Chapter Two /A Not-So Pleasant Reunion

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye."
― Jim Henson

January 10th 2003

After having received the rather non-pleasant letter, informing Hermione who she has been assigned to be wedded to, she frantically - if not a bit maniacally - and of course, after the resulting shock - dashed off a quick letter to Malfoy, stating with forcibly polite words that she desires to see him over an amiable and soothing cup of tea, sending it off to the address stated in the Ministry ordered letter.

"Do you reckon he'll come, Ginny? Of course he's not, he has no reason to.. Does he? - He's not going to come, Ginny!" Hermione frantically whispers to her friend, her half-bitten nails digging into the comforting fabric of the straight back chairs that occupy Cafe Veela, a decently well-know coffeehouse of some sort, located right off the course of London's main town, and owned by a pretty, blonde, magical being whose presence attracts more customers than the menu items themselves.

"Of course he'll come, Hermione, just stop fidgeting. Why - erm - why wouldn't he come? He has no reason not to.. technically, old-rivalry-vengeance aside.." The younger witch stops herself before she can say something much worse, noticing how the insistent fidgeting Hermione had earlier displayed is simply growing more insistent. There's a cringing twitch of her lips as a frown graces her lips when she realizes that she's merely helped Hermione in dig herself a deeper hole that holds nothing but more doubt and aggravating pity-wails. Ron was right, I do suck at comforting people, Ginny grumbles to herself.

The older witch simultaneously swirls her coffee with her shining, silver spoon, her eyes seeking the supposed-to-be familiar blond head in between the passersby outside the transparent window. At least - she presumes he's still blond, with predictably sharp and angular features.. oh god oh god for all she knows he can be brunet, short, and stubby with a raging beard! Hermione hasn't seen him in years, she has no reason, no right or justification to make any assumptions― Twitch Subtle Comprehension. The witch remembers the frigid picture of Malfoy that had accompanied the letter the Ministry had sent - having the sudden urge to smack herself at how idiotically her memory had just escaped her. With an exhausting groan, she slams her head savagely on the table, startling anyone and everyone occupying the normally serene, non-violent cafe. Maybe if I get a comatose concussion, I can get out of this.

"Erm. Hermione.." Ginny gasps somewhat skittishly, reaching out with more courage (than she would like to admit) to try and console the witch she sadly considers as one of her closest friends. Blimey, maybe I need to go out more.. However, using some sort of Merlin-given talent, Hermione spots the movement despite the fact that her eyesight is being concealed and all she can see is the darkness that evoked by the harshness of life, and the redwood coffee table itself.

"Don't touch me."

"Well, well, well, Granger - don't you look like such a dear?" A far too familiar drawl awakens Hermione up from her apprehensive drought, a dreadful sort-of feeling slowly and creepily spreads. Oh God Oh God Oh God. The aforementioned witch barely acknowledges Ginny's surprising gasp, and another load of heavy alarm continues to advance throughout her worrisome noggin. Hermione immediately - if not a bit too quickly - raises her head up, sliding her chair back in the meantime, and nearly knocking over the poor waiter trying to take another lovely couple's order behind her while doing so. The familiar wizard makes a clucking noise and Hermione pleads for Merlin to cast an unforgivable on her in order to end her misery.

After having received a rather delightful letter informing Hermione who she was assigned to be wedded with, she frantically - after the resulting shock, of course - dashed off a quick letter to Malfoy, stating that she desired to see him over a presumably soothing cup of tea, sending it off to the address stated in the Ministry ordered letter.

"Don't worry Hermione, he'll come," Ginny sounded absolutely doubtful, not at all believing in herself as well. Her light brown eyes continued to dart from one place to another, searching for the blonde-little-git that was once a treacherous deatheater. Hermione sighed loudly, slowly twisting the silver spoon that softly twirled her somewhat sweet tasting cappuccino, creating a circle-like pattern. Seconds passed by, soon becoming minutes, and yet, it did not at all come close to an hour.

"Face it, he's not going to come Ginny. I'll just go contact the Ministry and tell them that my partner is just a ferret-like-git!" her words were somewhat annoyed, irritated at the Slytherin Heir for not coming.

Right when she had finally been done with it all, after gathering her cinnamon, brown coat as well, she quickly made a turn towards the transparent door, but was soon stopped by an abrupt figure appearing right before her form, almost knocking her back as well. The strong figure caught her arm before she fell, the tight grip causing Hermione to look up at the mysterious person.

"Malfoy?" her eyes widened in shock as she examined the now, young man. His appearance was awfully different! And yet, not different enough for her to tell it was the one and only, Draco Malfoy, AKA, the ferret!

"Nice to see you, Granger, Weaslette." he shot one of his trademark smirks, soon letting go and putting her pale hands into his jacket pocket, but absolutely not before brushing a piece of his platinum blonde hair away from his somewhat deep, yet chilling grey eyes. He was no doubt, the infamous Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione's piercing, deep brown eyes continued to examine the define beauty. The way his platinum, blonde hair was gently positioned against his soft grey eyes that seemingly glistened whenever he would stare at the blazing sun. He had awfully grown a lot since Hogwarts, even Hermione couldn't deny the damned fact. Draco now somewhat held a poised bone-structure, making him look shaped and well mannered in a twisted kind of way. The young brown-eyed witch couldn't help but stare at him wildly.

His clothing was composed of fine material, the word wealthy practically sewn into his midnight navy cloak that draped his back.

"Having fun staring?" a slide comment emitted from the young man's thin lips as a smug smirk ruined what was left of his soft features. Hermione shot him a quick glare, regretting ever coming to this cafe to meet up with him. It wasn't technically an insult, or anything close to that matte - it was a mere act of teasing. And yet, Hermione didn't seem to notice.

"You haven't changed at all, now have you, Malfoy?" she snarled, her words practically dripping with poisons of all kinds. Her expression somewhat threatening, in an entertaining manner. The Malfoy heir merely grinned gleefully, amused at the girl he once stated as Granger and even Mudblood.

"Nope," he grinned once more enthusiastically at Hermione's frustrated expression. Ginny glanced from one to another, the sight of an old married couple fitting perfectly with them. The twenty-two year old Weaslette bit down on her bottom lip and coughed quietly to cover her laughter, a bemused expression implanted on her freckle-covered face.

"Oh well, I'll go and open up the store, Hermione. Good luck," she quickly dismissed herself, and lucky for her- Hermione seemed to be too caught up with the infamous ferret to notice the red-head leaving the tiny cafe.

"Now are we going to discuss this marriage thing, or are you just going to glare at me the whole entire time? We don't have much time till the wedding, Granger," Draco sighed loudly before leaning back into his seemingly comfortable, wooden chair. Hermione looked quizzically at him for a moment before bottling up all her frustration, her pride somewhere along the thin line between humility and victory. A weird separation, but overall remotely significant to Hermione's thoughts.

"What do you mean not much time? It'll be quite some time before you turn 24," she couldn't help but blush a bit at Draco's bemused expression. She had gone and looked at Draco's information listed below the letter, after all.

"I never knew you were so interested in me, Granger," he smirked his trademark smirk, his twinkling grey eyes somewhat causing Hermione's body to weaken. He was absolutely handsome, sexy you can say so, and no woman could tell differently to themselves about it! But Hermione was different from them. She merely shook off the feeling intently, soon trying to focus all her attention on his sudden words.

"What do you mean not much time?" she repeated, only without the somewhat inappropriate words.

"I mean, the Ministry doesn't care whether both of the partners are 24, they only care if one of them is," his voice sounded casual with a touch of seriousness as he slowly sipped on his red currant rum. Hermione stared at him as if he was of another species, she couldn't fathom why he was drinking alcohol when it was barely 9 in the morning. Her deep brown eyes widened as his smooth, polished words sunk in.

Inside her somewhat pure noggin, she counted the days left until September 19, the day in which she would turn 24. "Those conniving little.." Hermione quickly paused for a moment, Draco's stare somewhat intoxicating her for a moment. "They had no right not to tell us! We barely have a month to get married!" her voice rung slightly through the hollow-like cafe, thankfully for her, there was merely 3 or so people surrounding them, not counting the staff there, though.

Hermione's well polished face soon transformed to a deep shade of scarlet, quite resembling a bright apple because of her slightly ridiculous outbreak.

"Now, now, no need to get your knickers in a twist," his voice was calm, collected, and yet, his somewhat chilling grey eyes announced an absolutely different story. Hermione opened her mouth, ready to retaliate, but her words were quickly stopped by Draco's sudden remark. "Listen Granger, if we're going to get married, we better learn to not snap at each other every second we get," the Malfoy heir sighed a loud sigh, his eyes bored, as if he had been placed in a locked room with absolutely no entertainment of any kind.

Hermione Jean Granger's shocked expression created a bemused smirk which played gracefully on top of the young man's polished, and somewhat pale face. His eyes soon remaining transfixed at the brown-eyed witch.

"You know, it's not polite to stare.." the words came out somewhat confident with a touch of amusement which made Draco chuckle slightly to himself. The young store owner held a small smile, proud of her witty comment.

"I see you've changed quite a bit, Granger," with another smug look implanted on his priceless, gorgeous face, he once again leaned back against his slight comfortable, deep maroon chair.

"I see you haven't," she slowly retorted before taking a meager sip of her sweet cup of cappuccino. Her coco brown eyes which resembled the light, fluffy drink didn't dare to leave the blonde-haired ferret. He handled his glass filled with a deep red liquid with grace as it tipped towards one direction to the other.

"Well, Granger, now aren't we in for a wild ride?" he winked a seductive wink, a devilish grin implanted on his perfect face. His platinum blonde hair roughly brushed against his somewhat long eyelashes, hiding his vague grey eyes as he took another delight sip of his red currant rum, and yet his eyes still never left Hermione's graceful-like presence. Causing her pumping heart to somewhat melt.

A/N-Thank you for reading Arranged Love, remember to review and favorite!

A/N - Updated 6/29/14

I will no longer be updating this. I will soon be deleting this; I have, however, decided to write another Dramione story that's somewhat parallel to this story. I apologize for the inconvenience and hope that my second attempt at a Dramione fic will go well.

-Saga