Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. I hope J.K.Rowling doesn't notice that her characters are missing. :)

A/N: I had no idea there were so many Draco/Hermione stories out there based on marriage. I can promise you though that this one is going to be a bit different, at least I hope it is. And thanks to everyone who reviewed my first chapter, it was a nice thing to wake up to all your comments!

Chapter One

Aftermath

When she woke up the next morning, Hermione had been sure that the nights' events had to be something wildly construed by her over-active imagination. She lifted a hand groggily to her eyes, squinting at the sunlight that blazed in through the curtains billowing in the wind. It was only when she was wiping sleep from her eyes that she felt something against her skin that hadn't been there when she had woken up the previous morning. Holding out her hand, a small gasp escaped her lips when she saw it lodged there, precariously on her finger.

She sat up quickly, her head spinning viciously before it cleared and she noticed where she was. Sunlight filtered in from two large windows that overlooked immaculately kept grounds into a room that was at least the size of the Gryffindor, if not bigger. The bed was more modest, the sheets soft against her skin. She tried to remember what had happened after she had, well, married her enemy, but it was hazy in her mind. Narcissa had brought her here, and she had said something to her, but it was lost on Hermione what it had been.

Something heavy dropped in her stomach, a deep sense of dread, she only just managed to make it to the bathroom on the other side of the room before she retched in the toilet. "I cannot be married," she choked out, her voice hoarse.

It seemed like hours passed before she moved. Her feet were tangled underneath her, head slumped on arms resting on the cool white china. The contents of her stomach were mocking her in the basin, but the awful smell barely bothered her. Thoughts whirled in her head as she struggled to remember how she had wound up in this situation, and she struggled to think why she had agreed to.

What was it that Dumbledore had said, she thought, pushing the hair that had fallen over her face away from her burning forehead, "You have to trust me Hermione. I would not ask this of you if I did not deem it worthwhile." She trusted him of course, but her trust had wavered when he revoked all of her questions when she had practically begged him to tell her why she, Hermione Granger, needed to marry Draco Malfoy, the son of a Death Eater, the enemy.

But most of all, she wanted to know why the Malfoy's had agreed. It had to be something serious and worthwhile for them to co-operate. The question was, what had driven them to allowing their son to marry a muggleborn. How would it benefit them? Dumbledore had said that she could make a difference in the war by carrying out this commitment. After all, wasn't that what it was all about at the end of the day, making a difference and ending the war?

An owl came soaring into the window and perched above her on top of the toilet, holding out it's leg as it regarded her with it's large eyes. She recognised the eagle owl instantly. Sitting back on her knees she took the letter and ducked just in time to avoid the owls talons as it soared from the room. The parchment was thick, the words scrawled across in green ink in a handwriting she'd seen only a few times before.

You must leave immediately, and go home.

You will not tell anyone else what happened last night. Dumbledore has been made aware.

You will not send a reply.

Hermione stared incredulously at the letter before scrunching it up and throwing it down the toilet. She flushed the chain and watched it swirl round and round before it disappeared with a reassuring gurgle. Satisfied, she hauled herself up and washed out her mouth in the sink, deliberately ignoring the reflection in the mirror. Five minutes later she was walking through the empty corridors, past portraits and exquisite artifacts that she was in no mood to admire as she tried to figure her way out of the mansion.

A door slammed behind her. Hermione whirled around but there was nothing or no one there, nevertheless she broke into a run, grabbing her wand from her inside her robes as she did so. Her feet slammed loudly on the stone floor and she cringed like a child afraid of waking a parent in the middle of the night, but she did not let up. Finally she found a door that led outside, cried "alohomora" and threw herself down the steps, running as hard as she could across the gravel, adrenlin pulsing through her veins, towards the gates. She looked back only once at the imposing manor, almost falling as her eye caught sight of a lone figure standing in an upstairs window. She tore her eyes away; it only pushed her faster and faster on, and she dared not look back again, not until she was safely out of sight.

Two weeks later...

"Hermione! Hermione – over here!" A hand was waving above the crowd at her, she saw a flash of red hair bobbing up and down. She rushed over in her direction across the crowd of students and parents, ignoring a wince of pain as yet another trunk ran over her foot and an elbow knocked against her ribs. "There you are," the red head beamed grabbing her arm and pulled her into a hug. "Finally, I've been waiting ages! How are you?"

Smiling for the first time in weeks, she stepped back. "I'm great," she replied, only half lying. "How are you? Did you enjoy the rest of summer?"

"Oh you know," Ginny said, batting her hand dramatically as she helped Hermione with her trunk and they walked towards the train, "it was the same as always. We missed you though."

"You saw me three weeks ago!"

"Three weeks feels like an eternity when you live in a house full of boys, with the only female company your own mother." Ginny laughed. "Anyway, how are your parents?"

"Oh, they're fine thanks."

"Haven't they come to see you off?" Ginny asked, glancing around the crowded station.

"No," Hermione replied bluntly, realising her mistake and forcing a smile as her friend glanced at her suspiciously. "They're really busy – at work, lots of clients. You know how it is," she jumped up onto the train and together they managed to haul her trunk up, "everyone wants their teeth whitened in September."

The youngest Weasley still didn't look convinced. "This way," she said, leading Hermione down the middle of the train. "We grabbed a compartment near the back. Oh – congratulations by the way! You parents must be pleased though."

"Hmm?"

"Your parents!"

The elder girl looked confused. "What about them? I told you they-"

"I said I bet they were pleased."

"About what?" Hermione was glancing wildly around for a blonde head. She'd rehearsed the questions she would ask him over and over again at night whilst she lay awake, now all she had to do was ask them. There had been no letters since that morning after, not one from anyone who knew. Did they not care what she was going through? What use was their marriage if but for a signature on a magically binding contract – surely they could have chosen someone else. Why her?

"Hello!" Someone was waving a hand in front of her impatiently and she startled.

"Sorry Ginny," she apologised.

"Who were you looking for?"

Hermione shook her head. "No one." She was becoming an exceedingly good liar.

"If you say so," Ginny muttered. "In here."

They dumped the trunk in an empty compartment next to Ginny's, then headed off the train to say goodbye to Mr and Mrs Weasley. Molly had hugged her tight and squealed when she saw the Head Girl badge pinned to Hermione's cloak. "Where are Harry and Ron?" she asked Ginny as they climbed back onto the train with a final wave goodbye to the Weasley's. She had only just noticed that she hadn't seen them at all yet.

"I have no idea. Excuse me," she added to a chubby fourth year who had just pushed past her roughly. He scowled back at her, only firing up Ginny's temper. "The nerve of some people."

But Hermione wasn't listening. She'd heard a distinctive, high pitched laugh come from a compartment they had just passed. Pansy Parkinson. She knew that he would be in there too. The girl was like a lap dog to him.

"Aren't you coming?" Ginny was stood a few paces ahead of her, regarding Hermione with confusion.

"Er, you go on ahead. I just need to speak to someone, I won't be long." Ginny stood unmoving, and clearly not convinced. "Head's business."

Not waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel, took a deep breath, and slid open the door. Five heads snapped around immediately, the remains of their conversation hanging in the air, scowls spreading quickly across each face.

TBC