Sometimes Draco wondered why he worked. No, his family wasn't British royal family rich, but they still had enough that working want a necessity. Draco boiled it down to two things, and one of them was that he needed to be busy. There was nothing good about being idle and it was a complete waste of time. What would he do all day if he didn't work? Read? Watch the garden gnomes make a mess of his mother's favorite flowerbed? It was dreadful simply thinking about it.

The other reason was because he was a skilled wizard and he liked putting those skills to good use. Despite everyone's assumption at Hogwarts that Potions was his favorite subject, it wasn't. It was Charms. Whether it be charms for protection, healing, or memory, Draco was exceptionally proficient in them all. His NEWT scores had allowed him his pick of several departments including those for Magical Law Enforcement. While interesting, he went a different route and instead chose the Department of International Diplomacy. It was as close to politics as one could get without having an official political title. In a nutshell, he got paid to make sure Ministers of Magic played nice with each other. It required high levels of charm, brownnosing, and working with several departments to get the simplest tasks done.

As it stood right now, Draco was helping the Gaming Division set up a Quidditch friendly between Ireland and India. These were always particularly tricky because of transport. Thousands of witches and wizards popping in from hundreds of different locations? It wasn't the location of the Quidditch friendly itself that made it difficult, but rather it was the monitoring of everyone's movements, ensuring proper portkey placement and use, concealing flying routes, and securing apparation spots. Tedious, yes, but it had to get done.

"What the hell happened, Malfoy?!"

No, Draco's door hadn't been locked, but he really didn't think anyone would be bellowing at him prior to 10 a.m. As it turned out, and not very unsurprisingly, Potter would be that person.

Draco sighed, but kept his eyes glued to his work. He had been on an important train of thought, and not even the savior of the wizarding world was going to disturb that.

"Yes, Potter, let's barge right into my office, hm? It's not like I'm busy or anything," Draco drawled as he finished his sentence with the flourish of a fancy cursive curl of the letter "Y." He set his quill aside and finally looked up at the man who had hell's fury in his eyes. While Draco was one hundred percent sure of what the man's problem was, the blond just couldn't help but take the piss anyway.

Draco leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, and grinned. "Problem?"

"You know damn well that there's a problem," Harry sneered as he closed Draco's door. "Hermione got attacked. You promised me that she was safe with you!"

"I wasn't aware that she was dead."

"Malfoy—"

"Hermione's alive and well," Draco interrupted as he brought down his hands and folded them on his lap, "and I bashed my uncle's head in to keep her that way. When I promised to protect her, I meant it."

"Right," Harry huffed and crossed his arms. "Let me ask a question then. What was a renowned Death Eater doing at your Manor?"

"Unscrupulous characters know other unscrupulous characters," Draco shrugged. "We didn't invite Lestrange, and that's what I told the Auror who took my statement. Hermione said the same. I can only assume that one of the guests that we did invite had passed on the information."

"Oh, I know what you told Aurors, but only an idiot would believe you. How could neither you nor your parents know that he was there?"

"There were over a hundred people there. Was I supposed to eyeball every one?" Draco grunted.

"To keep Hermione safe? You should have." Harry shook his head, disappointment lacing his features rather than the anger he had had in the beginning. "I should've known that you didn't care enough about Hermione to—"

"Don't you dare question how much I care about her," Draco icily snapped. His joking demeanor had instantly disappeared, and Harry was met with the coldest stare he'd seen since Voldemort himself. "I care about her more than you or anyone would ever know or even understand. You've got questions about Lestrange? Fine. However, questioning my loyalty to Hermione would be the biggest mistake you ever made in your life."

Harry stood completely lost for words. With the conviction that Draco spoke of Hermione, anyone would say that he loved her, but that was…impossible.

"Anything else to say?" Draco demanded. Harry snapped himself out of his internal thoughts and pursed his lips.

"I'm done for now," Harry replied. "Just know that I'll be watching you, Malfoy."

"Enjoy the view," Draco airily waved. "Kiss my arse on the way out."

What was it like to date Draco Malfoy? Quite simply? It was lovely. Hermione could argue that the curse had something to do with it. Everything the man did and said was like a wave crashing on her heart, but it was the thought put behind Draco's actions that made her think that some part of him wasn't curse-driven.

Their first date after Draco had suggested going on one was as Hermione had expected. It was a restaurant dinner, reserved table away from prying eyes, and they talked about the mundane. The wedding, potential honeymoon destinations, and a plan for house hunting. It was after, however, that Hermione had cherished the most. They went on a walk along a river, silence between them, and enjoying the quiet and the moon's shine. They passed an enchanted set of flowers a few minutes in, and Draco stopped their walk. Without a word he carefully cut one with his wand and handed it to her before taking her hand again and continuing their journey.

Every date went something along those lines. Posh, expensive, and public, and then quiet, intimate, and private. The best part about it all was that it made things between them seem…normal. Hermione supposed that was supposed to be the point, wasn't it? To do something that made this whole disaster turn out for the better? Aside from her and Draco's relationship, she would say that it was working.

The probe into Rodolphus' death didn't last very long —even with Harry poking his nose into it. By the second week after the incident, Aurors were finished. Despite not necessarily being a fan of the Malfoy family, Aurors hated Rodolphus more. A vicious Death Eater was six feet under, so why care? Reporters, not surprisingly, cared quite a bit, and it added to the already scandalous tale of having two notorious enemies wed during this unethical marriage law. Both stories broke at the same time, for Draco and Hermione hadn't been very public with their match until after their engagement party.

Regardless of the entourage of paparazzi, things were still going okay. With Rodolphus' case over and done with it took a weight off of dear Lucius' and Narcissa's shoulders. Despite this, Lucius still shot Hermione a worried glance every now again during the occasional dinner, and it made Hermione smile. No doubt he was still wondering if his son would become privy to the danger that he and his wife had willingly put them in, and to Hermione's delight she would keep him stewing. On the other hand, Narcissa was as happy as she could be as she helped Hermione plan for the wedding. By late November, the brunette was able to give her future mother-in-law her guest list which, happily, included the Weasleys in addition to her own family. It had taken sporadic and awkward conversations with Ron and Ginny to get the ball rolling on that front, but it worked regardless.

By mid-December, Hermione and Draco had settled on a house that consisted of four bedrooms, just as Hermione had requested as recompense for making her go through with that engagement party. Still, she thought it to be too much, but she had fallen in love with the house anyway. Much like Malfoy Manor, it was secluded. While not ideal, Hermione understood the need for privacy with their magical affliction requiring as little eyes on them as possible. The home sat in the middle of a clearing of woods that was massive enough so that it didn't feel claustrophobic. The best part about it was that the home from drivable off of a lightly-travelled main road —perfect for Hermione's parents when they wanted to visit.

Draco had promised her to hire a landscaper to create a garden similar to the one at Malfoy Manor. By April, it was finished. Draco had also commissioned work to be done to the route from the road to their house. While dark and a tad ominous no matter the time the time of day, the trees that lined the road would now forever stay in bloom —the color of their pink flowers enhanced with charms and concealed from muggles not related to Hermione by blood.

The best part about these few months was that neither Hermione nor Draco had had a bout of insanity. No voices. No hallucinations. They just…lived. That certainly helped with the calm that had settled over Hermione's life, but as the month of May reared and the days ticked by, that calm had begun to fizzle. Her wedding was three days away. It wasn't the wedding per se that had the brunette's mind in a haze. Narcissa was quite the party planner and she had every detail for the wedding more than well-handled. As the matriarch told her the closer the wedding date came, the only thing that Hermione had to worry about was walking down the aisle. "Just smile and enjoy your day," Narcissa had told her as the month began. While Narcissa wasn't on the top of Hermione's favorite persons' list, she could at least appreciate the woman's efforts in soothing her. Even if she didn't genuinely care for Hermione, the wedding was Draco's too, and Narcissa would do anything to make sure that it went off without a hitch.

Perhaps that was why Hermione's anxiety was swirling. Her bachelorette party was the one thing that Narcissa hadn't planned —nor would she participate in. It was Daphne's doing. Yes, Daphne. Since the engagement party, Daphne had become the friend that Hermione didn't know she needed. None of Hermione's core group of friends knew how to navigate the pureblood side of life. Draco did, of course, but he didn't advise her from the point of viewpoint of a friend, whereas Daphne did. The witch was now in Hermione's bridal party (much to Ginny's disgruntled nature) along with Luna. The bachelorette party, on the other hand, would include a few other witches —namely Pansy and Millicent. It was a hodgepodge that screamed danger! but Daphne would hear none of it. Neither would Draco.

"It'll be fine," he chuckled as he lay on the bed and watched Hermione pack a few essential items into a small trunk. All of the things she needed for the wedding—like her wedding dress —was already at the chateau Narcissa had rented. "Daphne already told you that she planned something low-key."

"Low-key," Hermione snorted. "This is the same woman who can drink down a bottle of scotch and walk straight. Somehow I think she'll manage to put a spin on things."

Draco opened his mouth to rebut his fiancée, but he quickly realized that he wasn't sure if he'd be honest in his response. Daphne was a poised and dignified witch with the impulsivity and recklessness of a man. It was quite the admiring amalgamation of traits —or so Theo once said. With that in mind, Draco was now sure that the blonde had at least one trick or two up her sleeve. Considering that this bachelorette party was a three-day affair, beginning with tonight, there was bound to be mischief. At least three strippers, but Merlin forbid more…

"Draco, did you hear me?"

Draco blinked. Hermione had finished packing, her trunk by the bedroom door, and she was standing beside him as she watched him with a curious expression and tilt of her head. He coughed to cover himself, but failed miserably.

"Sorry."

He was flustered, Hermione noticed, and she sat down on the bed's edge close enough for Draco to rest his hand on her thigh. Such a small action it was, but she loved the touches of intimacies he consistently showed her.

"Daphne could have one hundred exotic male dancers there, and it wouldn't matter." Hermione chuckled at Draco's grimace, but his face calmed when she touched his cheek. "It wouldn't matter because you're the only man that I'm obsessed with."

"Romantic, yet macabre at the same time," he replied with a curl of his lips. "An interesting combination, don't you think?"

"Perhaps, but I stopped thinking about that long ago."

Draco's smile fully showed then, for he knew just how true that was. "Have fun," he said eventually as he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead, "but not too much."

"Likewise. I haven't forgotten that Theo's throwing you a bachelor party."

"I'll only be in trouble if any of the witches look like you," Draco cheekily replied. Hermione playfully slapped him on the arm while he laughed. His joyous ruckus nearly obscured the bell that rang in the air to let them know that someone had Flooed in. Granted, the screech that came from a certain blonde captured their attention well enough. So did her knock on their bedroom door.

"Come on then, Draco!" Daphne called from behind the door. "You're going to have the rest of your life to stick your prick in the witch. She's mine now."

Draco shook his head and sighed before carefully swinging his legs onto the floor and making it to the door. Daphne stood on the other side with a cheeky grin and her arms crossed.

"Evening, Mr. Malfoy," Daphne happily greeted.

"Mrs. Nott," Draco nodded to her. "I must admit that I'm a bit worried about how enthusiastic you are on kidnapping my fiancée."

"Oh, don't worry your blond little head," she giggled before shouldering her way partially into the bedroom. "I promise that she'll still be marrying you by the end of it all. Ready to go, Hermione?"

"I am," Hermione said as she walked over. "Ginny and Luna should be taking the portkey any moment now."

"Great! Let's get going then. The debauchery starts tonight!"

Draco's jaw slackened, but Hermione's finger closed his mouth as she passed him and stood in the doorway as Daphne left the bedroom. She kissed him then, her heart feeling heavy at knowing that she wasn't going to see him for three days.

"Don't miss me too much," she joked.

"Impossible," he answered before gently pushing her out the door and handing over her trunk. Hermione gave him one last look before hearing the banshee call of Daphne who was still waiting for her.

"You know, for two people who were arranged by the government to marry, you sure don't act like it," Daphne teased as she stood by the fireplace. "I suppose the Ministry didn't cock up too badly in the matching process."

"Oh no, they did," Hermione corrected, "but by some miracle it's been…nice."

"That blush in your cheeks suggests something a bit more than nice," Daphne chuckled. "Come on, let's go."

Hermione resisted the urge to blush even more as she and Daphne entered the fireplace with their luggage and were whisked away. Daphne had utterly refused to tell Hermione where they were going, but when the pair exited the fireplace the blonde was forgiven.

Where they were had a renaissance feel with the ceiling painted with replicas of the Sistine Chapel. The walls were made of marble, not to mention the floor, and there stood a statue of Aphrodite in the middle of the lobby with a pool of water surrounding her.

"Welcome to Lockhart Spa," Daphne announced.

"Lockhart?" Hermione repeated as she hefted her trunk closer to her side. "As in Gilderoy Lockhart?"

"The very same. Makes sense, doesn't it? Build a place that emphasizes beauty and self-indulgence that wizards can enjoy? Lockhart sure knows how to capitalize on vanity —before he went insane, anyway."

"Hermione! Over here!"

Hermione turned to the happy, sing-song voice that had called out to her. It came from Luna, arm-in-arm with Ginny, merrily skipping instead of walking. Ginny appeared to be exasperated, but that was either due to the energetic witch at her side, or at the prospect of the company she'd be keeping for the next few days. It was a tossup really.

"Damn, Greengrass is putting my own bachelorette party to shame," Ginny mused as she looked around her. Hermione laughed as she hugged her and Luna in turn.

"It's Nott now," Daphne amended with a smug grin, "but thank you. You spend your entire life with a mother who hosts an event at home every weekend and you learn a thing or to. Come along then. The den of sin is waiting for us all upstairs."

"Aren't we waiting for Pansy and Millicent?" Hermione asked.

Daphne chuckled and pulled out her wand to levitate all of their trunks. "Who do you think is keeping watch over the chaos?"

"Chaos?" Luna repeated with a tilt of her head. She then whispered for both Hermione and Ginny to hear, "There must be a lot of nargles up there. Can you imagine?"

Hermione could imagine many things, but nargles wasn't one of them. Regardless, she let Luna hook her arms with herself and Ginny, their trunks levitating behind them all. There were elevators up ahead big enough to fit them all and their things. Daphne had pressed the top button labeled PH which Hermione assumed meant penthouse.

"I made the reservation under Pansy's name so that she could check in and get everything set up," Daphne declared. Hermione had opened her mouth to ask exactly what was being set up, but her words died in her throat.

"Bleeding hell…" Ginny breathed. "Of all the times to be married."

"Welcome to paradise, ladies," Daphne exclaimed.

Draco would pitch a fit, Hermione thought, and she thanked Merlin that he wouldn't be aware of what Daphne had set up. True to the name of Lockhart Spa, the three women had walked into an enormous living space with spa chairs designed for proper pedicures, manicure stations, massages, and facials. What was different about this, however, was that every station was manned by just that. Men. Men clad in underwear that left barely anything to the imagination and nothing else.

"And which one of you is the bride to be?" a man who came out of nowhere from the right asked. Amusingly, he had a Gryffindor tie hung loosely around his neck, and were it not for the brown hair, he could have been Draco's twin. Thank Merlin for the differentiation.

"She is," Luna said brightly as she pointed to Hermione. The brunette felt her eyes widen, but she quickly corrected it with a clearing of her throat.

"Y-yes, that's me. It's me," she replied awkwardly.

"Very good. My name is Lucas," he smiled —perfectly, and with a velvet tone eerily similar to that of Rodolphus, but, thankfully, less menacingly. "I'll be your personal attendant for the next few days. If there's anything that you need, all you have to do is ask."

"Well then, thank you," Hermione grinned. "In that case, do you mind taking my trunk and showing me to my room?"

"Of course."

"And while he's doing that, I'll show you two," Daphne said to Ginny and Luna, "to yours. Oh, Lucas, where are Pansy and Millicent?"

"With Michael and Nikolai. They're getting body treatments."

Daphne laughed at that, muttering a soft, "Of course they are," before heading towards a different hall than the one Hermione was being led. Hermione's room was down a hall to the right. A master bedroom, it seemed, as the room was the size of her living room. It held a king size bed, a beautiful bureau with a mirror attached, a drawer, an armoire, and a lovely chaise with matching armchair. To her delight, there was also a bookshelf to their left, and she suddenly wished she was here alone so she could get cozy in bed with one of the books.

"I'll let you get settled, and then we can get started on the spa treatment of your life," Lucas told her as he set her trunk by the door. "Would you like anything in the meantime?"

"No, thank you, but…I do have a question," Hermione pointed to the tie before asking, "Daphne's idea?"

Lucas smiled and chuckled, but he shook his head. "Miss Parkinson's actually. She thought that you might get a kick out of it."

"Right," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, if you're going to wear that, you'd might as well wear it right."

While a simple fashion accessory, Hermione had grown to appreciate them. Draco had quite the selection of ties to match any ensemble, and one of her new routines as of late were putting them on him. Draco would find her, whether it be after her shower, as she was making breakfast, or as soon as she woke up, hold a tie in his hand and let her fix it for him. Because of him, Hermione had become a tie aficionado and perfectionist.

Hermione placed her hands on Lucas' tie and adjusted it so it no longer hung haphazardly and instead went up to his throat. A quick jiggle to get the knot to the dip in his neck, but it still didn't seem perfect.

"Careful there," Lucas cleared his throat and added a teasing smile. "Don't want to make it too tight."

Hermione briefly looked up from her task, her hands still on the tie, but the rest of her attention focused on Lucas. "No," she agreed as she continued tinkering with the red and gold knot, "we wouldn't want you to choke, would we?"

A low rumble vibrated in Lucas throat, the feel tingling Hermione's fingers as she pushed up the knot with one hand and held onto the rest of with her other. Lucas' laugh turned into a cough, and once again he reminded her not to make it too tight. His words, however, fell on deaf ears. Hermione drew the tie tighter and Lucas' coughing grew louder. The playfulness that he had was gone and replaced with concern. She heard him call her name, yes, but she was lost. Too focused with the way Lucas' brows furrowed, his eyes widening, and the sound of him gasping for air that he couldn't find. He soon brought his hands up to grip her own, but Hermione swiftly kneed him in groin, bringing him down to his own knees. He opened his mouth to try to scream, but she only pulled on the tie with more force, and watched the light leave his eyes.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione blinked. Her vision was blurred at first, but the second blink put things in perspective. Lucas wasn't dead. He was still standing, the tie no longer loose, but not choking him as she had envisioned. Her hands were still on the tie, but she quickly drew them to her body and took a step back.

"Are you alright?" Lucas asked, but Hermione quickly shook off her discomfort, plastered the fakest smile she could muster, and nodded.

"Fine, fine, perfectly okay," Hermione reassured him. "There wouldn't happen to be a nearby owl, would there?"

"Yes. Mrs. Nott figured that you might want to write to your fiancé while you were here. Your personal owlery is right through that door."

Lucas pointed to the door to the right of the entrance, and Hermione thanked him for showing it to her. He left soon after that and closed the door behind him. Once he was gone, Hermione dashed her way into the owlery —twice the size of a broom cupboard and appropriate for a single person's use. There was an owl and plenty of stationary for her use, and she hastily grabbed a bit of parchment, a quill, and messily dipped it into a small pot of ink. Droplets trailed from the ink pot to the parchment, but Hermione didn't care.

We have a problem. I'll Floo you tonight when everyone's asleep.

Hermione xx

Hermione attached the note to the owl's leg and sent it off. From where she stood she could hear Ginny outside of her bedroom, telling her to join the fun so that she and Luna "wouldn't be outnumbered by Slytherins." Part of her wanted to do that. She wanted to pretend that the last few moments hadn't happened so that she could enjoy her bachelorette party in peace. Another part of her wanted to stay in her bedroom, afraid that she would dissociate and actually cause harm instead of imagining it. The remaining part of her, and the scariest part, wanted Lucas to return so that she could kill him for real.

Hermione wondered just which part of her would win out.

Author's note: HELLO! First, I hope everyone is staying safe with the chaos out in the world. Macabre probably isn't the genre everyone is gearing towards at this time, but if so, here ya go. Fun fact about the ties, that was inspired a bit from my boyfriend. He has (and I'm not exaggerating) 60+ ties in his wardrobe collection and it's impressive as heck lol.

Stay safe. I'm praying for everyone, and myself, daily. Hope you're able to do something constructive while we're all practicing social distancing. *HUGS*

-WP