A/N: Sending out tons of beta-love to shealone, whose new stories you should definitely check out!
She is posting a new story at that is perfectly delicious. I'm also crossing posting there, and I have a new story which I am working on now, and will be posted there first. So, come join us!
Disclaimer: I checked, and I still do not own HP or anything about the HP universe. This story is just my imagination running riot.
Ch. 13
Mid-October
The Great Hall
The remainder of September and the beginning of October sped by on winged feet. This weekend was the first publicity appearance for the Hogwarts team of Draco, Hermione, Blaise, and Parvati.
Saturday they would host a meeting of all Hogwarts students and their intendeds in Hogsmeade, and on Sunday they would travel to London to meet with a larger group of twenty-somethings who had been recently paired by the Sorting Hat. The team based in London of Harry, Daphne, Ron, and Tracey would also be present. The London team had their first appearance last week, and Harry had written Hermione telling her all about it.
As it happened, Harry felt like the appearance was more a meet and greet for two-thirds of the Golden Trio, but it was overall a positive experience. Hermione had hopes that their meeting at Hogsmeade this weekend would be uneventful.
She still had not decided how she felt about the notion that she and Draco were somehow fated to be together, but they had grown closer over the last few weeks. They had made a habit of revising together in the evenings and occasionally played twenty questions with one another. She now knew his favourite food (seafood) and his favourite Quidditch team (Puddlemere United). He knew she loved seafood as well, and that her favourite Quidditch team was the one who was not playing on any given game day.
The Ministry rented out the Three Broomsticks for the meeting on Saturday morning and, when Draco, Hermione, Blaise, and Parvati arrived, the shop was almost full. Their fellow eighth years seemed most at ease with the situation but the few sixth and seventh years were apprehensive.
Most had decided to marry over the summer but a few like Ginny and Michael, and Terry and Padma had made other arrangements. Ginny had decided on wedding the Burrow at the beginning of Easter hols, and Terry and Padma had opted for nuptials on New Years Day. The meeting was like a reunion except they had just seen virtually everyone there a few weeks prior at the Marriage Sorting Ceremony.
Blaise and Parvati fielded most questions; they decided they were more "approachable" than Draco and Hermione for younger students. As much as Hermione was loathe to admit, the younger students at Hogwarts tended to treat her with a bit of hero worship, and Draco was . . . well . . . Draco. He could intimidate with a glance. Of course, Blaise could do the same but he lacked Malfoy's absolute air of pureblood supremacy. Now that Hermione was getting to know him better, she could see it was a façade for the benefit of others and his own protection. If people didn't approach him, then they could not get to him; if they could not get to him, then they could not hurt him.
Since McGonagall had ensured that all of her students received the most up-to-date information, the questions quickly turned to wedding and gossip. All in all, it was a light-hearted affair. The general comfort level of all the 8th years helped calm the nerves of the younger students.
After the students dispersed, the Hogwarts team sat in a booth and reviewed the day.
"It went well, yeah?" Blaise looked to Draco and Hermione for confirmation.
Hermione nodded. "I think it did. And I think you two were able to ease some worries really well. I'm not sure that Draco and I would have been able to do it. We're too . . . I don't know . . . unapproachable sometimes."
"Well, if you weren't Miss Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin, First Class, then maybe the little sixth years wouldn't be so terrified of you and that gigantic brain of yours," Draco ribbed Hermione.
"Oh, yes. You are so much more open and accessible, Draco. Mister 'I will curse you into oblivion if you so much as glance at me sideways' Malfoy." Hermione said, giving as good as she got.
Blaise and Parvati snickered into their butterbeers. Draco narrowed his eyes at his companions.
"You can't scare us, Drake. We know you too well." Parvati snarked.
Draco's right eyebrow quirked upward. After a beat, he grinned. "I guess I couldn't keep my winning personality under wraps forever."
Hermione snorted. "This is your winning personality? Humph." She couldn't resist another minor jab.
They spent the next thirty minutes joking with one another and mentally preparing themselves for the larger London meeting the next day.
Sunday
The Ministry of Magic
London
The small auditorium was packed with apprehensive looking wizards and witches. Fay Dunbar and Dean Thomas seemed comfortable with one another, but Pansy Parkinson was sitting next to Seamus Finnigan and they were positioned as far from one another as the seats would allow, legs crossed in opposite directions. Hermione noticed the same with Marietta Edgecombe and her fiancé Theodore Nott. She vaguely wondered if the "Sneak" Charm remained on Marietta's face, but she was heavily made up, so Hermione supposed that she could be covering it up.
"Draco, are you friends with Theo Nott?"
"Yeah. Why?" Draco looked out over the group and acknowledged Theo with an ubiquitous chin tilts that males seemed to like.
"What does he think of Marietta?"
"No sure, but she wears too much make-up," he said, looking at Theo's Ravenclaw fiance.
"Ahh, would you like for me to fix that? As a favour to Theo, I mean?" Hermione asked.
"What? How?"
Hermione laughed. "She has the word 'sneak' written on her face." She said and then gave an abbreviated version of events. "Theo might want to know it, too."
Draco looked at Hermione with admiration in his eyes. "I never thought I would say this, but how very Gryffindor and Slytherin of you, Hermione." He paused and then whispered in her ear. "I'm a little turned on right now. Let's get out of here and go snog in a dark corner somewhere."
Hermione's peal of laughter rang out over the room, unintentionally calling the meeting to order. The sight of the brain of the Golden Trio laughing loudly and sincerely with Draco Malfoy, of all people, did quite a bit to assure some skeptics of the value of that match.
Blaise and Parvati stood and began the meeting. They introduced the remaining couples though introductions were largely unnecessary. After his brief statement, Blaise opened the floor for questions. Pansy was the first to strike. "How can I be expected to marry," she gestured dismissively towards Seamus, "him?"
"Oi, it's not like ye're a great catch, ye kno'?" Seamus was not to be outdone.
At the front of the room, Hermione flinched.
Before she could say anything, Ron appealed to their fellow Gryffindor. "Seamus, none of us were expecting our matches either. And I doubt I would have even had the opportunity to get to know Tracey without this Marriage Law." He threw a heated glance over his shoulder at her. "Now that I do, I know I would have missed a lot."
At Seamus's doubtful glance at Pansy, Harry decided to take over. He tried to speak to Seamus's Gryffindor side. "Seamus, you know the reasons for this law. It seems really unfair that our generation must make another sacrifice for our world, but we," he said as he gestured to the four couples on stage, "believe that this is actually for the best. If you had told me who we all would have been paired with just a few weeks ago, I would have tried to have you committed to nice long quiet stay at St. Mungo's in the Janus Thickey Ward with Lockhart," this prompted a chuckle around the room, "but, we're finding that we all have a great deal in common with our fiancés. And it certainly will help future generations.
"Our population is really close to a tipping point. 'Merlin's Curse', as we have been calling it, will not take into account age or preferences. It will force marriages and children. Isn't it better for us to try to circumvent this? Would you want your fourteen-year-old sister forcibly married to someone over twice her age? Forced to have children with him? Isn't it our duty to try and prevent that from happening?"
Seamus's jaw tightened and he nodded.
Harry looked to Daphne for help because he had no idea how to bring Pansy around.
Daphne employed her best soothe-the-rabid-customer tone as she spoke to her former Housemate. "Pansy, why don't we have a chat afterward and we can talk about your concerns? I'm sure we can work something out."
"I'm not buying the 'it's good for the country' bollocks, Daphne. But we can talk." Pansy said, agreeing to the private conversation.
A Ravenclaw who was a fifth year when Hermione was a first year spoke up from the back of the room, "Is there no way to break the curse?"
Hermione walked forward to address the question. "The Ministry contracted with Curse-Breakers, law experts, you name it, all trying to find a way to break it. But it appears that the curse was put into place using ancient, Blood Magic. The idea was to prevent the end of magic in Britain. Apparently during that time there had been a purge of witches and wizards and almost an entire generation died, so they implemented this curse. And we call this Merlin's curse but, in fact, he was a product of this law, not the originator of it."
Draco leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Granger, you're in professor mode."
She gave him a small glare and continued, "Right. So, you wanted to know if there is any way to break it. The short answer is: not that we can find, but not for lack of trying." Hermione drew her talk to an immediate close.
Penelope Clearwater spoke up from beside her former housemate, "How do we know that the curse is going to trigger?"
"Penelope, it is so good to see you," Hermione said with a smile, recognising the girl that had saved Hermione's life second year when they were both petrified by the basilisk roaming Hogwarts. "That's an excellent question. Thank you for asking." Hermione once again launched into teacher mode. "According to the most recent census taken in the months after the war, we are dangerously close to triggering it. The only solution is to bolster the population — quickly — to prevent another precipitous drop in numbers and, unfortunately, normal marriage patterns will not bring up the numbers fast enough." She paused reflectively. "It's fortunate, really, that Minister Shacklebolt ordered the census when he did, otherwise, we may have inadvertently triggered the curse, and . . . I just can't bear thinking about that. Much better that we act now. Much better." Turning to her fiancé, she asked, "Draco, did you have anything to add?"
Before Draco could speak, Gregory Goyle piped up from the corner, "Drake, what did your father say? 'Coz my father is really, umm . . . mad. And, uhh . . . I don't know what to do. I mean, Polly," he said and gestured to his fiancé, a Hufflepuff who graduated from Hogwarts two years ago, "is nice and all but, she's not, umm . . . pureblood, you know. And my father's mad." Greg apparently didn't realise he had already noted that his father was angry at the fact his son as going to marry a Half-blood.
Draco followed his former minion's bumbling statement with some impatience. Sweet Salazar, it was amazing Goyle had survived as long as he had. "Greg, my father's opinion is irrelevant, as is your father's opinion. This is the law. If you have to seek his approval, ask him if he would prefer the Goyle line completely end with you. And even if he says that is his preference, then you decide if you want to live as a Squib and have the Goyle line end with you. Personally, I hope to see you in a few years, at Platform 9 ¾, seeing our children off to Hogwarts where they will be sorted into Slytherin."
"Gryffindor," Hermione interjected.
"Hufflepuff!" Ernie MacMillan called out.
A round of laughter swept the room, breaking the tension.
"In all seriousness, Greg, if you want to talk to me about your father, meet with me afterward and we will work something out." Draco then turned back to the assembly. "What other questions can we address?"
The questions continued unabated for another hour. The assembled witches and wizards seemed to largely want reassurance that their lives were not ruined. Hermione got the feeling that the ease with which she and Draco treated each other was probably the most helpful. They had been rivals for so long and if they could make the transition then it gave hope to others.
Afterward, Theo and Marietta made their way to Draco and Hermione. Marietta, as Draco had noted, did indeed have on a heavy layer of makeup. She was polite but stiff with Hermione until she unobtrusively drew out her wand and silently recited the Counter-Curse for Marietta's face. Three years had hopefully taught her a valuable lesson. Marietta seemed to feel something changing on her face as her hand made an unaborted move to touch it and she immediately excused herself to go to the ladies.
Across the room, Daphne was deep in conversation with Pansy and, true to form, Daphne knew just what to say. "Pansy, I know he's not a pureblood, but that wasn't going to happen. And he's better than Lucian Bole, who your parents wanted you to marry. I think you really dodged an Avada there. What's the problem?"
"Daph, he's barely middle class! And he wants to split time between here and Ireland. IRELAND! What the bloody hell is there to do in Ireland? What did I do to deserve this? At least Lucian is rich. I might have to get a job," she wailed miserably.
"Control yourself, Pansy. Remember that you are Slytherin. This behaviour is unacceptable." Daphne hissed, her words a proverbial slap to Pansy's face. When she saw Pansy control her emotions, she continued, "You should look at this differently. He is a friend of the Golden Trio and a fairly powerful wizard. Where does he work?"
"He works for the Ministry. Department of Magical Games and Sports."
"Pansy, you can work with this. Now, will your parents be following tradition and giving you a home for a wedding gift?" At Pansy's nod, Daphne continued, "Well, see that you find a house that you both enjoy so he doesn't want to spend large amounts of time in Ireland. Maybe something on the coast?" She paused. "And Seamus is rumoured to be very nice to his lady friends. Have you even gone on a date with him?"
"No." Pansy said petulantly.
"Get over it, Pansy. Go out with him. Get to know him. If it's terrible, then come back to me and we will try to work something out. But you have to try first." Daphne turned to walk away, but then stopped and looked back at Pansy. "I know Lucian's reputation, Pansy. He may be rich, but he would have only given you pain. Seamus will not do that you."
Pansy was still pouting, even though she had been relieved not to be matched with Lucian. "How do you know?" she asked.
"I have spent time around him recently. He, Harry, Ron, and Dean all play Quidditch in a recreation league. Seamus is a Gryffindor to the core; if you treat him well, he'll be the noble lion they are reported to be."
In the meantime, Draco had drawn Goyle aside. He went for the direct approach as subtle discussions tended to fly over the head of the former Slytherin. "Greg, your father is in Azkaban and he will remain there for the foreseeable future. He got a life sentence, did he not?" Greg nodded. "And the Ministry put you in charge of the family estate?" Again with a nod. "Then what the bloody fuck do you care about his opinion? Is this Polly girl all right?"
"Uh, yeah. She's nice. She explains things so I can understand them." Goyle obviously found a woman who was able to comprehend his needs.
"Then marry her, have a couple of kids, and don't worry about your father. If he gives you shite then just ignore him. No one is making you go visit him at Azkaban, are they?" At Greg's head shake, Draco continued, "then don't go. All right?" Greg nodded. "Good. Then Hermione and I will be looking for an invitation to your wedding." Salazar's rod, how did Greg avoid Azkaban? Maybe the old saying that Merlin protects fools and the young was true. Draco hoped Greg's future wife was smarter than him.
Draco left Greg Goyle to find Hermione surrounded by fangirls who all wanted her autograph, the name of her wedding dress designer, and her wedding coordinator. Daphne was going to be pleased with the amount of business these appearances generated.
He drew her away, pulling her hand through the crook of his arm. "So, Miss Granger, I was thinking . . . what do you say to going on a date next weekend? Say, Friday night? I think we need some couple time that doesn't involve . . . all of this," he said, sweeping his free hand around, indicating the still crowded room.
Hermione smiled, not immune to his charm. "Why, Mr. Malfoy, I would be delighted to go on a date with you. What time will you be picking me up? Where are we going?"
"Let's say half six, and wear something comfortable." He winked at her.
Ron interrupted the moment. "Oi, 'Mione, do you and Malfoy want to get out for a bite before you head back to Hogwarts?"
Draco rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to let loose a scathing retort when Hermione spoke over him. "Thank you, Ron. Who all is coming?"
"Well, Harry and me, with the girls of course. We thought we'd invite you lot too," Ron said, including Blaise and Parvati in his answer.
Draco thought, What the hell, it wasn't like I was anxious to get back to Hogwarts anyway.
Sunday Evening
The Leaky Cauldron
By the time they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron the dinner rush was over and they were able to snag a private table for all eight of them toward the back. There was a minor scuffle over who would sit with their backs to the door. It seemed that most of them were wary of leaving themselves vulnerable to a possible attack from the back, thus showing how much war had affected them.
After they ordered, Daphne pulled packages out of her large bag and handed them out. She had all the photographs from their photo sessions from a few weeks ago.
Hermione flipped through the formal engagement portraits; they were all fine, but nothing made her stop and gasp, that is, until she saw the candid shot of her and Draco as they were waiting on the photographer. Nigel somehow had caught their conversation and the brief kiss they shared. She knew that was the photograph she wanted to display. It looked so . . . real. In fact, the casual pictures were her favourite; right as she thought she had seen the best ones, she found one of the "piggyback" poses. The look that Draco was giving her over his shoulder was almost . . . heated.
Draco leaned over to see what had caught her attention. And then at the sight of the photographs he closed his mouth and kept quiet, knowing that if he said anything, he'd give everything away.
"Daphne, which ones will the Ministry be using in their publicity campaign?" Tracey said, interrupted the photo viewing.
"I'm not sure, but since they paid for the pictures they have rights to them all. I suspect they use a series of shots from each of us." Daphne shrugged indifferently. "I liked ours."
Harry pulled out a formal picture of them. Daphne was seated and looking at the camera and, as they watched the picture, Harry leaned down to press an obviously affectionate kiss on the side of Daphne's forehead. As he did, Daphne's picture-perfect smile morphed into a genuine one. "This one is my favourite," he said.
Draco took in the photo. It really was very good, but what shocked him was that Potter was willing to admit that it was his favourite one and demonstrate such open emotion. He looked at Hermione and said as much.
"Why does it surprise you that Harry would say that?" Hermione questioned.
"He's exposing himself; he should control his emotions better," he said quietly.
"Draco, you are such a Slytherin. Harry is a Gryffindor; of course he is willing to let her know how he feels."
"Okay, but he just told everyone. I can see telling her, but not all of us."
"Can you really? Which one is your favourite picture of us?" Hermione held up the sheaf of pictures. "You haven't even told me which one you like best."
"You haven't either! Which one is your favourite?" Draco countered.
Hermione sent him an arch look. "Of course, I need to tell you first." She flipped through the photos again. "I like the casual shots the best, but this one," she said, holding up the one of them kissing in the Great Hall, "is my absolute favourite, followed by this one," she added, showing him the one of her on his back. "Now, which is your favourite?"
Draco already knew which one he like best, but he made a show of looking at them all again. Mentally, he weighed his options. He could tell the truth and expose his feelings, or he could be more cautious and try to avoid any sort of revelation. He considered what Hermione had told him, however unwittingly. Should he or shouldn't he?
"This one is my favourite too, Granger." He pointed to the picture of them in the Great Hall. "But I also enjoy this one." He showed her one of clasped around him on his broom on the Quidditch pitch.
"You like a picture of me utterly terrified, Draco? That's not very nice of you."
"Oh, that's not why I like it, Granger. I like it because you are clinging to me. It's the same reason I like this one." He pointed to her second favourite picture with a wicked grin on his face.