I'm sorry this has taken so long I had a mental block over one or two sentences in this chapter and it took ages to clear. The next chapter is already written though so it won't be as long for the next update.

This chapter hasn't been beta'd so please feel free to review/private message me with typos.

Hermione was seated at the table at the Burrow, finishing the remains of her breakfast, book propped up on the honey pot. Ron came down the stairs, bleary eyed and slid into the seat opposite. They smiled sheepishly at one another for a moment, suddenly shy. The summer had been and gone since their betrothal and although they saw each other from time to time now – their family and friends had all stopped carrying on the pretence to each of them that the other didn't exist and now expected them to behave well enough to be in the same room as each other without hexes flying – they were still acting almost like strangers thrown together by circumstance. Nothing of their past was ever mentioned by either of them for fear of breaking the fragile veneer of peace that lay between them. Hermione had been wedding dress shopping for Ginny the day before and had been persuaded to sleep over so they could continue the planning.

"How did," "What are," they both spoke at the same time. He grinned at her and gestured for her to go first but they were both distracted by a noise at the open window and turned their heads to see two owls fly in. One dropped off today's edition of the Daily Prophet on the table before exiting as smoothly as it had come, and the other, Hermione was surprised to see, landed in front of her

She gave the owl a small scrap of bacon rind from her plate and he nibbled it gratefully as she untied the parchment. With trepidation she eased her finger under the regulation green wax seal belonging to missives from the ministry of magic.

From the Betrothals and Marriages Office, Repopulation Department

Dear Hermione Granger

It has come to the attention of the Repopulation Department that a small number of muggle born witches are attempting to avoid the newly introduced Marriage law by entering into sham betrothals.

We have received evidence that your betrothal to Ronald Weasley may have been falsified for this purpose and therefore we would be within our rights to void the match. However, if you wish to appeal against this, it would be appreciated if you and your betrothed present yourselves to the Repopulation Department of the Betrothals and Marriages Office at 2pm tomorrow.

Yours Sincerely

Delores Umbridge, Minister for Repopulation

"Umbridge is behind this?" Hermione exclaimed shrilly. Harry raised his eyebrows at her and she passed the parchment over to him wordlessly.

"Ron, we need to get ready, we have to go to the ministry tomorrow. We need to prepare" Hermione was working herself up into the sort of tizzy that hadn't been seen since she sat her NEWTS.

Arthur looked up, concerned, "What is it?"

"A scroll from Umbridge! Did you know she was running the Repopulation Office now? It says they think the betrothal is a sham and we need to present ourselves and appeal it or they'll void it and match me with some pureblood I shouldn't wonder," she turned her attention to Ron who was strangely silent.

"Ronald, are you even listening, we're going to have to go to the Betrothals and Marriages Office at 2 o clock tomorrow to tell them how in love we are!"

"But we submitted the papers in time, you two have taken care to be seen out together, I don't understand what's caused this?" Arthur mused, scanning the scroll Harry had passed on to him.

Ron looked up, his face like thunder, his eyes blue chips of ice boring into Hermione, "I think this might have something to do with it," and flung the Prophet across the table into her plate. In open mouthed horror, she watched a photographic image of herself strolling hand in hand with Draco Malfoy, play out over the page and read the headline Golden Love Trio – War Heroine Hermione Granger is seen out with known Death Eater Draco Malfoy. What will her fiancé say?

She swallowed hard as her heart tried to beat out of her chest and her throat threatened to clamp shut over the image of herself, clearly laughing at something Draco had said. She recognised it as the night that they had been to Spagnolio's - their first date, if that had been what it was.

"You and Malfoy?" Ron seemed incapable of more than a rough whisper.

"It's an old picture," Hermione's voice was pleading. There was a smaller photo of her and Ron at the memorial event further down the page. The words of the article blurred in front of her eyes.

"So it's over? At least tell me it's over with him. You're not seeing him any more?"

Hermione's eyes just dropped to her lap. She couldn't bring herself to say anything. A dull flush rose to her cheeks, giving the answer she dared not voice. She had been seeing Draco regularly. Never out in public obviously. And he never mentioned whether he had realised what she was talking about or asked again. But he would owl her to visit him at his house and they would check on the potion, arguing whether the addition or subtraction of one ingredient or another, or stirring a different way, would make a difference. Or he would turn up at hers, bringing oak matured mead, or flowers from his mother's garden, or the little pastries from the bakery in Hogsmeade that she adored. And he would try to get her to let go of the threads of restraint that she was hanging on to when it came to him. So far he had for the most part, failed, a strange sense of loyalty to Ron always stopping her. Part of her knew he was only doing it because he hated it when he couldn't get his own way but she could never quite seem to tell him to stop.

"Merlin, Hermione!" Ron's chair scraped back as he exploded with rage. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Harry and Arthur exchange an awkward glance. "You and Malfoy? You and that bloody ferret, of all people! What the hell were you thinking?"

"It's no different from you and Lav Lav, making fools of yourselves at that gala," poison dripped from her voice as she sneered the name of her erstwhile love rival, "it's no different to you and all the other sluts you're always in the paper with!" she was standing too now, although she didn't remember doing it, yelling back at him.

"No different? You really don't think so? Number one, they aren't death eaters, number two, I'm not trying to avoid a marriage law and number three, I wasn't supposed to be betrothed to you and out canoodling with them!"

"Canoodling, Ron, don't be ridiculous!" she pushed her hands through her hair in frustration, barely acknowledging the fright she must look – wild haired and red faced, screaming like a banshee. At least Harry and Mr Weasley had now decided to leave them to it and edged out of the room.

"It's right there!" he roared, throwing his arm out to the paper. She looked down and her stomach fell away to see Draco's arm round her waist, whispering something in her ear whilst she let out what looked to be a very un-Hermione like giggle.

"And what do you care? Other than your stupid macho pride that it's Malfoy? What do you care that I'm dating a death eater? What's it to you if I have to marry someone I hate and wants to kill me? Why do you even care Ron?" her voice betrayed her at the last, breaking slightly.

Ron just shook his head sadly, "I don't know," he admitted. He looked at her beseechingly for a moment, the fight sucked out of him as quickly as it had come, before turning on the spot and disapparating.

She sank back down into her chair, head in her hands.

"You and Malfoy, huh?" Harry sounded quite calm as he sat down beside her.

"Don't you start," Hermione groaned.

"I'm just confused, you two couldn't stand each other,"

"We still can't half the time. Maybe that's just my type. Men who hate me,"

"I don't hate you. Now come on, Hermione. Sit up at least, your hair is falling in the butter dish,"

Hermione sat up grudgingly. Harry was looking at her, concern painted over his face.

"Oh Harry, it's all such a mess,"

"Ron'll get over it, it's just his pride that's hurt. It's not like you two are a real couple is it? The Ministry is your biggest worry right now. You don't think Malfoy could have leaked the story to the papers do you? Now you'll be free to marry whatever death eater whoever's behind this wants to line you up with,"

"Thank you for stating the obvious Harry," she groaned, crossing her arms over her chest, "but no. Draco's an arsehole but he isn't a death eater any more,"

"How do you know? This whole...you and him...thing could be part of the plan?"

Hermione's eyes flashed angrily, thinking of the scar on Draco's arm, "What is it with you and Ron? It's like the Yule ball all over again! Believe it or not, some men do find me attractive without it being some kind of scheme,"

"I know that. I do Hermione!" he held up his hands defensively, "It's just, you know, it's Malfoy,"

Hermione took a deep breath to give her patience, "Harry, I know that at school you sometimes had suspicions that I didn't always believe. And sometimes, they were correct, but you and Malfoy -" Harry looked like he was going to interrupt but she held up her finger to stop him, "You and Malfoy have hated each other from the moment you set eyes on each other. He's made no attempt to do anything to you or hatched any evil plans in the last half decade. Is it completely without the realms of possibility that he might have changed, maybe grown up a bit?"

"Joining the Death Eaters isn't a childish lark Hermione!"

"Just drop it Harry, whatever's going on here has nothing to do with Malfoy,"

"But what he said to you, what he called you," Harry was only concerned, Hermione knew, but it didn't stop the irritation she felt.

"You know that Professor Snape said it to your mum and that he regretted it ever afterwards. Saying that word didn't stop him loving her," Hermione said gently.

"So it's love now is it?"

"No, of course not!" she huffed out in frustration.

"I just –"

"Stop!" Hermione raised her voice for the second time that day - a rare feat considering she was still in her pajamas, "I've got just over a day to try and come up with some way to overturn this law so unless you've got anything constructive to say, I'm going to go home and start planning,"

Harry said nothing, just pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. Taking that as a sign that the conversation was over, Hermione rested her hand gently on his shoulder for a moment before she left.

oOoOoOo

She had been poring over her books all day until her vision blurred and the words stopped making sense to her. It wasn't anything new that she was reading and she didn't see how it could help her. With Ron, maybe they could have gone to the ministry and tried to convince them that the photos meant something other than what they clearly showed, or that they were old pictures, that theirs had been a whirlwind romance, that they were madly in love….Hermione sighed, pushing the books away. Even if she knew where Ron had gone, she knew better than to try and speak to him when he was still so angry. Crookshanks weaved between her legs, rumbling loudly and she petted him absentmindedly on the head.

With a flash of green, Draco entered the room. He had a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky dangling from his fingers, half empty Hermione noted.

"Give me that," she snapped, snatching the bottle from him and taking a deep draught. Smoke billowed from her mouth as she coughed at the eyewatering burn of alcohol in her throat.

"You've seen it then?" he slammed the paper down in front of her. At the sight of the photos, the alcohol hitting her empty stomach threatened to make a reappearance. He slumped in a chair next to her, his grey eyes regarding her balefully,

"I've seen it, Ron's seen it, the Ministry's seen it. Is there anyone who hasn't seen it?"

"My mother," Draco chuckled darkly, "I instructed the house elves to hide any copy of today's Prophet from her and sent her off to the spa for the day. Someone will tell her though. I'm sure one of the hags she socialises with will delight in filling her in. They certainly seem to enjoy her misery over my father, this will be an extra treat for them,"

"So you've not come here to help me figure out what to do about the exposure of my betrothal as a sham to the entire wizarding world– something that will undoubtedly result in my having to be married off to one of your pals or sent to Azkaban," she spat the word, "but to hide from mummy,"

Draco paled, "They wouldn't dissolve your betrothal on the back of a couple of old photographs would they?"

"The letter I received this morning, from Umbridge no less, would suggest otherwise. They want Ron and me to attend a meeting tomorrow to discuss it,"

"Shhhhhit" the muggle swear word eased out from between his teeth, "What's Weaselbee got to say about it?"

"We had a row about it, he wasn't very impressed," Hermione admitted, taking another smaller swig from the bottle, "he disapparated – I don't know where he's gone. I can't imagine he'll be coming with me,"

"Shit," he muttered again, "For what it's worth Granger, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause all this trouble for you,"

"What do you mean?" she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

"Well," Draco looked uncharacteristically nervous, fiddling with a quill and charming it to spin around in mid-air, "When I chose that restaurant, I knew it wasn't exactly discreet. Ive seen photographers hanging around outside, trying to get shots of anyone famous. Obviously I didn't know about this stupid Marriage Law then, I just wanted to annoy Weasley,"

"You boys are all as bad as each other!" She shrieked, throwing her hand in the air, "I've had Harry going on at me that I should be careful that you're not only pretending to be interested in me as part of some kind of Death Eater plot! When are you all going to get over this childish feud with each other!"

"That's rich from you," Draco smirked, "I'm not the one who refused to talk to my ex for years at a time,"

"Only because your exes are probably your second cousins or something," she raged. It was only then that she had noticed that she was practically nose to nose with the blonde haired Slytherin. He smiled smugly, watching her lips,

"Merlin you're sexy when you're angry," he muttered, before pulling her body against him. She responded ferociously, pushing him down into the chair and straddling him. Hermione poured every ounce of frustration into the kiss as she ground herself into his lap. Without breaking the kiss, Draco reached down, grabbed the two sides of her blouse and yanked them apart. Hermione could hear the buttons hitting the floor.

"This was one of my best shirts," she growled, and grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back to reveal his pale neck before biting and sucking her way from his jawbone to where his skin disappeared beneath his collar. Her rhythmic grinding had caused him to harden in his pants and she quickened her pace, desperate for the friction. Draco responded by yanking the shirt down her arms to her wrists without freeing her hands, leaving them pinned in the shirt behind her back, which made her back arch and her breasts jut forward to keep her seat on his lap. Draco didn't waste any time in assaulting her exposed flesh with his hands, kneading and stroking, starting the build up of unbearable pressure inside of her.

Hermione's tongue battled with Draco's as she managed to free herself of the shirt, allowing her to throw her arms around his neck and pull him even closer. Just when she thought she was starting to near an almost fully clothed orgasm, he picked her up, her legs wrapping automatically around his waist, and carried her upstairs.

Once they reached her bedroom he threw her down on the bed, shrugging off his robes and crawling up next to her, grinning wolfishly. This was what she needed, she thought, as she dragged his lips to hers; sweet oblivion. Time to forget about the stupid marriage law, and Umbridge and reality and Ron...damn. She cursed her overactive brain and buried her head in his neck.

"Are you going to get undressed or do I have to vanish your clothes - hey, what's wrong?"

Hermione pulled him back to her but it was too late, he had already seen the tears sliding out from under her eyelids. Sighing, lay on his back and pulled her onto his chest. She could feel his heart beating against her cheek.

"I'm so sorry. I can't do this," she whispered against his pale skin, "I can't go to the Ministry tomorrow to talk about my betrothal, fresh out of bed with you,"

"I could come with you – I could talk to Umbridge. You know, she's -"

Hermione cut him off. She couldn't bear to hear what he was going to say. Even if he offered to come to the ministry and propose there and then in front of the entire Betrothals and Marriages Office, which she doubted, her freedom belonged to them and if they dissolved her current betrothal they could, and would, marry her off to whoever they desired.

"I'll be fine Draco, honestly. I think I just need some sleep. I really am sorry, I didn't mean to..." she trailed off, unsure of whether she was apologising for kissing him, or for stopping. Both probably. She turned over in the bed to face away from him and held her breath, wondering whether he would try to argue with her, try to convince her he could help.

He didn't say any more to her, just lay there staring at the ceiling, arms tucked behind his head. After what seemed like an eternity, Hermione heard the creak of springs and him gathering up his robes, followed by the crack of apparition.