Thank you for the reviews- here's chapter 4! Thanks to Ren, my wonderful beta for this story!

Hermione looked up at Draco Malfoy, who now stood in her door, livid. His usually calm demeanour was gone; in its stead was a mask of fury. He was holding his letter and waving it around at her.

"Is this some sort of joke?" he raged at her. Seeing him so angry about their betrothal drained her own misery, leaving only amusement for the moment.

"You mean, you're not pleased?" she asked, smiling benignly at him.

Harry looked at her strangely and answered Malfoy. "It's no joke, Malfoy; I wish it was, believe me."

"There's got to be some way to fix it," Malfoy insisted looking past Hermione, instead choosing to focus on Harry. "Isn't there, Potter? I can't imagine that you want Granger married to me, any more than I do."

"You have that right," Harry affirmed. "But it's final. There's nothing I can do."

Malfoy's eyes flashed angrily as they returned to Hermione's. "What are you smiling about?" he snarled.

"I'm just imagining how I'm going to redecorate your house," Hermione said dreamily. "I think red is a wonderful colour."

Malfoy just stared at her for a moment, speechless, before leaving her office and slamming the door behind him. Hermione dissolved into laughter. "Did you see his face? Priceless."

Harry looked blankly at her. "I thought you'd be more upset about this," he said.

"Oh, I'm plenty upset, Harry. That Hat must have had too much fire-whiskey before it decided the matches," Hermione told him. "He was just so angry, I couldn't resist."

"When he calms down, he'll realise what you did," Harry warned. "You have to live with him for a year; it wouldn't do to antagonise him so early on. We should get to work on your negotiations. I expect that's where he'll be headed, straight away."

"Alright," Hermione settled, "Let's begin."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Hermione arrived back to the Ministry at precisely one-fifty the following afternoon, and entered the office designated for the negotiations. Harry was already there, as he had been hearing cases all day, and he smiled tiredly at her. Malfoy's negotiator was alone.

"How are you?' Hermione asked Harry as she sat down.

"Been better. The last couple actually hexed each other," Harry laughed.

"Is that why they took my wand, out front?" Hermione asked, and Harry nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes as two o'clock came and went. "If he doesn't show, do I still have to do this?" Hermione asked, finally breaking the silence.

Harry nodded. "I'll just have to go track him down and lug him in," he stated, before realising why she asked. "Sorry," he added.

Before Hermione could reply, the doors burst open and Malfoy strutted through them and into the room; robes billowing. The anger he'd shown the day before was gone; his face was a mask of cold indifference. Following him, were three men struggling to keep up. "These are my solicitors," Malfoy said shortly. "They will be listening to make sure everything goes acceptably."

"For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, I don't want a galleon of your precious money!" Hermione snapped.

Malfoy ignored her outburst as he took his seat opposite her. His solicitors sat behind him.

"Can we begin?" Harry asked. "This is your Wizard Preservation Act Negotiator, Phillip Mewes."

"Charmed," Malfoy said blandly, barely glancing at the man. "Let's get this over with." One of his solicitors took a long piece of parchment out of his robes, and handed it to Harry. Taking it, he grimaced at something written on it before handing it on to Hermione, who began to read.

"Let's start with the ceremony," Harry said, taking out a parchment with their names neatly printed on top. "Any ideas?"

"I don't care, as long as it's quick," Hermione said.

"That anxious to marry me, Granger?" Malfoy smirked at her.

"I meant a quick ceremony, as in no fuss," she said, irritated.

"That's fine," Malfoy said, and Harry wrote the agreement down.

"Residence?" Mewes asked.

"Malfoy Manor," Malfoy said. "I'll give her a suite at the opposite end of the house from mine."

"I don't want to live with your mother, Malfoy."

"My mother lives in Italy now, Granger," Malfoy said. "And even if she didn't, there is no way I would live in that hovel you call a house. I'll pay the rent for the year, and have elves clean it once a month."

"Fine," Hermione agreed, before adding, "Not elves, though. You have to pay someone."

Malfoy glared at her. "Why would I do that, when I have perfectly good elves?" he asked.

"Malfoy, just agree. Save the arguments for more important things," Harry said, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. Malfoy nodded reluctantly, and Harry added it to the list.

"Money?"

"I don't want anything from him," Hermione said, glaring at Malfoy from across the table.

"Nonsense, Granger. As my wife, you'll have certain duties to perform. You'll have a monthly allowance for clothes and other essentials, plus, I'll give you a settlement at the end of the year. It's all there," he said, waving his hand at the parchment in front of her.

Harry glanced over the paper, to where the settlement details were located. "It's generous," he whispered to Hermione, "You should take it."

"But Harry-"

"He's right, Hermione," he interrupted, "He does entertaining, and the like. You'll need some suitable things."

"Why would I bother to be around when he entertains?" Hermione asked.

"Did you even bother to read your letter, Granger?" Malfoy snapped at her.

Hermione turned to Harry for an explanation.

"You have to at least try to get along, Hermione. Not ignore each other, all year. The point of the law is for it to work. You must act like husband and wife; go out to a restaurant together for dinner, host Malfoy's dinners, or balls together; go on holiday together."

Hermione didn't respond, but nodded to the money settlement. Harry moved on.

"Children?"

"There won't be any children!" Hermione snapped.

"We have to put it in, Hermione."

"I'll raise them," Malfoy said.

"You most certainly will not!" Hermione refused him, angrily. "I'll raise my own children, thank you very much."

"The custody and support terms, offered in regards to children, are detailed in the parchment," a solicitor spoke up.

Hermione glanced at the parchment to where indicated. "Shared custody. Why would I agree to that?"

"Why are you going on about this?" Malfoy asked, in a condescending tone. "There won't be any children, anyway."

"Then why the shared custody?" Hermione asked.

"In case the contracts are ever leaked or made public, of course," Malfoy spat, frustrated with her. "I don't want it to look as though I don't care about my children."

"Fine, fine," Hermione pushed the parchment away from her once again, and sighed.

"Are you sure, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Harry, I'm not going to fight over non-existent children." Hermione crossed her arms and sent a look of satisfaction to Malfoy across the table.

"Now, um…relations," Harry mumbled, blushing.

"I don't care about his family," Hermione blandly stated.

"I don't think those are the kind of 'relations' he meant, Granger." Malfoy said, leering at her.

"What? Oh!" Hermione felt her face turn bright red as Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "He can do whatever he wants."

"Really? Anything? Make sure you write that down," Malfoy ordered one of his solicitors, who began to write furiously.

"No! Stop writing!" Harry bellowed. "She doesn't understand."

"I meant 'anything', as long as it's with other people," Hermione said, her blush increasing before she quickly added, "and only if it isn't at the Manor!"

"He can't, Hermione," Harry said to her, in a low voice. "Once again, you are supposed to try to make this work. You'll be bound for the year; neither of you can cheat on the other."

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Hermione hissed at him.

"I thought he'd agree to be celibate for the year." Harry whispered back.

"Well, I'm not sleeping with him," Hermione said loudly. "He'll just have to take care of things himself," she added with a sniff.

"I am not going to go without sex for a whole year," Malfoy snapped back at her.

"Why would you want to sleep with me anyway? I thought you hated me."

"I do. Anything's better than nothing, though. Besides," he said, looking at her in a way that made her skin crawl, "you're not as hideous looking nowadays, as you were in school. Just keep your mouth shut, and you'll at least be enough to get the job done."

"Why, you arrogant, self-centred –,"

"Hermione!" Harry yelled over her enraged ranting. "Stop it. If he won't agree to the celibacy, you have to agree on something, or the Ministry will decide and that will be worse; I promise you."

"What would the Ministry say is a compromise?" Hermione whispered.

"They've been giving out once a week, so far, to everyone." Harry whispered back.

"What? How on earth would that be enforced?"

"Well, if the other party complains, you'd be breaking the contract, as well as the law. Agree with him on something, and then try to talk him out of it later."

"Fine," Hermione said aloud, without looking at Malfoy. "One time."

"That's a compromise?" Malfoy laughed. "Once a week."

"Once every three months."

"Once every two weeks."

"Once a month."

"Once a month, and holidays," Malfoy said obstinately, leaning back in his chair. "That's my final offer, or the Ministry can decide."

"Fine," Hermione fumed, wishing she were not still blushing. "Legal, recognised holidays."

"And birthdays," Malfoy added. "Mine's coming up, very soon."

Hermione bit her tongue and looked down, as Harry wrote furiously. "Moving on," he said quickly, so that Hermione wouldn't have the chance to object again. "Work?"

"She can work, as long as it doesn't interfere with her duties as my wife, or Hostess," Malfoy smirked, putting his hands behind his head.

"Like you can dictate whether or not I work," Hermione said, angry again. "I can –,"

"Hermione! Let it go, until he signs the bloody contract," Harry whispered, furiously. "Antagonise him, and he'll change his mind just to spite you," he added, causing Hermione to let out sigh.

"Fine," she then bit out, as Harry continued to write in a hurried, uneven scrawl.

"Do you want to keep the Malfoy name, if you divorce?" Mewes asked.

"When we divorce; and for that matter, I never intend to use it even while we're married," Hermione told him.

"Yes, you will," Malfoy ordered, darkly. "No wife of mine will keep her maiden name. I'm not budging on this one, Granger."

"Why do you care?"

"It's a question of reputation. It would be insulting for you not to take it. Go back to your maiden name when we divorce."

"I think it's more a question of you controlling me," Hermione snapped.

"Table it to the Ministry then," Malfoy snapped back. "They'll agree with me. Although, if you do that, I intend to take back every compromise I made; then the issue about our 'relations', in particular, can go back to them as well. Don't think for a second that I don't know what they're handing out. So think about that, before you decide."

"You really are a horrible man," Hermione whispered furiously, her eyes welling with frustrated tears. "Fine. Whatever he says."

Harry glared at Malfoy, as he unwillingly wrote the agreement down. "Watch it, Malfoy," he warned in a low voice.

Malfoy just rolled his eyes at him. "Anything else?"

Harry scanned the document. "No, I think that covers everything but the ceremony date," he said as he pulled out a large book from somewhere beneath the table. "I take it that you want the Ministry to use the standard ceremony?"

Both Hermione and Malfoy nodded.

"Monday at ten-fifteen? You'll be done by ten-thirty; back at the office by eleven."

"No honeymoon?" Malfoy feigned disappointment. "That's fine," he then agreed, before turning his attention to Hermione. "I'll send elves over to begin packing your things, tomorrow. They'll have everything of yours at the Manor by Monday." He stood up, and the forgotten solicitors followed suit. "Where do I sign?"

Harry handed the document to Mewes, who read it over and nodded.

"Here," the man then said, showing Malfoy where his signature was needed. He did so quickly, and smirked at Hermione one last time. "See you Monday, dear." Without waiting for a response, he left.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at his retreating form. "Git," she muttered to herself as she took the parchment from Harry. There, under Malfoy's own sprawling signature, she signed her own tidy, neat one. "Why do I feel like I'm selling my soul to the devil?" she asked.

Harry chuckled. "It won't be as bad as it seems now. He'll get tired of harassing you after a few weeks, and leave you alone. He's trying to bother you; just ignore it."

"Let's see how easy it is for you to ignore it, when I bring him 'round to dinners, and Ron's wedding," Hermione told him.