Tuesday and Wednesday passed in a blur for Hermione. She was now completely submerged into the world of the DMLE, and the massive amounts of paperwork that the department received. Amelia had courteously asked her to lunch on Tuesday, to which Hermione graciously accepted. They chatted sporadically about minor things as they munched on sandwiches from the Ministry cafe.
Wednesday was a day that buried her up to her nose in Auror reports that she needed to read and review. Each one had to be individually cataloged and sent to the right recipient. She spent most of midday interviewing the reporting Aurors, getting confirmations for filing. There was a lot of small talk and pleasantries involved, and by the end of the day, Hermione was exhausted.
When she arrived home, she shed her stuffy work robes for something a bit more comfortable and flopped onto the couch. Crookshanks followed her with a swoosh of his ginger tail, making a satisfied chitter when he found a suitable dent in the worn couch. Hermione was about to turn on the telly when a tapping on the window alerting her that an owl was requesting access. She found it strange that someone would be sending a post so late, but she opened the window anyway.
"Thank you, friend." Hermione greeted the avian as it extended its leg out to her. The owl gave her a small hoot in response. Glancing at the small table next to the window, Hermione snagged a small piece of dried apple that she kept available in a jar for the bird's treat. She handed the small owl its due payment, and it flew away into the night.
The bird had been unfamiliar, and Hermione looked to the letter in her hand. The wax seal was definitely familiar. The Malfoy family crest was perfectly pressed into the signature emerald colored wax. She did not know from which Malfoy the letter came, but she opened it anyway.
To Granger,
I will be replenishing my potion ingredients at Millthrope Apothecary tomorrow at 1 o'clock, and would like to invite you to join me. I wish to discuss the upcoming meeting of our betrothal contract. Please let me know if you are available.
Sincerely,
D. M.
The letter was concise and to the point, and even more surprising, it was cordial. Like two friends making plans for coffee.
I suppose we should discuss the contract. Hermione thought to herself. She knew good and well that the sooner she got the meeting over with, the sooner Narcissa and Lucius could do whatever they needed to do to announce the engagement.
She and Malfoy could take time after they were married to get to know one another. Getting the marriage sealed and saving Draco was the thing that needed to be focused on. Maybe if they signed the betrothal contract sooner rather than later, Lucius may be inclined to actually remove the Dotis Nomine claim from her vault.
Moving away from the window after closing it, Hermione walked to her small secretarial desk that sat in the corner of her living room. The small desk was just large enough to hold a small stack of parchment, a few quills and pots of varying ink, and the wax pot and stamp Hermione used to seal her letters. Gathering the materials she needed to compose a letter, Hermione quickly jotted down a response to Malfoy's invitation.
Malfoy,
I am available to meet you tomorrow to discuss the contract. Thank you for your offer. I appreciate it.
Sincerely,
H.G.
Finishing off the note with a seal of wax, Hermione once again opened the window, and beckoned for Elma. The owl arrived shortly, and graciously accepted the letter that Hermione tied neatly to her leg. With a slice of dried apple in her beak, Elma soared of into the night to deliver the message to Malfoy
—00000—
Tuesday had been an eventful day for Draco. After his impromptu visit his mother, he had owled Mr. Jespers, the family solicitor. The man had already been contacted by Lucius, and instructed to begin a betrothal contract between Draco and Hermione. The youngest Malfoy hadn't been surprised at his father's actions. Lucius had always been proactive when it came to his personal scheming.
Mr. Jesper's response had made him aware that Granger's solicitor had already been contacted, and that scheduling the signing of the contract was the next step in the process. They were simply waiting for a response from Granger's solicitor to take further action. Draco thought the situation was handled to its extent, until a conversation with Theo and Daphne made him aware that maybe it wasn't.
Wednesday afternoon found Draco on the grounds of Nott Manor, where he and Theo had a standing routine of Quidditch drills. After Nott, Sr. was placed in Azkaban, the first thing Theo did when he inherited his family's estate was build a state-of-the-art practice pitch on the grounds of the manor. He had torn down his father's beloved falconry and replaced it with a never fading field of grass, with hoops for each team at either end. Theo had even instructed the builders to create wooden bleachers for spectators. It was a masterpiece all on its own, and it was Theo's brainchild. His greatest pride.
So every Wednesday afternoon at two o'clock, Theo and Draco met on the field for a game of friendly fire and drills. Theo's ancient butler, Nevin, would release the quaffle, and the men would spar around for a few hours. Occasionally Draco would return to his Seeker roots, and take a few gos with the Snitch. It was a great way to stay in shape, but it was cathartic in a way as well. Getting to do something that was so pertinent to Draco's childhood. Before Voldemort. Before the war. Quidditch was his refuge.
"That was a cheap shot, Malfoy. Real cheap." Theo chatisted his oldest mate as they finished up for the day, both taking in some hydration after an intense training session. Draco had blocked Theo from scoring a goal, and now the git was accusing him of spelling the quaffle.
"Move on, Nott. It's practice." Draco rolled his eyes at his friend, leaning his broom against the deck furniture that littered the patio where they were chugging down glasses of water.
"Practice my arse! You still blocked me." Theo was about to go on one of his tirades, when help came in the form of an impeccably dressed Daphne Greengrass stepping out onto the flagstone patio.
"Will you be quiet, Theodore? I could hear you all the way in the day room." Daphne scolded her boyfriend as she approached the pair, and Theo almost melted at her request. Draco rolled his eyes at the lovebirds, an action that didn't escape Daphne's sharp eye.
"Don't you go rolling your eyes, Draco Lucius Malfoy. It's not polite to roll your eyes at a woman." Daphne gave Draco a knowing look.
"I don't think Granger would appreciate it either." Theo decided to joke, and Daphne popped her boyfriend behind the ear in response. But the joke struck a chord with Draco, and Daphne instantly noticed the change in his demeanor.
"How is the whole 'Granger and marriage' situation going, anyway?" The conversation had turned serious with Daphne's question, and Draco honestly didn't know how to answer.
"She agreed to the match. We're having a meeting to sign the betrothal contract. Soon there will be an announcement, and then a wedding, I suppose." Draco stated simply. Daphne gave him an unimpressed look, and Theo sipped his water quietly. Draco knew at that moment that he was going to be receiving a lecture.
"A wedding, you suppose? Real romantic, Draco. Have you even discussed what a Pureblood betrothal contract looks like with Hermione?" Daphne asked, using Granger's given name to emphasize the importance of her question.
"I'm sure her solicitor will explain how things like this work to her, Daph. Besides, it's an arrangement that neither of us are particularly fond of. Romance isn't a part of the plan. She's marrying me to save my life. That's it." Draco moved to sit down at one of the tables scattered about the patio. Daphne followed after him, the heels of her shoes clacking against the stone. Theo tailed behind her, watching the argument unfold.
"It doesn't matter if this is a romantic pairing or not. Is Hermione Granger not a Muggle-born?" Daphne questioned him, and Draco nodded. Of course Granger was Muggle-born. Everyone knew that.
"Then she probably has no bloody idea how complex and demanding a Pureblood betrothal contract is. You need to warn her, if not help her set some boundaries. Otherwise she is going to walk into that signing meeting completely unaware." Daphne warned, and Draco sighed. The blonde haired witch wasn't wrong. Granger probably had no idea the real complexities of a Pure Blooded betrothal contract, no matter how many books she read. Information about such documents was quite elusive, kept hidden away from the general public by Pureblood families. The Sacred Twenty-Eight were obnoxious in that way.
"Daph's got a good point, Drake. You should probably warn Granger about what's going to be thrown at her." Theo agreed with his girlfriend, and Draco finally caved to his friends.
"Fine. What do I tell her then?" Draco asked, and Daphne immediately spewed advice at him.
"Make sure to tell her how long the document will be. Mention that certain things can be altered, and if she feels uncomfortable with a part, she can contest it. And most importantly, make her aware of the consummation clause." Daphne listed out her top pieces of help, and Draco was following until the last bit hit him like a brick.
The consummation clause. Bloody hell. He thought to himself.
It wasn't that Draco Malfoy was a prude. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was just the thought of having to share such intimacy with Granger that made him feel like a wad of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum was wedged in his throat. He knew that the witch would most likely be repulsed by the thought of sharing such actions with him, but duty came before pride. Granger would just have to understand the predicament they were in.
"I'll remember those for when I speak to Granger. The question is, when should I? With her work at the Ministry, Granger is busy." Draco mused, and Theo suggested an idea that was actually rather convenient.
"You mentioned earlier that you needed to restock on some ingredients for potions, right?" Theo asked, and Draco nodded, recalling their earlier conversation.
"Invite her to join you at the apothecary. You can speak and shop. Make it a casual thing." Theo's idea surprisingly made sense, and Draco pondered it. It worked well with his schedule, and it was informal enough to be considered non-threatening.
"Alright. I'll send an owl when I get home." Draco agreed, and Theo shook his head.
"You can send that invite from here, mate. That way she gets it when she gets home from work. You can borrow an owl if you wish. I'm sure that Daph also planned on inviting you to stay for dinner." Theo looked at his girlfriend, and she smiled at the idea.
"Of course I was. It's roast chicken with vegetables and rice, if you don't mind?" Daphne inquired, and Draco shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't picky, as long as the food was familiar.
"Okay then. Why don't you both get a shower before dinner? You smell." Daphne instructed, before making her way back into the main house. Theo watched her with an adoring gaze, and Draco couldn't help but wonder if maybe he and Granger would ever share the familiarity that Daph and Theo did.
Only time would tell. And Draco, unfortunately, did not have a lot of that left.
"Race you to the best shower?" Theo proposed, and Draco accepted his challenge.
And off they went, sweaty limbs and all.