Well, I couldn't help myself. I had to post the first chapter of this fic.
The idea has been on my mind for more than a year and I really hope you enjoy it!
If you have read the sneak peek on Twitter you already know what happens in this chapter... but I've added a few new things.
As always, the characters and universe of Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling, but the story is mine.
You can also read the English version on Ao3.
English is not my first language and all mistakes are mine
*Warning: Sexual content*
Chapter One
The Letter
October 2nd, 2005
A storm was raging outside the manor. Thick rain fell over the grounds and dark grey clouds covered the sky.
It was a great representation of his mood.
Draco had woken up early that morning. His stomach churned at the idea of food so he hadn't left his bedroom.
He was pacing, his hands fisted behind his back and his jaw working.
Another thunder illuminated the sky, catching his attention.
Draco walked over to the window. Maybe the owl wouldn't make it.
He muttered a curse under his breath and resumed his pacing.
Today was the day he had been dreading for weeks.
The letter from the Ministry would come and tell him the person they had chosen as his future wife, according to the affinity tests he had been forced to do.
A Healer had made him drink a few drops of Veritasesum and then had asked him hundreds of questions about himself, his life, what he liked, what he hated… and Draco had tried to resist, but the words had rolled off his tongue without his permission.
That bloody Healer knew more about him than his own parents.
He went to his desk and scoffed at the front page of the Daily Prophet.
The stupid Marriage Law had been passed a month earlier. Every witch and wizard over twenty-five years of age had to marry before Christmas and produce a child in two years. No exceptions.
His family's money wouldn't save him this time.
Draco, in desperation, had tried to convince Daphne to marry him before the law was enacted by the Wizengamot.
But his friend didn't want to be in a loveless marriage. In fact, she already was in love, and she and Blaise Zabini had eloped in August.
They were now husband and wife. Bastards.
His other friends Theo, Greg and Pansy were in the same position as him.
Though none of them had tried to kill Dumbledore. Or had a Dark Mark on his forearm. Or had cast an Unforgivable Curse on two people, one of them a student.
Draco sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed and hiding his face in his hands to collect his thoughts.
He was doomed.
Every witch in England hated him and his family. Nothing good could come out of this.
He just had to accept he would never be happy again. His life would be miserable from now on.
Draco snorted. That was an easy thing to do.
He knew his parents had always wanted to arrange a marriage for him, and this forced marriage was something similar.
The only little, tiny difference was that he would be bound to his new wife by magic. He couldn't cheat on her, mentally or physically, or he risked his own life.
Fucking Ministry of fucking Magic. They had thought about everything.
Draco straightened his back and squared his shoulders.
He was a Malfoy. He could endure it.
A tapping noise on his window made him flinch. He stood up, letting the Ministry owl get inside.
Draco held his breath as the wet bird glared at him, let the letter fall to the ground and flew out again.
He grabbed the yellow envelope with trembling hands.
The moment had come.
Panicking wouldn't help. Draco lifted his Occlumency walls, pushing his feelings to the corner of his mind.
His hands stopped shaking instantly.
He paused next to the door and looked in the mirror one last time, checking that his unreadable mask was in place. He nodded at himself and stormed out of his room.
His heart was pounding painfully in his chest as he descended the stairs.
"Mother, Father. It's here," he announced as he entered the living room.
Both his parents jumped to their feet at his words.
"Have you opened it?" Narcissa asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Draco shook his head.
"I didn't want to do it alone."
There were two glasses of Firewhisky on the table. Lucius took both of them and offered one to his son.
Draco accepted the drink, finishing it in one gulp and wrinkling his nose as the honey liquid burned his throat.
Liquid courage. He needed it.
Lucius took a sip of the other and Narcissa stole the glass from him, taking two large gulps.
His mother vanished the glasses and looked him in the eye.
"We're ready when you are, Draco."
Draco snorted. He would never be ready for this.
His gaze fell to the envelope and he broke the seal of the letter.
Draco took the parchment out of it and opened it.
He took his time reading it, and his face lost its colour once he found the name.
The parchment fell to the marble floor, a loud gasp echoing around the room.
"No."
Draco shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Who is it?"
He glanced at his mother, her face white as a sheet. His gaze fell on his father.
"The emergency portkey."
Lucius frowned.
"Why do you want it?"
"The portkey, Father," Draco hissed, his body shaking as he waved his wand. "I won't marry her."
A black suitcase appeared at his feet.
"Who is it, Draco?"
Both men ignored Narcissa's question.
Lucius walked to the fireplace and opened a silver chest. He returned to their side and stared at his son with a blank expression.
"The Ministry will find you, Draco. You can't hide from them."
An old key fell on Draco's palm.
"I have to try," he muttered angrily, tapping the portkey with the tip of his wand and picking up his suitcase. "I can't stay here and let them ruin my life."
The key glowed blue and, with a soft pop, Draco was gone.
Narcissa wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. She crouched down and picked up the parchment, opening it with trembling fingers.
The name of the witch was in the middle of the letter, written in cursive.
Hermione Jean Granger
She shared a shocked look with her husband, clutching the parchment to her chest and letting out a shuddering breath.
"Let's hope that they don't find him, Lucius."
October 9th, 2005
Draco Lucius Malfoy
Hermione read the letter for the tenth time with a furrowed brow.
Out of all the wizards from Britain, she had to get the worst of them all.
She glared down at the following line.
very high compatibility level: 92%
That was a good joke. A prejudiced prick like Malfoy couldn't have anything in common with her.
Hermione snorted and folded the parchment, looking around. She was the only one left in the room.
Half of the people expected to marry had to be there that morning, where they would meet their future partner and choose a date for the wedding.
But she hadn't seen a platinum blond head among the wizards.
Where the hell was Malfoy?
The door opened and Harry stepped out, his Auror cloak fluttering behind him.
"They can't find him."
His words took a little to sink in.
"What?"
"Malfoy," Harry clarified with a half smile. "He's not here."
"Well, yeah," Hermione pointed at the twenty-one empty chairs in the room. "I know that."
"No," he sat down next to her and sighed. "He's not in Britain."
Her heart skipped a beat.
Hermione stared down at his wedding band as she chewed on her lower lip.
"Did he leave the country?"
Harry rubbed his forehead and glanced at her.
"Two Aurors are interrogating his parents right now," his lips curled upward and he patted her knee. "I think he fled to avoid marrying you."
Hermione couldn't help the big smile that spread across her face.
"So I don't have to marry him?"
"Not for now, no," Harry's smile faded. "They may find him, though."
"And if they don't?"
He rested his head on the wall and stared at the ceiling.
"Then you'll have to wait until next October," Harry closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. "You'll be free for another year."
Hermione jumped to her feet.
"Harry, this is the best thing I've ever heard!"
She pointed her hands to the ceiling and spun around as she giggled.
She wouldn't have to marry someone who hated her. Hermione had spent months trying to find a way of stopping the Wizengamot from approving the Marriage Law but to no avail.
It was legal, it had been done before and it was necessary. That was the excuse Kingsley kept repeating every time she went to his office to argue about it with him.
The Wizarding population had suffered a great loss after the war and the Ministry had decided to step in.
Harry furrowed his brow, watching her dance in happiness.
"Don't celebrate so soon."
"I'll have a year to find a suitable partner before the Ministry chooses him for me," Hermione shrugged, panting softly as she sat down at his side. "That's very good news."
"You knew about the Law," Harry reminded her. "And you had eight months."
She scowled at him.
"I couldn't focus on finding a boyfriend with Ron proposing every two days."
Harry sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck.
"He's still mad you said no."
Thank Merlin Ron's turn to choose a date was the following week. Hermione wasn't ready to bear his reproach.
"We wouldn't be happy together, Harry."
Her friend ran a hand through his black hair, ruffling it even more.
"I know."
She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Both Ginny and Harry had spent the last week planning with her how to endure a marriage with Malfoy and all of them were exhausted.
"It's been a tough week. Go home and relax," Harry kissed her forehead and stood up. "We will visit you tonight."
"I'll have a lasagna ready," Hermione got to her feet and nodded. "Tell Ginny to bring something sparkling. I'm in the mood for wine."
His lips twisted into a grimace.
"Five Aurors are already in France looking for him, Hermione."
"Why France?" she asked with worried eyes.
"The Malfoys have a residence in the north of the country," Harry explained in a whisper. "He may be hiding there."
Hermione scoffed.
"We both know he is not that stupid."
Harry sighed and took a step back.
"Don't get your hopes too high," he said as he opened the door. "I'll keep you informed."
She smiled at him.
"Thanks, Harry. See you later."
She waited for a while, taking deep breaths and calming herself.
Hermione stepped out of the room and nodded to the Aurors keeping watch in the corridor. She rode the lift to the Atrium and waited until one of the fireplaces was free.
The flames liked her skin as she stepped inside, whispering the address of her new flat. Crookshanks greeted her with a meow and she smiled, petting his back.
Hermione entered the kitchen, pouring a glass of water from the tap. She went back to the living room and stared out of the window. The soft breeze was blowing the leaves on the branches of the trees as the sun came down, colouring the skies with a rubescent glow.
It was a beautiful day, though she still felt something squeezing her heart. The same thing she felt since she had read his name in that letter.
She imagined a future with him, a life filled with hatred and sorrow.
They would be miserable together and she couldn't endure that.
Her eyes burned as she thought about the two-children requirement.
Fuck. She couldn't bring a child into that. It would be cruel to grow up with parents that loathed each other.
Hermione swallowed hard.
She wasn't ready to be a mother. Not yet.
"Don't let them catch you, Malfoy," she blinked away the tears, gripping the windowsill tighter and glancing up at the purple clouds. "Please."