Chapter 1
"This is intolerable! As if I don't have enough to deal with! Now they're even trying to dictate who I'm to marry!" Draco Malfoy fumed. "Incendio!" Tossing the flaming pages into the fire, he sat down at the dinner table in a huff.
His mother eyed him calmly. "Now, Draco dear, there's no need to get wound up over this. I'm sure there must be some half-blood or Muggle-born witch out there that won't bring...further...disgrace to the Malfoy name. You must consider that the times have changed. If we are to regain some respect in the Wizarding community again, we must make an attempt to adhere to the whim of the current administration as best we can."
"But Mother -- "
"Please, darling, will you promise at least to go to the Ministry and get a list of candidates? Perhaps interview one or two of them? If you really cannot find anyone suitable, I will resign myself to knowing that I have given birth to the last heir of the Malfoy line."
"Not fair, Mother!" Narcissa did not say anything further, but the steely glint in her eyes gave him pause.
"Oh, very well! I'll go to the bloody Ministry and make a patsy out of myself!" Under his breath, he muttered, "What's the point of being the reputed Slytherin Sex God if I can't have the pick of the lot? Circe's teat! To end up being shackled to some...commoner!"
***
"That damned cow! This is payback for the interview with Harry, isn't it?"
"Oh come, Hermione! Don't pay attention to her!"
"Ginny! Have you read this?!
'The Marriage Act has certainly been a great popularity booster for a heretofore relatively unknown Muggle-born witch, one Hermione Granger, whose only claim to fame to date has been to be one of the best friends of the famous Boy-Who-Defeated-He-Whose-Name-Is-Still-A-Curse-To-Say, Harry Potter. This mousey-looking witch, who works as some lowly employee within the Ministry of Magic, has been receiving a flood of invitations from the heirs of some of the most prominent pure-blood families in the Wizarding world. Sources tell me that besides mail, she has also been receiving photographs, flowers, chocolates, candies, and jewellery from desperate candidates...'"
"So she's intercepted some of your mail. At least she didn't see the one where he included hair samples from..."
"Ugh! Don't even remind me!"
"Well, have you at least considered replying to any of them? I mean, I know things didn't work between you and Ron..."
"Don't worry, we both agreed we're better off as good friends. Besides, I hear he plans to propose to Susan Bones any day now."
"Yeah. Never knew her mum was Muggle-born. Good thing their children will have brains and won't be gits like their father." Hermione snorted.
"Well, in all fairness, Ron is less childish than he was in school."
"Never mind Ron. You haven't answered my question."
"I don't know, Ginny. None of these blokes seem appealing. They're really dull, for starters. Besides, I don't need their connections or their money. According to that Skeeter woman, I can get by just knowing Harry."
"Oh come, they can't all be losers. Let me see some of these...hmmm...nope...ugh, Kyle Simmons, no, no, definitely not him -- that whole family have crossed eyes! Pass...boring...mmm, you may have a point -- "
A sudden pop interrupted them. Beside Hermione's kitchen table stood a nervous-looking house-elf. She grovelled by Hermione's foot and cried, "Please, Miss! Twinkie is sent from my Young Master to beg Miss to have dinner with him. Young Master says to show you that he not a-abuse Twinkie a-and gives, gives Twinkie w-wages..." she showed a handful of Knuts, "Young Master says if Miss will marry him, he will please Miss and g-gives Twinkie c-c-c-c-c-c-clothesssss-oh-boo-hoo-hoo-hoo --" the anguished elf began beating her head against the floor.
"Stop! Please! Twinkie! Don't! I -- I command you to st-stop!" When the house-elf finally calmed down, Hermione said shakily, "Wh-who is your Young Master, Twinkie?"
"Y-young Master Malfoy, M-miss." Twinkie sniffed.
Hermione bit back a snarky remark and silently counted to twenty. When she finally had control of her speech, she said in a stiff voice, "Please tell your Young Master that I would be pleased have dinner with him. I will meet him inside the Leaky Cauldron at 7 pm tomorrow evening, and the restaurant will be of my choosing."
"Th-thank you, Miss. Twinkie is goes now!" With another pop, the house-elf disappeared.
"That bloody, arrogant, underhanded --- git!" Hermione finally exploded. "How dare he mock S.P.E.W.! If I wasn't so against house-elf abuse, I'd order Twinkie to give him a good smack when she returns home!"
"I'm surprised you even agreed to go on a date with him, 'Mione."
"That's only so that I can give him a piece of my mind! Manipulative bastard! Just you wait! I'm going to make him suffer through a Muggle date night, see if he'll remain so cocky!"
"oooOOOOOooo! I can't wait to hear what happens! Shall we go find you a suitable outfit?"
***
True to her word, Hermione dragged Draco Malfoy into Muggle London. They went to her favourite fish 'n chips place and watched a movie. Malfoy was clearly out of his element. By the end of the night, he was relieved to be back in Diagon Alley, where they parted ways.
Hermione couldn't help but gloat. Besides taunting him about his discomfiture, she crammed in as many snarky remarks as seven years worth of bickering at school had built up. Well, that's the last I'll see of the git.
How wrong she was.
After recovering from his disastrous date, Draco struck back. No Mudblood was going to get the best of a Malfoy. This was war.
