A/N Hi everyone, sorry it's taken me a few days to update. It's really hard to get time at the computer over the weekend. When the baby sleeps the big kids want me to do 'arting' with them...

Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews, follows and faves. On with the silliness.


Lucius leaves in a whirl of well-cut robes, expensive cologne, and thinly veiled threats. Despite the slight anomaly of his long-standing virginity, he is clearly a man who is used to getting what he wants. Denied his objective, he becomes tetchy. Hermione is not sure this is a characteristic she wishes for in a husband.

She bites back her principles and summons one of the house elves to come and help her with her hair. The little creature squeaks in horror at the dishevelled mane which has replaced her sleek bridal updo. The elf summons two of her colleagues who begin applying all sorts of potions and charms in an attempt to repair the damage. Despite a good deal of tutting none of them ask what happened to her to turn her from blushing bride into debauched hussy. They will have been tied to the family for long enough that they are most likely aware of the ritual. She blushes frantically at the thought of them discussing her fate whilst preparing the wedding feast.

In a remarkably short space of time, she is returned to her former splendour and the elves leave her nursing a cup of tea and her dilemma.

Could she really marry Lucius? His offer, whilst unexpected, had been genuine and judging by his surly demeanour when she had not immediately acquiesced he did actually want to marry her. No matter how bizarre that might seem.

She closes her eyes and is immediately assailed by images of Lucius' graceful fingers running over her exposed skin. She shifts in her seat wincing a little as she does. Twice in one morning with a man as well-endowed as Lucius is probably not the most sensible introduction to sexual intercourse.

She summons a parchment and quill and, as is her wont, divides it into two columns which she further subdivides into pros and cons.

She starts with Lucius as he is foremost in her mind. She is horrified to find her list of pros to be quickly growing. Lucius is handsome, well built, has good hair, smells delicious, shows a natural aptitude for sex and desires her physically. In addition to these impressive qualities, he is more powerful than Draco. Whilst Lucius too has been affected by the post-war fallout he has business dealings all over the world and is still a figure to be reckoned with. Horrified that Lucius appears to be dominating the field Hermione quickly scribbles down domineering and pureblood supremacist in the cons column.

It takes her much longer to categorise Draco. He has been a good friend to her and it seems unfair to comment on the fact that he is less handsome, less well built, has less good hair and doesn't smell as delicious as his father. It's not that Draco doesn't possess these traits to some degree; they are simply less abundant. Hermione doesn't know what Draco's sexual prowess is like, but she knows for certain that he does not desire her physically. The feeling is mutual.

Draco does have his pros though. Friendly, easy to talk to and liked by Harry and Ginny has to count for something. As does actually likes me. She stares at those words for a long moment. She and Lucius are not friends; they barely know each other and would be embarking on a marriage based solely on sexual attraction.

On the other hand, there is no physical chemistry between her and Draco. Absolutely none. The thought of having sex with him had been unpleasant at best, but now, having experienced sex with a man she is attracted to the idea is repugnant. She can't deny that Lucius' response to her is flattering just as Draco's indifference is not. They have never discussed fidelity, but Hermione does not expect for a minute that Draco plans to eschew all other sexual partners in her favour. This leaves a rather unpleasant taste in her mouth. She doesn't care where Draco dips his wand, but the thought of Rita Skeeter publishing a damming exposé Of Draco Malfoy's latest indiscretion leaving her open to public pity and ridicule? That doesn't sit well with her at all. Lucius has made his intentions perfectly clear. He wants her and only her.

Hermione drains her tea and tucks her wand into her garter. She needs to speak to Draco.

"You want to what?"

If Hermione had thought Lucius' robes were ostentatious then Draco's have reached a new pinnacle in overdone. He is draped in so much silk and brocade it is hard to see where the robes end and the wizard begins. Not that she's looking that closely.

"I want to marry your father."

She finds Draco in his chambers. These comprise a large suite of rooms in the east wing of the manor. Draco is in his informal sitting room and had been staring rather pensively at a wizarding chess board before Hermione entered. Now he is staring at her as if she is a particularly difficult puzzle.

"You have actually met my father, I take it?"

She rolls her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me about Primae Noctis?"

Draco has the grace to colour a little at that. "I didn't know when I suggested we get married; I promise you that, Granger." He moves to the sideboard and pours himself a very small measure of firewhisky. Hermione shakes her head when he raises the decanter and looks inquiringly in her direction. "When father told me what you would have to do, I confess I was too frightened to tell you."

Hermione snorts. "You were probably right to be. I imagine I'd have hexed you."

"You obviously didn't hex my father though." Draco tilts his head to one side. "Have you done it already?"

"None of your business." She feels the blush that will provide his answer stealing across her face.

"You have!" Draco takes a seat opposite the chess board once more. "How was it? No, don't answer that. It must have been pretty spectacular if you've decided to marry him and not me." He took a sip of his drink. "He always seemed like such a cold fish, but I knew the old boy must have hidden depths."

"Draco-"

"Oh don't worry, I'm not offended." Draco takes another sip of his drink. "At least I don't think I am. You could at least have given me a shot. I'm sure I could have given a good account of myself."

"Malfoy, you've told me on more than one occasion that you find me less attractive than your racing broom."

"Well, that's true." Draco looks speculatively at her. "Still it's the principle of the matter." He frowns. "My father didn't Imperio you did he?"

"No!" Although if he had I wouldn't be able to tell you, would I?"

"Good point." Draco points his wand at her and gives a half-hearted, "Finite incantatum."

Hermione stands and watches him.

"Do you still want to marry my father?"

"Not exactly," Hermione admits as she takes a seat next to him. "I don't really want to marry either of you, to be honest."

"But you've decided my father is the better option?"

Hermione nods.

"Merlin, Granger was he really that good?"

"Actually he was." Hermione refuses to be embarrassed. None of this is her fault she reminds herself. "But that's not why I want to marry him. Well, not entirely."

"Why then?" Draco moves one of his bishops then apparently rethinks his strategy and moves it back.

"He wants me." She is not blushing, she is absolutely not blushing.

Draco is smirking. "And it's very important for you to give him what he wants?"

"No, of course not. But I do want to be desired, Malfoy. I hadn't realised before how important it is to me."

Draco purses his lips. "I'm sorry I can't give you that."

"It's not your fault. I don't fancy you either."

He winces slightly. "Still, my father? He's not a nice person you know. He might want you now, but what about in six months or a year?"

Hermione shakes her head. "I don't know. What was he like with your mother?"

Draco frowns. "Sad," he eventually says. "You must have seen how he behaves toward everyone else; demanding; exacting even. He wasn't like that with her. He constantly tried to please her." He gives a humourless laugh. "It never worked though. Maybe if she was a bit nicer to him he wouldn't be such an arse to everyone else."

"Maybe." Hermione feels uncomfortable now as if she is spying on Lucius via the medium of Draco.

"If you really want to marry him I won't stand in your way." Draco moves his bishop decisively this time.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy."

"Don't be. I've had my concerns about this whole arrangement right from the minute I suggested it."

"Why didn't you say something before?"

"You seemed so certain. You're quite frightening once you set your mind to something. Then mother got her planning hat on and it seemed like it was too late to pull out at that point. Besides, I was enjoying aggravating my father. Are you absolutely sure he wants to marry you?"

"Yes, Draco, I am absolutely sure that I wish to marry her." Lucius billows into the room in a swirl of brocade and cologne. Hermione gets such a fright that she only just stops herself from falling off the sofa. Draco merely rolls his eyes.

"Hello, Father." He proceeds to ignore Lucius and leans forward scrutinising his chess board with exaggerated attention. Eventually, he places his fingers on the black queen.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Lucius looms over the board.

"I'm not sure you're making the best decisions at the moment, Father." Draco decisively moves the queen.

Lucius lets out a loud sigh. "Always so impatient," he mutters and leans down to move the white knight. "Checkmate," he says smugly as the white knight decapitates the black queen. Draco curses under his breath. The room ripples with testosterone.

"For goodness sake!" Hermione gets to her feet hands planted on her hips. What are you two going to do next, thumb wrestling? A duel?

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea." Draco gets to his feet. "What do you say, Father? How about a duel for Granger's hand in marriage."

"How about you sit down and shut up." Hermione whips her wand from her garter and hits Draco with a particularly vicious Jelly legs jinx.

"As for you…" she advances on Lucius her wand drawn ignoring the flash of heat that lit up his cold eyes at the sight of her exposed thigh. "What on earth do you think you're doing here?"

Lucius adjusts his cuffs looking unperturbed by her aggression. "I'm here to withdraw my permission for your marriage."

"What? You can't do that...the contract is signed!" Draco attempts to stand, and slumps spectacularly to the floor.

Hermione scowls at Lucius. "Why on earth would you withdraw your consent at this stage?"

"I would have thought that was obvious. Draco can't marry without my permission, not without jeopardizing his inheritance anyway. If I withdraw my consent then you will have to marry me."

Hermione lowers her wand and rubs her eyes. "That's probably the least romantic proposal I've ever heard."

"Technically, I proposed to you earlier when you said you'd think about it. Not the most romantic response I've ever heard."

"Well I have thought about it," she lowers her voice to a whisper and glances in Draco's direction. "I had decided I was going to take you up on your ridiculous proposal until you barged in here and started acting like a complete arse." Her voice rises shrilly at the end of the sentence.

"How dare you-" Lucius begins before he clearly realises from the set of Hermione's jaw that aggression is very much the wrong response. "I'm sorry." He spits the apology out as if it tastes particularly bad. "I just wanted a little extra assurance that you would make the correct decision."

"No, you didn't." Draco has found his feet again and staggers between the two of them. "You just wanted to get one up on me just like you always do. It's pathetic, that's what it is…"

Quite before she knows what is happening the two Malfoys have each other at wand point. Draco throws the first hex Hermione thinks, but then they are flying so fast and thick she barely manages to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Hermione has never seen anything quite like it before. If she had been told that she would have witnessed a duel between Draco and Lucius Malfoy she might have imagined there would be dark curses flying everywhere, but they are quite the opposite. They both seem to have a vast repertoire of schoolyard jinxes which they throw with abandon. She supposes she ought to be relieved that they are not seriously trying to injure each other.

Finally, unable to take the stupidity a moment longer she casts reducto in the direction of Draco's sofa. The two Malfoy's turn in unison to stare first at the exploded chair with its stuffing erupting in all directions and then at Hermione herself.

"I liked that sofa," Draco mutters.

"Enough," she speaks very firmly, as if to children. "You are both behaving abominably, you should be ashamed of yourselves. I'm not a toy to be fought over." She glowers at Lucius. "You should apologise to your son. And you" —she rounds on Draco who wipes the beginnings of a smirk from his face— "should apologise to your father. Now, in forty-five minutes the Wizarding World will be waiting to see me marry a Malfoy. I don't particularly want to marry either of you right now, but there's a promotion coming up at work next week that I'd very much like to be considered for. So why don't you two just sort it out amongst yourselves?" She storms out of the room slamming the door behind her.

"I don't know what I was thinking," she says moments later to a shocked looking Ginny who his offering her a glass of water.

"She needs something stronger than that Gin." George chivalrously offers Hermione a drink from his hip flask.

"No thanks, George, I think I'd best keep a clear head."

"Your head obviously wasn't that clear if you shagged Malfoy senior on the day you were supposed to marry his son," Harry points out his green eyes screwed up with confusion.

"She had to, Harry, weren't you listening?" Ginny pats Hermione's back comfortingly. "It's a nasty business that Primae Noctis."

"You've heard of it?" Hermione asks.

"Oh yes. It's not nearly as common as it used to be, but I remember mum telling me about it. Good job the Weasleys never adopted it - imagine if mum had had to shag Grandad Weasley!" The assembled Weasleys and Harry all sniggered.

"What I don't understand though is why on earth you didn't just say you wanted to marry Lucius. If he was the one you wanted?"

Hermione buries her face in her hands in response to Ginny's innocuous question.

"I was angry with him," she wails. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of winning over Draco.

"Then why didn't you pick Draco?"

"Because I want to marry Luciuuuuuus," she is really sobbing now although somewhere in the back of her mind is the thought that this is just pre-wedding hysteria and one of her friends ought to slap her.

"Are you really sure about this whole thing, Hermione?" Harry seems horrified at being forced to take up the now vacant position as the voice of reason. "I could understand you marrying Draco...sort of…but Lucius...or leaving it to chance? That doesn't really seem like you."

"Well I've made my bed now" —Hermione squares her shoulders and wipes away the tears which have caused her mascara to run— "now I have to lie in it with one Malfoy or another."

The same long-suffering house elf is sought out to tidy up Hermione's face and she is returned to her former glory for the second time that day. She curses herself for the poorly timed fit of pique. What if neither Malfoy wants to marry her now? She dismisses the thought. Their family has just as much to gain from the union as she does. She tells herself that it's really no disaster if she ends up marrying Draco and not Lucius. That had after all been the plan all along. She has spent the last year as the fiancé of Draco Malfoy; she could not, therefore, complain over becoming Mrs. Draco Malfoy.

Still, every time she closes her eyes Lucius' stern face is there at the forefront of her mind. There is undoubtedly something between them. At the very least a pheromone driven physical chemistry, but she can't help but wonder if, given the chance, it might be something more.

"I'll probably never know," she says to herself. The sad truth is that while Draco knows and likes her well enough to put up with her pre-wedding strop Lucius does not. He is probably, at this very moment, congratulating himself on a narrow escape from a hormone-fuelled marriage to a nagging shrew. And I'm lucky not to be marrying an evil, Machiavellian, manipulative prude, she thinks firmly.

A/N sorry - I feel this is a bit all filler and no thriller! The next chapter is written, but needs some heavy editing - I'll hopefully have it up soon.