Disclaimer: Of course, these lovely characters do not belong to me. I do borrow them for a new idea.
Good morning, darling!
April 1998
When she awoke, she felt different. The pain was mostly gone. To her surprise, she could not only feel bandages, but also a soft gown that was covering her. A peaceful feeling filled her, as she could only imagine Harry and Ron had been able to rescue her after all and nurtured her back to health now. She fully expected Mrs. Weasley to rush a hearty meal into the room before she would be able to fully wake up.
A soft smile settled on her lips. She proceeded to check the functioning of her body and determined the pain level of some of the more severe injuries. Suddenly, she became aware that someone had been holding her hand this whole time. She gave it a squeeze to be sure she wasn't imagining things. As she opened her eyes, she expected it to be Ron, Harry or one of the other Weasleys to be sitting there, only to be greatly disappointed.
"Good morning, darling."
Irritation swept over her. How dared he to address her like that. Of course, she could have done worse when it came to Death Eaters, but he abruptly ended her hope of being saved. She tried to pull her hand out of his grip, but he didn't let go.
"Roks." She watched as he called the name into nowhere and with a crack a house-elf appeared, bowing deeply before Draco. "Notify my mother that she is awake and bring a light meal."
The elf bowed even deeper before he disappeared. When Malfoy looked back up, he could see the anger in her eyes. Her disapproving of enslaving the elves had been a widely known fact in Hogwarts. Not that Malfoy had ever cared. It was part of his life and she hadn't been, until now that was.
"You are going to love this."
"I'm going to love what?" She managed to spat the words at him with almost as much despise as she wanted to. The bitter chuckle he gave as an answer, irritated her even more. Once again she pulled at her hand as she set up against the pillows, but he didn't let go.
She glared at him in frustration but wasn't able to say anything else before Roks appeared with a tray. Waiting for an approving nod by Malfoy he levitated it on Hermione's lap.
"Is there anything else Roks can do for Mistress Malfoy?"
It took a moment for Hermione to notice that the elf was looking at her. Her eyes turned confused as she scanned the room once again for Draco's mother.
"He is talking to you." Malfoys cold voice cut through the silence. She stared at him, then at the elf, and finally back to him. When she didn't address the elf, the creature became worried.
"Did Roks make a mistake?"
Malfoy sighed in frustration, before turning to the elf.
"No, he didn't. That would be all."
Draco certainly wasn't friendly with his elves, but his voice was leveled and indicated that indeed the elf had done nothing to offend. He watched as the elf disappeared and took the time to stare at the empty spot for a moment before turning back to Hermione.
"Malfoy, what am I going to love?" She had gone back to his original statement, before they had been interrupted, choosing to ignore the weird addressing of the elf towards her. Her eyes were already shooting daggers at him.
"You know how you ran around Hogwarts, trying to free the elves?"
"I was there for that, yes."
"Well, you own about 20 of them now."
She was so perplexed that she even forgot to glare at him. The information he had just given her was not making any sense to her. How long had she even been passed out? Her eyes darted back to Malfoy, as her mind had made up about twenty questions to ask him.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Again he used his leveled voice, knowing that the fight would come soon enough.
"Your mother tucking me in."
Draco laughed at her phrasing, again it was bitter more than anything. His mother had certainly not tucked anyone in since he himself had been at a very young age. He couldn't even remember the last time that had happened.
"Well at the same time the Dark Lord told us what he had planned."
"And what would that be?" She spat, growing impatient with him not offering all the information at once.
"You can imagine he was quite upset for us Malfoys to let Potter escape." He waited for her to nod, but as she didn't he continued. "Well, we weren't in good standing with him as it was and, therefore, he decided to punish us."
Hermione stared at him, willing him to keep speaking without her having to drag every word out of him. He was still not making any sense to her.
"Oh for Merlin's beard, will you just go on…" She finally grabbed a piece of buttered toast, Roks had brought.
"He decided the Malfoy bloodline was no longer worthy to be considered pure and to make sure we didn't get away after all he had us married last night." His face was grim and the last few words he almost spat at her.
It took a moment for them to sink in. Individually they made sense, but as they slowly were put together in her mind, they made less and less sense. She tried to swallow her toast, but of course, it went the wrong way and she began to cough. She used her free hand to clap on her chest, as that would really help and continued to cough. He simply watched as she finally wiped a small tear, caused by the tumult in her throat, before she addressed him.
"What do you mean he had us married?"
"Roks did indeed mean you when he addressed Mistress Malfoy. You are my wife now."
How he could speak so calmly was beyond her.
"I was passed out. The last time I saw you, you were cowardly turning away from your aunt torturing me. There is no way we are married." Her voice became shriller with every word. Death caused by Bellatrix suddenly became a much more likable option for her, than wanting to continue with his reality.
"It's not like I asked for this, Granger." His tone finally had turned to the usual hostile edge he had reserved for her and her friends specifically. It had been mostly his father's mistakes over the years and most recently his aunts that had led him to this moment.
"It doesn't matter, I was passed out. I didn't agree to this." She could see the impatience grow in the depth of his eyes before his cold voice sounded again.
"The words in the binding of a couple in this particular ceremony are only for the bystanders. The most important part is the combing of a drop of blood from the bride and groom and you didn't have to be awake for that." On the contrary, having her asleep had made the brink to her finger a lot easier.
"Why didn't he just kill me?"
Draco didn't answer. Of course, he wasn't sure, if she was even wanting an answer. Then again he knew she would be even more upset when he told her: shaming the Malfoys had somehow surpassed the pureblood ideology as well as killing a muggle-born.
"There was no blood involved when Bill and Fleur got married." It was more a mumble to herself.
"Who?" An annoyed glare hit him, as he dared to ask. She answered non the less.
"Ron's oldest brother and his wife." She noticed how his face turned in disgust as it always had around a Weasley, but he didn't say anything. She fought through her memories of the wedding before the Death Eaters had arrived to destroy everything. She thought of the beautiful vows, the ceremonial part, but nowhere there was blood to be found.
"It's a special bond." He finally offered. "Old pureblood thing, I'm sure the Weasleys wouldn't be fond of it."
She huffed, before returning her glare to her face and directing it towards him.
"It's meant to enforce perfect loyalty."
"What do you mean?"
Malfoy sighed. He had hoped that the know-it-all Hermione Granger had somehow, somewhere read about traditional weddings before. That would have made this conversation a lot shorter.
"You can't betray or kill me, no matter how much you want to." He glanced at his hand that still had a firm grip around hers. He was instructed to hold it as long as possible to ensure the vow from working since it wasn't very likely for her to agree to consummate their marriage anytime soon. However, the more information he gave her, the more likely she was trying to kill him.
Hermione on the other hand huffed at his notion. "You can't be serious. I will never side with you."
"It's not like I asked you too. Remember you are supposed to ruin my family's perfect bloodline and be a punishment for our wrongdoings." His father's wrongdoings to be more exact. After all, Dumbledore at least was dead, even if it hadn't specifically been him.
"How is it my fault your lot can't seem to please him?" She bid back at him.
"Would you rather have aunt Bella torture you to death? Because I assure you, she is still willing to." He didn't even mean to turn this cruel, but between annoying him and his whole situation, he simply couldn't help himself.
"Actually that does sound pretty amazing now." Her eyes were once again shooting daggers at him. "And let go of my hand. I'm not some priced cow you need to handle on a rope."
Neither of them had noticed how their argument had turned into yelling, as they became more heated. They also didn't notice Narcissa enter the room.
"He will not and that is no way of talking to your husband…" Hermione saw a small smirk form on Draco's lips. "Or your wife for that matter." The smirk was gone as fast as it had come.
"Yes, mother."
"Has she agreed?" Narcissa acted like Hermione wasn't in the room now and addressed her son directly, who now shook his head.
"Agreed to what?"
"The marriage." The older witch offered, before waving her wand to pull another chair up by the bed.
"You said, I didn't have to." Her accusing glare once again rested on Malfoy, however, there was a tiny bit of triumph forming in her. After all, it appeared he had been wrong about this whole marriage business. Before he could respond himself, his mother did.
"You don't. It simply makes your life easier, if you did." Her tone was as cold as the one her son always seemed to use on Hermione, however, there was less hate that swung along.
"I don't understand."
"That's a first." His snorted comment now earned him a glare from both women in the room.
"When did you take the mudblood's side?" His accusing tone had something of a child who now had to share his most loved toy.
"When she became your wife and I forbid you to call her that."
Hermione could feel how his grip on her hand loosened and for the shortest moment she was sure, he would let go and storm out, but under the pointed look of his mother, he didn't. His grip became firm once again and he used his other hand to massage his temple and closed his eyes.
"As Dracos wife you have certain responsibilities. As he might have informed you, the bind will force you to be loyal to him and you won't be able to hurt him or engage in other romantic relations for that matter." She watched as Hermione opened her mouth, but then couldn't choose between the many questions and retorts she had. So she closed it.
"As the blood ceremony took place while you were healing from your injuries you have no choice but obliged to that part of the marriage."
"I was passed out. No court will accept this nonsense." She missed Dracos smirk, as she was focused on Narcissa's face, who simply rolled her eyes.
"This marriage was ordered by the Dark Lord, what makes you think, any court can change what happened? He controls the only one that would really matter." That alone would have been enough to silence her, but Narcissa was a Malfoy after all so she continued: " I haven't seen your amazing friends yet to rescue you. Maybe my sister's knife did more damage than she ever intended."
Hermione drew in another labored breath. She had no idea what it was that Narcissa meant with the knife. After all, she had been passed out for most of the attempted rescue mission. Instead, her eyes wandered to the scarlet shining letters on her arm. Also created by the mentioned knife.
She could only imagine what would happen if she tried to go against whatever crazy plan Voldemort had her involved in now. As she stared at the letters her brain finally located the most pointed source of pain that she was still experiencing.
She heard Draco clear his voice before she could start to dwell on it more.
"I believe what mother was going to tell you was that there are also rights to your role as …" he hesitated, not being able to push the words over his lips. She still stared at him, as his mother finished the sentence.
"As Draco's wife, you are granted certain protections. My dear sister, in fact, cannot harm you, at least as long as Draco doesn't want her to." Narcissa seemed to have found her composed exterior again. "There is some more to it, however, this part is not enforced by the Dark Lords bind, it's based on old Malfoy rituals and will only become binding if you agree to be his wife."
