Hermione tensed as the wide double doors were suddenly thrown open, her breath catching in her throat as she stared in shock at the man who had just walked in

He had such a marked resemblance to Draco that it was obvious the two men were related – indeed, for a moment she had thought that Draco's father had somehow emulated Voldemort, had come back from the dead, gotten himself a haircut and taken a few years off his face while he was at it.

Once her heart had calmed down from her initial irrational panic, Hermione realised the man could not be Lucius. Lucius was most definitely dead. His death had been widely reported; there was a body and a funeral and everything. Furthermore, this man was subtly different in both appearance and manner and he was speaking with a loud, brash American accent rather than the clipped, refined tones of the aristocracy.

"Oh!" As he saw Hermione he stopped speaking and looked enquiringly at Draco. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you had company."

Draco waved his hand, indicating the interruption was nothing to apologise for.

"It's perfectly alright, Luc. In fact, you can be the first to hear our news and congratulate me. Allow me to introduce my bride-to-be, Hermione Granger."

He really was a master actor. All traces of bitterness had left his voice and he subtly took a step closer to insinuate himself next to her. Hermione sent a heated glare at Draco until she felt the eyes of the new man on her. They were a different colour to Draco's, Hermione noticed as he focused on her. A light hazel, instead of that instantly recognisable cold steely grey, and she guessed he was probably a few years younger in age. Maybe a thousand years younger in personality and opinion.

"Your bride-to-be? But I thought that Pansy…" Luc stopped, looking uneasy.

"A common misunderstanding," Draco told him calmly. "As it happens, Hermione and I go back a long way. We attending Hogwarts together, and we were involved for a time after the War. Disagreeable circumstances led to us parting, but we have fortuitously found one another once again."

Hermione barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It sounded so preposterous and insincere put that way.

Luc grinned nonetheless. "I guess the old brigade isn't concerned so much with who you decide to marry, just so long as you continue your royal line with some little royal babies. There was some real nervousness there after the war that you would decide to step down because of all the hassle you were getting and turn the country into a republic. And now that there's this push for muggle-integration… I suppose as an American citizen I oughta claim that you should have rule by the people for the people, but I confess, I kinda like it that I'm related to royalty – even if it is on the wrong side of the blanket."

Hermione marveled at the speed at which Luc was speaking, but Draco did not seem to have any difficulties keeping up.

"You're a successful self-made man, Luc. I would have thought that was something to be far more proud of than any title bestowed by birth."

Since when had Draco Malfoy stop caring about status? During their brief friendship Hermione had thought that he had changed for the better, but Narcissa has quickly cured her of that notion. Yet here he was…

"Careful, Draco, otherwise I might start thinking the lofty prince is longing to mess about in the muck like all us commoners."

"Hardly. Someone around here has to set the standards for good hygiene and grooming."

"I'm sorry Your Most Excellently Clean Highness. I'll try and remember to tuck my shirt in next time I'm granted audience." Luc laughed loudly at his own impertinence. Even Draco cracked a genuine-looking smile. "But before you go feeling sorry for your cosseted, pampered self, I know for a fact that you could have done exactly what I have. And don't forget I had the advantage of inheriting all of that nothing I started out with from my dirt-poor father! All you inherited was a whole country and a truly swoon-worth title…"

"Ah, yes. My tiny, miniscule country beset with problems and that set of old state regalia, which, may I remind you, is hot and itches!"

Luc winked lewdly. "But the women all go crazy for a man in uniform, don't they now?"

"And they don't go crazy for a man with millions and his own yacht?"

Hermione's eyes rounded as she continued to listen the two of them subtly teasing each other. This was definitely a side to Draco she had never seen before. Well, one that she had only seen glimpses of in the past during that short period after the War, before she was disillusioned.

"By the way, do I get to be the first to kiss the beautiful bride-to-be?"

To Hermione's bemusement, just before Luc reached her to bestow upon her his friendly kiss Draco grabbed a hold of her arm and drew her to his side, keeping his own body between them.

"Hermione, allow me to introduce you to my second cousin, Lucas Bonython. Luc and I have only recently discovered our relation."

Luc's face broke into another broad smile and he let loose a warm laugh. And then the wink.

"Yeah, that's true. Draco's grandpa was my dad's dad. Thing is, he sorta neglected to sign that on my Dad's birth certificate! My grandma only told us all what happened when she was dying. Up until then she pretended that she'd been married here and lost her husband to Grindelwald then moved to America after she was widowed. She was… But I'm boring the shirt off you. I guess what you two lovebirds really want right now is to be on your own…"

Being on her own with Draco was the very last thing Hermione wanted! but before she could say anything Luc was turning to Draco. Draco left Hermione's side to converse with his cousin, their voices lowered beyond a normal conversational level. She turned her back to their conversation, as if admiring the view out the wide windows, but twisted her head in such a way that she could just make out their words.

"… guess we can talk about Geneva later. You ought to know that there's been a hell of a lot of speculation going on amongst the Blooded set. Seems like plenty of 'em fear that you might be forced to make a change of policy, and give in to those who are causing so much trouble."

"There's no question of that." Draco's said in a terse tone. "For one thing we're almost wholly dependent on the income from those residents, although…" His wide forehead creased into a frown. "There are certain issues to do with the way things were conducted here during my father's times which are going to have to be addressed."

Hermione was well-versed in the financial status of the state, having read extensively about anything and everything to do with the country when she first heard of it and later visited, but over the intervening years she ignored Cythera and its ruler's existence and had not realised there was any internal pressure on Draco regarding the way the country was run.

"At least the news of your coming marriage will put a stop to gossip going round that you intend to step down as ruler…"

Nice to meet you, Hermione," Luc called out to her. His smile was plastered back on his face and he waved vigorously as he headed towards the doors. "You'll both have to come down and have dinner with me some time at my place. Although you're both probably busy with formal engagements until the wedding. When is it, by the way? I'll clear my busy calendar."

This time Hermione fully anticipate the wink.

"The end of the month. This year marks the five hundred year anniversary since my family was granted this land. It seems fitting to celebrate my marriage at the same time."

Hermione was too shocked to speak. When Draco had told her that she must marry him she had no idea he intended the wedding to take place so soon! Pansy had implied that her marriage to Draco was something that was to take place at some unspecified date well into the future. Bloody Slytherins. Even when they had nothing to gain from it they went around being all secretive and keeping things to themselves.

"Symbolic of your intention to see that the family continues to rule for another five hundred years?" Luc suggested, leaving the room. "What suspiciously good timing."

Shaking herself free of the disbelief immobilising her yet again, Hermione waited until the door had closed behind him before turning to Draco and telling him sensibly, "This has gone far enough… We can't go through with this, Draco. It's crazy. People will realise this marriage is nothing more than a pathetic sham. Everyone knows we despise each other."

"At home, perhaps, but Cythera has only recently opened up to international media, and for the most part the news we receive comes from France. Likewise, the world's media for the most part is unaware of our existence. This was the reason my father could remain in power here; no one knew of his actions back in Britain and few in Britain realised he was hiding out here. There is no reason to assume that our petty childhood rivalries would be found when for so many years his involvement with Voldemort was safely hidden."

"But it's so obvious we can't get along. Even people here will figure out we aren't so happily married when we regularly attempt to rip each other's heads off. And we haven't the slightest thing in common!"

"Well, we did have that one thing…"

Before Hermione could say a word, Draco's hands were clamped on her upper arms and she was being jerked towards him. Before she could react, before her mind had even fully recognised what was happening, she was held tight against him, his head bent over her own. For the longest moment, he just looked at her.

Hermione was held immobile by his gaze. Somehow, being held in his arms, she forgot to be angry. She forgot all about how this would be a perfect opportunity to apply her knee to a particularly vulnerable part of his anatomy and just stared back at him.

Draco's lips quirked into an expression that could almost be deemed a smile. His hold on her changed subtly; his fingertips trailed lightly from her upper arm, to her shoulder and over her collarbone. Hermione's breath fluttered and gazing into his pale grey eyes she remembered how it had been that one perfect time. How he had watched her just as intently, held her just as closely. It didn't occur to her to think of anything else.

His hand resting at the base of her neck, Draco toyed with a loose curl before he moved his hand to cup her cheek, and brought his lips to hers.

It had been eight years since she had last felt his mouth against hers; since she had last felt the hardness of his body, all lean muscle and bone. In those eight years she had forgotten the pleasure he had provoked with only his kiss, his touch, his presence, and to remember instead the corrosive pain of her disillusionment and humiliation.

And yet… and yet…

Hermione's lips softened, her brain clouded by the dizzying warmth of contentment. She felt drugged, lethargic. Of their own volition, her lips parted and as she felt his tongue dart into her mouth. A feeling akin to an electric shock jolted through her, heightening every one of her senses. She could smell him, feel him, taste him.

Her body remembered him…some instincts… some senses… some memories were perhaps so deeply ingrained in a person's consciousness that nothing could erase them.

But then her mind resurfaced suddenly.

Desire was tainted by pain and anger. The sense of him surrounding her was no longer comforting, it was smothering her! His once-sweet taste had turned bitter and his longed-for touch burned her skin, and at the same time left her feeling cold and empty inside. She should not be feeling like this! It wasn't fair that he should do this to her – make her remember how it had been, how she had wanted it to be, how it had so cruelly ended.

But since when had Draco ever been fair? When had he ever done anything that wasn't motivated by self-interest? He had pursued her, played the part expertly and fooled her completely into thinking he had changed. And then, after he got what he wanted from her he had rejected her; dismissed her from his life; ignored her like a toy he had grown bored with.

"No!"

Panic cut through her thoughts, replacing the hazy fog of sensation that had clouded her mind. She lifted her hands and pushed against his chest, at the same time wrenching her mouth from beneath his and staggering back several steps.

She looked up finally, not quite meeting his gaze, but looking somewhere just above his nose. Almost as if she thought that looking directly into his eyes would hypnotise her out of her wits and back into his arms. The way he was staring at her made Hermione's stomach lurch with anxiety. That steely grey gaze was far too sharp and penetrating.

She hated the silence. Hated the awkward quiet broken only by shallow pants as they both tried to catch their breath. Hated the fact that it stretched uncomfortably, and all he did was scrutinise her. He didn't move. He didn't storm from the room, didn't try to recapture her in his embrace, didn't even run his hand through his silver blonde hair in an effort to restore it to some order. He just stood there and watched her, an inscrutable expression on his face, as always.

Defensively she snapped at him, "No matter how much you might believe it so, Draco Malfoy, you are not Merlin's given gift to women. You are not so handsome, or talented, that I will swoon and forget everything with just one little kiss! You are the last man I would ever want to kiss. But of course it's typical of you that you were too intent on doing what you wanted to notice that I wasn't there with you. In fact, you are the last man I would ever want at all!"

"Really?" His tone was even more sardonic than the look he was giving her. His eyes moved down from her dilated pupils, to the pulse hammering at the base of her throat, and finally to the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Hermione's face flamed in angry humiliation.

"That doesn't mean anything," she told him fiercely, bringing her arms up and folding them in front of her chest in an effort to hide the hardened peaks of her breasts from his intense gaze. "You inspire me to anger, not lust."

Draco was supremely non-perturbed. "Indeed. Well, get used to that anger because let me warn you now, for as long as our marriage lasts there will be no other man in your life but me."

"You can't tell me what to do –" Hermione began, but Draco stopped her immediately.

"Actually, you have no option other than to do as I say, Hermione." He said gently, but there was no gentleness in his eyes. Just a hard, implacable determination that warned her he meant every word he was saying. "Because if you don't, both you and your friend…"

She couldn't allow him to carry out his threats, she acknowledged, no matter how strong her feelings of outrage and disgust were towards him. Except that now, after that one kiss, Hermione was unsure of exactly how that outrage and disgust would hold under scrutiny…

Not that any of that mattered right now.

Ron was newly married. He was settling down after a turbulent period of dejection and uncertainty over his career. She wouldn't spoil that for him now for anything in the world.

And then there was the matter of her own reputation… she had spent so many years and invested so much time and energy in her career. The name Hermione Granger was respected, something she had strived for since before she had first stepped foot in Hogwarts' Great Hall. She had succeeded in everything she put her mind to so far; she made the best scores at school, she had been instrumental in bringing down Voldemort, she was now one of the most widely read and trusted columnists in a reputable journal. She was respected as an intelligent, powerful and successful modern-day witch. Hermione refused to suffer a very public failure, she would not be compromised. She couldn't let all her hard work and overtime be for nothing. But at the same time, she would not sit meekly by and wait for the meetings with flower arrangers and dressmakers …

"Very well." Hermione told him through gritted teeth. "As you say, it seems I have no other option. But I promise you that I shall make this as painful an experience as possible. I will cause you to hate every single day, every single minute and every second of this forced marriage, just as much as I."

She had succeeded in everything she put her mind to so far…

Draco gestured, as if to an unseen audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, my charming fiancée!" He took a shallow bow, "so loving, so tender, so complacent – I'm sure that ours shall be a match made in–"

"Hell!" Hermione savagely interrupted him.

"So much passion!" His gaze wandered lazily up and down her form. "But then, you always were… passionate."

The look he was giving her was an open insult. Somehow Hermione managed to bite back the words she was longing to throw at him, recognising they could spend all day and night arguing in this vein and get nowhere. She had a gut-sinking feeling that if this marriage were to go ahead, they might spend the rest of their natural lives doing so.

She had to get out of this room, away from him, he was doing things to her head…

She turned quickly on her heel and stalked to the large doors, her head held high and back ramrod straight. Slamming the doors shut, she leaned back against them.

"You don't know the half of it, Draco Malfoy."

A/N: So I spared you all a Slytherin ending. I was toying with it, I really was.

Next chapter is a whole new day, same argument. But I swear, we will be getting some action soon. After all, Narcissa has to come back eventually. Oh, that wasn't the action you were after!?

Thanks to loyal readers (but really, how loyal does one need to be when there are only 6 chapters?).

Extra special, bottom of my heart, greeting card THANKS to reviewers, who I love from afar and I hope continue loving me back - or at least putting up with me when I decide to go all Slytherin on them … Always a pleasure, guy!

I'm afraid all I have to offer in thanks is a cup of tea and a biscuit – oh, and karma, lots and lots of good karma…