushed voice.
"Of course," she said slowly. He took her right hand and placed his on the small of her back, guiding her about the room. The song ended a minute or so later, to be replaced with an even faster one.
"Want something to drink?" he asked, noticing that she looked about as winded as he felt. They found a table on the other side of the room with everything from punch to butterbeer to champagne.
"Actually," she said, as he handed her a drink, "I haven't eaten anything yet."
"A problem that can easily be remedied." He led her through a door into a fully illuminated room in which dinner was being served. They sat down and ordered, and a moment or so later they were served.
"Mind if we join you?" it was Dumbledore and McGonagall again.
"Go right ahead," Granger said, beaming at them. The two aging professors sat down alongside her. The fear that had temporarily been subsided rose up once again in Draco. What had his parents said?
"You know, I've heard about the Malfoy Marriage Contract before this, but I had never seen the direct results up until now," Dumbledore said, helping himself to a pork chop.
Draco's jaw dropped. "You knew?" he asked.
"Oh, certainly my boy. If I'm not mistaken, this seems to have turned into a blessing in disguise." All members of the party had their heads turned toward Dumbledore, intrigued.
"Albus, would you mind elaborating for us?" McGonagall asked, blinking curtly.
"Of course. You see, despite the fact that this marriage is unfair to both Draco and Hermione, I believe that the repercussions are actually quite interesting. In what other circumstance would they have been able to put their differences aside and allow themselves to fall in love with Lucius Malfoy's blessing? It's a way for old rivalries to be put aside and new, deeper bonds to be created. Although, there is always the possibility that I'm simply being an old ding bat and have no idea what I'm saying." Draco looked at his old headmaster curiously. Were they both wearing their hearts on their sleeves to the point that this old man could confidently accuse them of falling in love? It seemed true enough about Granger, but him as well?
Dumbledore continued to eat his pork chop, asking Professor McGonagall for a dance as soon as they were finished. "Draco," Granger said, as soon as the two professors were out of earshot, "I've been thinking about how your father called me a Malfoy."
"What of it?" he asked.
"You remember when I asked you about anyone who's rich, famous, or important being invited to this ball?" Draco nodded, knowing where she was headed. "It's as if marrying into the Malfoy family suddenly inducts me into that ranking. Doesn't that seem a little... odd?"
Draco sighed. "Politics can work in strange ways." He took her hand into his and gently polished the diamond on her ring with his thumb. "Come," he said, kissing the back of her hand and getting up, "let's go dance a bit more." He led her out to the dance floor again and they started waltzing. A little later the music changed and he realized it was time for a slow dance. "You game?" he asked. As an answer he found her head resting on his shoulder. Her delicately scented hair was mere inches from his nose as they slowly circled the three-foot wide spot they were in. Across the floor a little ways, his parents were dancing as well. His father gave him an appraising look and a nod of approval. Once again Draco sang the praises of the Malfoy Marriage Contract. Just as Dumbledore had said, in any other circumstance his father would be flashing death in his eyes. Speaking of whom, his father turned his head in his direction again. This time he was mouthing something, which distinctly looked like, "kiss her." Well, no point in disobeying a direct order... Draco cocked Granger's head up and looked deeply into her eyes before setting his lips against hers. He was pleased to find a complete lack of resistance, but rather an almost intense willingness. There was no doubt in his mind that this marriage was going to work.
End Notes:
We're getting close to my favorite chapter, number 17...
