Note: Hey people! Another chapter! Don't have much to say about it except... finally, an encounter with the Devil in person ;) You get the idea, don't you? Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 8: Try To Be Happy

Three days.

Three days later, Hermione's father knocked on her bedroom's door at five in the morning to announce the 'most marvellous news of her entire lifetime':

"Honey, you're getting married in a month to Draco Lucius Malfoy!" he declared in an I'm-the-proudest-father-ever tone. She just stared at the ceiling, letting her eyes adjust, until he spoke again, maybe a little worried at her lack of emotion. He had expected something else. Cries, tears, shock, bouncing joy, something at least...

"Aren't you... happy?"

She took the time to think before she answered.

"I'll try to be."

She turned herself to face him, a frown clearly distorting her sleepy face.

"Why did it take so long to come to this decision?"

"We only wanted to make sure this gentleman would be a perfect husband for you. Since his father is in custody at the new Azkaban, we didn't know if we could trust him with our beloved daughter..."

Perfect husband? No way! How many lies did Malfoy tell so they would believe him trustworthy?

"Why is he suddenly perfect for me?"

"That, you will realize when you go on your honeymoon."

"Honeymoon?" She yelped in horror and surprise, the shock fully waking her. Surely they didn't count on them to go on a honeymoon? It wasn't a love wedding, why...

"Yes, honeymoon. According to the 20th law of pureblood engagement, the 19th law must be worked on as soon as the two purebloods are rightfully married. The 19th law, in short, indicates you must conceive an heir before the husband's 21st birthday. Thus, the honeymoon in the pureblood engagement history."

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"I need to sleep," she grunted.

"Oh! Okay. I'm going now. Goodnight! ...I mean morning."

As soon as he passed the door and closed it, she grabbed her pillow, hid her face in it and screamed like there was no tomorrow.

"Why is this happening to me?"

But then she realized that in a month, she'd be back at Hogwarts for her 7th year. Were they planning on celebrating the wedding on school days? She didn't want to miss any of her classes just for these awful traditions! As unappealing as it appeared to her, she realized she absolutely had to see Malfoy about these matters as soon as possible.

Okay, maybe not now. She really needed to sleep. And with that thought, she drifted back to the world of her dreams –or nightmares, for she dreamt she was on a trip to the South Pole with the children she had had with Malfoy, and everyone was eating ice cream except her, so she died of hunger just before a black train hit her.

She slept in, woke up at 10:30 in the morning. Her brother was already at his shop, her father at the ministry, and her mother had left a note, taped to her doorknob, explaining she had gone shopping for a ball she had been invited to. Hermione had the whole afternoon free, until her family came back home, of course.

She ate broiled eggs and bacon with an enormous bowl of fruits –she was always hungry at home, it was only at Hogwarts she wasn't eating much, no reason why–, took a long, refreshing shower –pure heaven– and got dressed into a pair of black commando jeans and a white girly top, even pushing her luck by putting a blood red rose in her braided hair. Farray than appeared behind her, took out the rose, undid the braids, and did another complicated hairstyle. At the time Farray was finished, it was almost noon.

"Looks like it's time to pay Malfoy a visit" she bitterly thought with a resigned look.

She checked to make sure her wand was safely in her back pocket –never go unprepared into the enemy's lair– and went to the living room where the chimney and Floo Powder were. She stopped dead in her tracks before reaching the room, slowly turned to the opposite side and sprinted all the way to her bedroom. She frantically searched through her things to finally get the hand on the two objects she had wanted so badly to find.

"That's why it seemed so familiar..."

Hermione was holding Mary-Anna's silver watch in her right palm, the fifth hand spinning slow, fast, slow, fast, clockwise, counter clockwise, and in her left palm stood a silver cigarette box with practically the same fine engravings and precious appearance.

She looked at both of them, wondering whether the objects had some importance or if it was just a coincidence the two were obviously from the same origins. In that case, would there be a link between Thomas (psychopathic phantom of the opera) and Mary-Anna (stuttering employee of her brother)?

"Okay, Malfoy, you'll definitely have to use that brain of yours with me if you want your wife not to kill you in your sleep," she thought with an evil grin taking place at the mention of his possible future death.

She returned to the living room with the two silver-made objects and flooed to the Malfoy Manor.

Looking around her, she was all but reassured by the room's ambiance. It was cold, it was black, and white marble surrounded her. She had the impression any sound she would emit would amplify itself at least ten times in here, faking a louder echo.

"I hate this place already," she observed aloud for herself.

"Too bad you'll have to settle here when we'll be as good as wife and husband, then," said Malfoy, who appeared out of nowhere, to her surprise.

"As the woman of the place, I'm afraid I'll have to banish this side of the Manor. I hope you didn't like it that much, dear," she viciously retorted.

"As much as I love scarhead"

"Wow!" She faked interest. "I didn't know it was possible to fall madly in love with a room and a guy at the same time!"

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Granger. Very funny indeed," he said, eyes getting darker.

"I have to speak to you about our... wedding, and other matters," she cut him in.

He simply raised an eyebrow in response. His way of letting her continue, maybe.

"Who is the Pure, Malfoy? And what does it have to do with you?"

She sensed he had become uneasy the moment she had mentioned the Pure; she was right, after all. He DID have something to do about what Thomas and Mavvy had conspired about, and he didn't seem like he was proud of it. She even had the impression he felt ashamed for a second, but she immediately pushed away the thought. A Malfoy ashamed, especially Draco, was too unbelievable even in her wildest dreams.

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I just want to thank everyone who reviewed so far! You guys make me so happy! By the way, would you like it if I responded to your reviews? Just a thought... Because I know that some authors do it, and if you really want it bad (:P), I'm sure I could find the time to do it too! Let me know what you think!

Featherstrike

... and D. and Firnoviel