Hermione got three hours of restless sleep, tops. She couldn't help going over the marriage law in her mind over and over again. Every clause and stipulation had a new and special meaning now that it was linked with Draco Malfoy in her mind. That law was very specific about things like cohabitation, fidelity, copulation.

She could not even reconcile her mind to Draco Malfoy kissing her, much less bedding her. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured it. Draco Malfoy smirking at her before kissing her. His lips cold and hard. His eyes wide open. Barely touching her. How could any reasonable person expect her to be carnal with someone who despised her so much? The thought of sex outside of love was one thing. But the thought of stripping naked for someone who loathed her was aberrant. He thought she was filthy. She couldn't bear it. There was no way she could sign that contract he had drawn up.

She'd gone over it a dozen times holed up in her new space. One of the overflow rooms of Gryffindor tower which had been shut up and locked for years. With so many 7th year repeats they had needed to open up additional spaces and this was one of them. She couldn't find anything inappropriate about the contract. In fact, it was wildly different than she had expected. Not one word about virginity or her dirty blood or her working after marriage. It was actually very reasonable. Not that it mattered. She wasn't signing it. The thought of kissing Malfoy had her in hives, she wasn't about to wed him.

The alternatives were shockingly unappealing. One option was to select a different suitor and sign a different contract. There was a time-span between bids of one hour to give her a short window to select the high bidder before he was outbid. Theoretically, she could wait for one of the other bidders to be on top and sign a contract ending the bidding. Ron didn't have enough, even with Harry's help, to outbid Malfoy even once. She couldn't think of anyone she'd be willing to get naked with who even came close. Option two, abjure her magic. She could have her memory wiped and be returned to the Muggle World. Finally, she could sit on her hands and wait for a better option to present itself.

The last looming hope was repeal.

Finally, she gave up on sleep. The few times she had drifted off her dreams had been full of cold grey eyes and silver blond hair and twisted smirks. She clambered out of her tiny twin bed and scowled around her space, locating her trunk. She was definitely going to miss her luxurious four-poster bed. The overflow room was cramped and small and she had to take an extra thirty stairs just to reach it. Her privacy was not worth the trade in space and comfort. But the school was accommodating nearly double their 7th-year students as best they could.

She had skipped the welcome feast the night before, not wanting to deal with the drama and gossip that was bound to be rampant about this new law. But today she would have to get her routine on. There was an 8:00 mandatory meeting for seventh-year students about the law. Then she wanted to reach out to Malfoy's legal team and set up some meetings. She had a feeling she needed to propose some sort of alternative that would work to achieve the Ministry's goals and at this point, nothing came to her mind. They wanted to wipe out purebloods.

The scale of this law had her chewing her lip and doubting what she could do. The information Malfoy had provided had been quite illuminating. It wasn't just Britain that was involved. The Ministry had coordinated with governments all around the world. She couldn't just up and move to America to avoid the law. It wasn't just her own convoluted government that needed to be persuaded; it was all of them.

Still, she had to start somewhere. So, she gathered up clean robes and her bath things and went on down to the communal bathroom to wash her hair. She had half a mind to run on down to the prefects' bathroom and see if the password had changed since last week...but she wasn't a prefect and it wouldn't be right to use the facility even if she got the door open. She would have to make due with the Gryffindor communal rooms that always smelled a little like mould and hair products.

Freshly scrubbed, she rushed her way downstairs to the dining room, hoping to beat most of Gryffindor to breakfast. They were notoriously late sleepers. She was dismayed however to find the dining hall full of students chattering busily. Obviously, the promise of fresh gossip was enough to pull even the laziest kids from their beds on time.

Before she could make it to the table her arm was taken by none other than Theodore Nott. "Granger," he greeted quite casually. "Could I have a moment of your time?" She slowed and looked up at him quite confused.

"I'm not a prefect this year, Nott, you will need to get someone else to help you."

He laughed, a low amused sound, that put her back up immediately, and she casually removed her arm from his grip. "I'm aware of that Granger. I wanted to give you a copy of the marriage contract my family has submitted to the ministry and see if you could spare some time over lunch this week to meet with my family. It's a little unorthodox, but no one has been able to locate your parents and we are not sure who is representing you legally."

She gaped at him stupidly, trying to process what he had said, but just as she opened her mouth to reply they were joined by Blaise Zabini. "Really Nott? Pouncing on the girl before she has even sat down to breakfast. How uncouth." Blaise gave her a charming smile that had certainly never been levelled in her direction, showing all his teeth. "Miss Granger, may I escort you to breakfast?"

She edged back a bit, thinking she ought to just pop on down to the kitchens for some toast when another person suddenly was crowding in on her left. "Miss Granger," the short bespectacled man reached out and shook her hand quite rudely. "My name is Leland Oswald. I represent the Selwyn estate. My firm has been trying to reach you quite unsuccessfully. I'd like to arrange a meeting as soon as possible. Do you have any openings in your schedule today?"

Hermione was beginning to wonder if she would have to use her wand to get out of this situation when the rather unwelcome drawl of Draco Malfoy came from over her shoulder. "My fiancé's lack of availability due to her excellent security does not give you leave to harass her before breakfast."

Hermione turned a bit to give him a foul look, but he was ignoring her. She was startled to realize just how close he was to her. Just a hairsbreadth behind her, literally looming over her. How had she missed his approach? She was now quite rudely boxed in on all sides and not at all happy. This was a thoroughly insane situation. She glanced over at the staff table and noted that they were watching, but no one had made any move to come to her aid.

"She's accepted your proposal then?" Blaise smirked condescendingly, and Hermione sidestepped away from all of them, trying to edge around the group so she could escape this madness.

"She will." Malfoy gave Blaise one of those cutting cold smiles that made her skin crawl and reached out a hand to stop her retreat. She was so shocked that she stood still and did not jerk her arm free. He was touching her. Draco Malfoy had his hand on her. "Until then you can direct any correspondence to her legal representation, Almond Dippant. If you will excuse us, I believe Miss Granger was trying to get to her breakfast table unmolested."

He pulled her in close to his body, his hip bumping her hip, and pushed right through the crowd roughly, clearing a way for her, his grip on her causing her to trot with him. She stupidly glanced back at her "suitors" and was not at all cheered to see the hateful black stares directed at her and Malfoy.

"What the utter fuck!" She said under her breath, lengthening her stride to keep up with Malfoy who wasn't stopping and wasn't letting go, his grip was gentle but firm and she'd have to twist to get out of it. He slowed a bit, giving her a sidelong glance. The warmth of his fingers bleeding through her robes was shocking. It made sense that he would be warm like any other living person, but she'd always associated him with coldness, pretty like snow, but icy to the touch.

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth," he hissed snidely, his voice pitched not to carry, and she smiled her most obnoxious know-it-all grin back toward him as they arrived at her table. Never had 30 feet been wrought with so much tension and drama. The head table wasn't the only one staring and she wanted to scream at them. Instead, she took a page out of Malfoy's book and tried to be cool and ignore them, twisting towards him to answer his question.

"Twice on Sundays."

He stared at her for a handful of heartbeats. Still touching her, looming. She couldn't remember ever being so close to him outside of a full-on Gryffindor/Slytherin confrontation. And here they were, having a close conversation. As if they knew each other at all. She wanted to step back, gain distance, and repossess her arm. But she didn't want to make a scene or give him the satisfaction of knowing his touch bothered her. The heat of his body stretched across the mere inches between them and the ridiculously lovely scent of his cologne wafted around them.

"See you at 2:00." He finally said and she realized the stretch of time was out of proportion in her mind. No matter. He was releasing her and striding away and the only thing to do was to turn and climb over the bench to join her classmates and have a scone.

"You are marrying Draco Malfoy!" Lavender Brown declared loud enough to be heard quite clearly across three quidditch fields. "Wow! You do move quick."

Hermione was instantly offended by her rude tone, her cattish statement so she rolled her eyes and used her best I'm-better-than-you voice. "I haven't moved anything. This is all news to me as much as any of you. I haven't even spoken to my lawyer yet."

She hated being grateful to the Malfoys for a damn thing but having legal representation made her feel a little less like a small boat in a large ocean. She hadn't planned on going to the consultation at all, now she was literally clinging to that 10:00 appointment like a lifeline.

"Oh, please. Like you did nothing to have all of these rich powerful men courting you?" she scoffed, and Hermione put some jam on her biscuit as she climbed to her feet. Too disgusted to sit at the table any longer.

"Is that what we are calling it? Being courted? Being bid on like chattel and slavered over like a piece of meat is courting now? No thank you. This law is trash and so is anyone who romanticizes it." She tossed the biscuit onto a plate and reached for some bacon and a glass of juice to complete her breakfast as she clambered off the bench seat. She took her breakfast and stomped out of the room, levelling her best glare at anyone who looked like they might approach her.


Much Love to Kessymaniak who was kind enough to go through and Beta this Chapter. Big Thanks!