The next day, Hermione sat in the middle of her living room floor, surrounded by boxes and Malfoy's house elves.

"I can do it!" she told one, shooing him away.

Horrified at the thought, he wrung his little, knobbly hands, "But Miss," he pleaded. "Master says Punky must do the packing; not Miss!"

"You can move the things that I'm bringing to the Manor," she said, waving at the packed trunks that were shoved against a wall. "The things that I am storing for the year, I want to do."

"Let the poor elf do his job, Hermione," Ginny interrupted from her spot on the sofa. She was too large to be of much help, but she was keeping Hermione company.

"Fine," Hermione relented, standing up as the elf squealed with delight and began to pack. Hermione left him to his whims and sat beside Ginny on the sofa, sighing. "I can't believe this is happening!"

"I can't believe I get to see Malfoy Manor," Ginny said, grinning. "I can't wait. How soon will you invite us over?"

"Next weekend, I guess," Hermione said, sighing. "I suppose I should go get him a ring or something. How much do you think that will cost?"

"Oh, in old wizarding families the men never wear rings, it's tradition," Ginny told her.

"One less thing for me to worry about," Hermione said, getting up once again to put some shirts that she remembered wanting to take with her, in her trunk.

An elf squealed, "No, Miss!" and grabbed the pile from her, before doing the task himself.

"Why on earth did he send so many elves?" Ginny asked, looking around her. "This is only a one-bedroom flat."

"He did it, because he knows that I hate elf labour," Hermione said, sitting back down. "He did it to upset me."

Ginny laughed. "How immature!" she said, adding, "Harry said that you fought like cats and dogs during the whole negotiation."

"Because he argued about things he knew would annoy me, not things that would really cause him detriment!" Hermione explained to her, frustrated. "We agreed on money and where to live, straight away. It was petty things that I know he doesn't even care about, that were the worst. Like my name. He just wants me to change it, because he knows it will upset me to be a Malfoy. When I wouldn't agree, he threatened to take back his sex compromise!"

"His what?" Her eyes widened, before she smirked at Hermione, "What sex compromise?"

"Harry didn't tell you?" Ginny shook her head. "He refused to agree to abstinence, and Harry said if we didn't agree on something, the Ministry would decide, and not in my favour. So we made a compromise."

"Of?" Ginny prodded.

"Once a month and legal holidays," Hermione muttered, blushing. "He made some crack about his birthday being soon, but I think I can talk him out of it."

"Why?" Ginny asked, astonished, "I've heard he's wonderful in bed; just use him, Hermione, he will be your husband, after all."

"You're mad," Hermione laughed. "I find him repellent."

"His personality; yes, I agree. But he is gorgeous, Hermione, even you have to admit that much. Just tell him to keep his mouth shut unless it's busy with actions, not words," she smirked devilishly.

Hermione thought for a moment. "He is handsome," she admitted, "But I couldn't."

"Of course you could!" Ginny grinned. "And, you should! When's the last time you had a boyfriend, Hermione? Two, three years ago? That's a long time."

"I'll say," a voice said behind them, filling Hermione with dread. "No wonder you're such a bitch, Granger. Merlin knows you probably haven't shagged in years."

"What are you doing here?" Hermione demanded; afraid to turn around with her quickly flushing face.

"Just checking to see how the elves are doing," Malfoy walked over to the nearest elf. "Granger's letting you work?"

"Yes, Master Malfoy," it squeaked. "Miss said that Master was very handsome!"

"Did she now?" Malfoy grinned, as Hermione cringed with embarrassment. "That's nice to know, Punky." He moved closer to Hermione; close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek. "Good thing for you, my birthday is in two weeks."

Hermione quickly moved away from him. "Was there anything else that you needed, Malfoy?"

"Actually, yes. I just came to let you know to wait for me, after work tomorrow. You won't be able to apparate to the Manor without me." He finally took notice of Ginny sitting on the couch, and did a double take. "Weasley; you got fat."

"It's Potter, and she's pregnant. You know that," Hermione snapped at him. "Goodbye then."

Malfoy ignored her and began to peer through the boxes. "These are horrid," he said, pointing to the contents of her trunk. "You might as well throw them away. I won't have any wife of mine wearing rags like that. You'll have to go get new clothes."

"I like my clothes!" Hermione protested.

"I don't care. You have to be more presentable."

"Or what? The contract's signed Malfoy; you've nothing to hold over me anymore."

"Of course I do. I can make you hold up your 'wifely' duties for my birthday, or I could conveniently forget," he smirked at her. "The choice is yours."

Hermione gaped at him, her mouth hanging open. "You're blackmailing me?"

"Of course not; I'm merely suggesting a mutually beneficial resolution," he said smoothly.

Anger filled Hermione. "I will not be blackmailed!"

"It's up to you, of course," he shrugged, lazily walking towards the door. "I was thinking you could wear a maid's outfit for my birthday, by the way. However, if you should change your mind…" He dropped a money pouch on her end table, before leaving without another word. Ginny pulled herself up and waddled over to the table to examine the money.

"There's a card here as well," Ginny said, flipping it over. "Hermione, it's for Madame Duvalle's shop!"

"So?"

"So, you can't even get there without the card; it's unplottable," Ginny said. "I've always wanted to go there."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend, who was then quickly counting the galleons the pouch contained.

"There's enough money here to completely redo your wardrobe, too!" she gasped. "Let's go shopping!"

"Then he'll win, Ginny."

"So will you. Unless, of course, you wanted to wear that maid's outfit. I bet he even gets a feather-duster to go with it."

Her hesitation gone, Hermione grabbed the money bag. "Let's go," she said, walking quickly to the fireplace.