Sold-Chapter 29-Rejection and Matchmaking

By Marmalade Fever

"Well?" Malfoy asked, looking suddenly nervous. "What do you say?"

Hermione took a deep, calming breath. "Are you out of your mind? No! I am not marrying you!"

Malfoy frowned. "Perhaps I should explain a few things."

"Such as?" she asked, slightly hysterical.

"Granger," he shook his head, "Hermione, stop and think for a moment, will you? I plan to stay here, with you, pretending to be married for a very, very long time. I'm not going to find anyone. You're not going to find anyone. Why not marry one another? Did you or did you not confess only minutes ago that you like me?"

Hermione stayed resolute. "I believe my exact words to be, 'I was starting to like you,' as in, I don't anymore."

Malfoy looked somewhat forlorn. "Are you sure? Have you forgotten the results of the love muffins so quickly? Romantic love, affection… wedding bells!"

"Dislike," Hermione added, grumpily.

"Hermione," he said, again using her first name, "the last few days… I've had this feeling. I look at you and I try to tell myself that you look like a wasted, old crone… but it's a lie. I'm attracted to you. Do you know what that means? I'm never attracted to anyone! At least, no much."

Hermione scoffed. "Like I care?"

Malfoy smirked. "I saw the way your eyes lit up when my counterpart said he was an author. It was like you were thinking… that I had possibilities." He paused. "Come to the library with me? I saw something in there you might want to see." He offered her a hand and she grumpily took it as he led her off toward the library. He held her hand delicately, as if afraid to squeeze it. He opened the door for her and led her to a bookshelf. He used a summoning charm to get a book from the top shelf. "Here," he said, handing it to her. "It has a charm on it, so no one under twenty-five can read it. Probably to prevent Evander from learning too much too soon."

Hermione took the book from him and gazed in wonder at it. "Courting Miss Granger," by Draco Malfoy. "He… wrote a book… on how they got together?" Hermione said slowly, flipping it open.

"So it would seem," Malfoy said, nodding. "I found it while I was researching trans-dimensional summoning charms. Not bad, either. I read some."

Hermione flipped through and read a few odd bits. Who knew that Draco Malfoy could write? She found a passage in a chapter in which he'd described her as an angel and she allowed a small smile to grace her features. A few pages later she stumbled across a kissing scene and quickly snapped the book closed.

"Well?" Malfoy asked, taking the book away from her and flipping through it himself.

"Well, what? This doesn't prove anything, Malfoy. You are no longer the same person as the author of this book… and goodness knows that I'm no longer the same as his subject." She crossed her arms and stared resolutely into his eyes. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to reject your generous offer."

Malfoy frowned. "May I say one last thing?"

"You're the one with the wand, Malfoy. Not me."

Malfoy stretched to his full height, towering over her. "Hermione Granger, you infuriate me like no other."

"Is that the best you've got?" she asked.

"No," he said simply. He pushed her against the bookshelf and leaned forward and whispered, "I've got this." And their lips met in perfect unison.

…

Draco led Hermione down the familiar, yet oddly darker, path to the Malfoy Manor. Everything was so much more… shadowy, for the lack of a better word. It seemed as if it took forever for them to reach the edge of the forest and emerge onto the elder Malfoys' property. Draco had at first wanted to simply apparate onto the front lawn, but Hermione had been quick to remind him that his parents didn't know that she was a Malfoy, so it would never do for them to catch her successfully arriving in such a manner. Besides, Harry was with them.

"This feels so much like that first time we came here… for your birthday," Hermione muttered. Draco smiled.

"You were as lovely then as you are now," he said, flattering her as best he could.

"Really? Even though I'm now at a horribly old age and have short hair?"

"Come, come, dearest. You're hair's not that bad." He winked. Hermione punched him gently in the arm. "And I suppose you're not that old either."

"That's better," Hermione said, rubbing at the spot she'd punched him to show that all had been forgiven. A few paces behind them, Harry watched in slight disgust at their loving display.

"And here we are… at the Malfoy Manor," Draco said. An idea occurred to him and he reached into his pocket for a spare wand he'd found in the other Draco's desk. "Now you can be my prisoner," he jested.

"Right you are," Hermione said, as her husband knocked on the large ornate doors. A moment later a little elf greeted them and Hermione had to pretend as if she weren't familiar with the elf.

"Right this way, Master Draco, Miss." The elf led them up several flights and into one of the many dining rooms. (The house was just that huge.)

"Ah, so you made it?" Lucius Malfoy said, looking both pleased and somewhat ill at the same time. "Sit down, Draco… you too…" he added, gesturing to Hermione. "Your mother will be here in a moment… her health."

Draco nodded somberly. Narcissa Malfoy arrived a minute later via levitation, much to weak to walk. When she caught sight of Hermione she smiled genuinely. "Draco, come, give your mother a kiss." Draco rose hesitantly and did as he was told. "So this is your…" she gazed off, as if trying to think of a proper word, "new companion?"

Lucius scoffed slightly and muttered something like, "Companion… acquisition… humbug."

Draco nodded. "Mother, this is Hermione Granger," he said, trying his best to sound as if he were only feigning politeness.

"Come here, girl, let me take a look at you," Narcissa said, extending her arms to Hermione. Hermione placed her hands into Narcissa's. "You have… such excellent skin," she muttered. "Nice high cheek bones… good. Extremely curly hair… that's not so bad, I suppose. Brown eyes, brown hair… it will have to do…" Narcissa smiled at Hermione again before saying in a voice that sounded as if it were meant for either someone very deaf or very young, "You're very pretty."

"Thank you," Hermione said, half-smiling, half-grimacing at the strange appraisal. She returned to her seat beside Draco.

Draco remained silent, very unsure of how his counterpart would react in such a situation. Narcissa continued, now directing a line of questioning to him. "She's smart, is she not?"

Draco nodded. "So smart, in fact, I think she's perfectly capable of answering your questions herself, Mother."

Narcissa frowned. "Yes, I suppose, Draco. Miss Granger, I wonder… have you any hereditary diseases in your family?"

Hermione blinked. "Not to my knowledge, Mrs. Malfoy," she said.

"Really?" she asked. "How did your parents die?"

Hermione had to catch herself. She was thinking of her parents back in her own world, who were both perfectly alive and well. "Muggle persecution," she answered simply, hoping that this was the truth.

Narcissa smiled before asking a very impolite question. "Are you fertile?"

Hermione blanched and choked on a sip of water. "I… believe so," she said, unconsciously patting her not-yet-rounded, pregnant belly. Off in the corner of the room, Lucius continued to roll his eyes.

"Excellent, excellent!" Narcissa clapped her hands and food appeared on the table. "Draco, I approve of Miss Granger."

Hermione pretended to not know what was happening and turned what she hoped were confused eyes on Draco. "Er," he responded, smirking.

Narcissa, after a long draught of water, continued. "Draco, I suggest the two of you… try to get to know one another." Lucius laughed haughtily into his food. Narcissa turned disapproving eyes on him. "You know what I want, Draco," she continued, still staring at Lucius. "I do not care whether you marry," she muttered at last, "but I want her pregnant, do you understand?" Hermione pretended to look shocked, which she was, and stared at Narcissa as if she'd sprouted another head.

"Excuse me?" she asked, raising her voice. "Don't I have a say in this? Or even Draco, for that matter?"

Narcissa turned scathing eyes on her. "Draco has had his chance to remarry. As for you… there are no rights for filthy mudbloods." She shook, her illness becoming more apparent. "I want to live to see my grandchild! There is no time to waste!"