Chapter III

A marriage with no love, no ring and no symbol of our non-existent vows. I'd be a hypocrite if I said I approved of the travesty of a ceremony that was held an hour ago. That was no real marriage, just a binding ritual. Whoever said it was would be blind. However, I know that Kingsley was right not to make us say vows. It wouldn't be right. We'd both be just lying to ourselves – not that we weren't already. This marriage is a sham. My whole life in the past three years has been a lie, and right now, I really had no idea how to get back on my feet again. Given the current situation, I don't think that'd be any time soon. It's amazing how circumstance and… laws could toy around with people. Especially like this – becoming bound to someone you've not been in good terms with for the rest of your life was just… dreadful. Sometimes I wonder what I did for fate to treat me so cruelly.

My life was to change in many ways, starting right now – becoming the Malfoy Bride was no where in my plans, and I haven't a plan for it now that it happened. It was just sick to think that I was to be faithful and to take care of Draco Abraxas Malfoy, so long as this marriage is effective, and if what Kingsley said was true, then unless something inexcusable happened, we couldn't separate. I wonder what 'inexcusable' meant for them anyway. Why couldn't they just say that unless one of us kills the other, then maybe they'll consider the divorce? Hah. Yes, I know that was a bad joke, but do you honestly think I can help it right now? I mean, it's pretty amazing that I'm still on my feet and well, am not crying. I mean, every girl dreams of being wed to the person she loved the most. Every girl dreams of that perfect fairytale wedding. Every girl does that – and I'm a girl. For once in my life I'd wish for something to go right.

However it seems that Merlin is screwing with me and intended for my fate to go left. Typical. Just bloody typical.

Malfoy and I stepped out of Kingsley's office and out of the building still not uttering a single word to each other. His face was emotionless – unreadable, much so he didn't even pull any insults. He took a deep breath and breathed out, and we continued walking for another two blocks. The ice was… pretty much unbreakable at this point, and even if we wanted to talk, what's there to say? 'Hey, we're married now might as well live happily ever after with lots of babies?' Oh god that just sounded so wrong, even in my head.

Malfoy stopped in front of this fancy-looking café, which was apparently called, 'WildKat'. An usher opened the door for us, and Malfoy stepped inside, with me following closely. The inside of the café was in… surprisingly, was in Gryffindor colors. Red and gold. Why Malfoy would even pick this place to eat was beyond me, since he prided himself in being "a pureblooded Slytherin", and all that bullocks. The usher led us to an empty table for two, and handed us a menu.

Apparently, most of the things on the menu were sweets, and even if there was actual food, they were either just steaks, or easy snack food. It was hard to imagine that Malfoy was actually a sweet-tooth, so I assume he's either here for the steak, the snacks or the coffee.

"The usual." He tells the waitress, who was practically blowing Malfoy with her eyes. She was panicked as she wrote on her notepad, muttering something that sounded like, 'what the hell is his usual!' and finally, maybe she decided she'd ask the other people what Malfoy's usual was, she asked, "And for the lady?"

Malfoy turned to me. He wasn't glaring or anything, so I took that as a good sign. I scrambled for the menu. I heard Malfoy chuckle. "Give her the same thing." He says, and the waitress nodded and hurried to the counter.

"My mother and I used to come here a lot when I was a kid." He offered, trying to be nice. He wasn't smiling, and I don't think there was a hint of positive emotion in that sentence, but at least he was trying to start a conversation – wait, hold up. Malfoy? Conversation? Me? Those three don't add up! Calm down, Hermione. It's been… what, four years? Malfoy might've matured a bit now, right?

"That's nice," I say, not knowing how to respond to how Malfoy opened up. He sighed. I bet he realized it wasn't working. He well, for the lack of better word, looked at me – looked, because he wasn't glaring, nor was he staring. He was… studying my reactions. It wasn't anything I was used to. Draco would usually just throw snide comments and tell me I was a mudblood. That would've been easier. The silence was killing me inside, and the fact that we had nothing to talk about… that was worse.

He looked away. He took a deep breath and exhaled, and looked me straight in the eye. "First things first, Granger." He says urgency apparent in his voice. It was the kind of voice that forced you to listen, and it didn't matter if you didn't want to listen. That tone simply dragged you in. He hesitates. "Scratch that, it's technically Malfoy now."

I need not be reminded.

"I'm not really so sure how to go about this marriage," he states, looking bored, "but everyone else says I might as well try to get along with you. So I will. But remember, I said try. No real reassurance there."

I nod. He was… making sense and hopefully being reasonable – so why not just give him the benefit of the doubt?

"So. My terms are," He says like this was some kind of business deal and not a serious matter like marriage. It was pretty much insulting, but at least that was the Malfoy I knew. He didn't really change much, and that's a good thing. At least I don't have to expect a hormone-ridden twenty-three year old trying to harass me. He'd probably say he was too… 'Pure' for that. I rolled my eyes at the thought. Then again, Malfoy may be a prat and a bloody wanker, but one had to admit that from an objective point of view, Malfoy was easy on the eyes.

"First, you must take the last name." He says, a lot of hesitation in his eyes. I bet he thinks I was to disagree. I would've, actually, but the law states that I cannot.

"Done." I said, taking to consideration that… well, there really was no bloody way around this. He looked a little stunned at first, but then he quickly regained composure, and continued.

"Second, we will live in the manor." He pauses for a while, but then continues. "I know you had a… traumatic experience there post haste, but it's the most comfortable estate we have in this country. And it's near London."

Of course I've suffered tremendous trauma there. I was Crucio'd by Bella Lestrange right in that very mansion – which, apparently, I now have to live in. You know what? Bloody, sodding hell. I wasn't so sure I wanted to agree with that. I considered my options for a second. Living in Malfoy Manor would be OK, I guess. The place was huge and we probably wouldn't have to see each other much, granting that we didn't share a room – which was likely. Malfoy wouldn't want filth on his bed. Second, it was quite close to London.

Malfoy looked at me, his eyes bore deeply into mine, and I could tell he knew what I was thinking.

"We have the biggest private library in the whole of England, and it's all in Malfoy Manor. And, you can have the entire east wing if you want – we'd barely see each other. We'd just see each other during breakfast, lunch and dinner, that's pretty much it."

We didn't have to see each other? See each other only during meals? Biggest private library in England? Jesus, was he serious? I can feel myself smiling involuntarily. Malfoy smirked.

"So… is it a deal?" He asked tentatively. As if he even needed to ask. I nod. However, I couldn't help but credit Malfoy's attempt at civility. Right. Draco Malfoy and civil. Those two things just don't sound right in my head. I looked at him – not sure if this was actually Draco Malfoy, and not someone else. Draco Malfoy? No offense, but even years after his father's death, I would never have thought that he'd let go of all that pureblood supremacy bullshit.

It didn't take long before the waitress arrived again – this time with what looked to me like… two mugs of coffee and a huge plate of… cookies? Wait, what? Malfoy ordered his 'usual'. Did he 'usually' come here to eat cookies, and drink coffee? He didn't seem the type at all!

"We decided to have all the cookies in one plate, sir." The waitress said, her voice shrill and there was something about it – her voice – that led me to think that was nervous. Typical. Malfoy had this effect on women who didn't know better, even back when we were at school together. I remember this one time when we were partners in potions, wherein this girl handed him all her supplies just after he'd ask her to. Despicable cur.

He nodded at her, and when she asked if there was anything else we wanted, Malfoy gave her a curt, "No," and after that, she left – well, she technically half-ran back to the counter, and started audibly squealing. I sighed. Poor soul.

Malfoy reached for one of the cookies, and broke it in two offering the other half of what he broke to me. "These taste quite good, you know." He said, already nibbling on the half-cookie he had on his hands. He smiled as he ate. Was it just me, and my overactive imagination, or was Draco Malfoy genuinely happy?

Deciding that there probably was no harm in it, I took the half that he offered me. He looked at peace somehow. It was a side I never saw. There was probably more of that to come though, those 'sides I've never seen'. I observed him for a while, and when he noticed, he cocked an eyebrow, stopped eating, and asked, "Is there something on my face?"

That knocked me out of my reverie. "Ah. No." I said, desperately trying not to blush after that blunder.

"I see." Malfoy said, smirking now. The bastard. "Tell me about yourself, Granger."

Old habits really did die hard. Malfoy seems to have forgotten that it's 'Malfoy' now, no longer 'Granger', however much I would've wanted to stay 'Granger'.

"Well," I started, not knowing what to say. I never knew how to 'tell someone' about myself, nor did I try finding out how. "I'm an Auror at the Ministry." I offered, and Malfoy rolled his eyes. I pouted. His fault for even asking.

"Nothing generic, Granger. Your being an Auror is a known fact." He said, sarcastically.

"Why the bloody hell do you even want to know, Malfoy?" I said, my voice slightly raised, and well, slightly embarrassed.

"Merlin, Granger, keep it down." He said, humorously. "You know, there's this saying that you have to know everyone you're to have live with you in your house. That's what I'm doing."

"Don't worry; I'm not going to kill you in your sleep. Hell, if you're true to your promise, we wouldn't even see each other."

"Touché, Granger." Malfoy said, smirking again. "Feisty, aren't we?"

"Asshole." I said, and watched Malfoy doing a comical 'hand-over-chest-clutching-heart-feigning-hurt' thing.

"You wound me, Hermione." He said, with that infernal smirk which somehow just wouldn't leave his face – when I realize something. What did he just…?

"What did you just call me?"

Malfoy took the last piece of cookie. Apparently, he'd been eating while I sat there, overthinking things.

"Hermione." He said, nonchalantly.

"We aren't exactly on a first name basis, Malfoy." I told him, crossing my legs, chin on fingers, ala Mr. Burns of the Simpsons. Hah. My gesture seems to have surprised Malfoy, but he didn't allow himself to look surprised for so long.

"Because I can." He shot back, his voice smooth.

So, within thirty minutes, I've decided that Malfoy wasn't so bad – however, I wasn't sure if I could live in the same house with him and not kill him, even though I only saw him during meals. We clashed too often, and because of that I could tell my life had taken a turn for the interesting.

Hey guys. I'm sorry for not updating soon - I had no morale to do anything at all, and for that, I'm sorry. ._.;; So, that's chapter three. You might want to read chapters one and two again, since, I edited them.

Reviews, concrit and all that are welcome and appreciated. :)

- Reese