Disclosure Hp belongs to JKR. The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux
A/n This was fabricated Marriage Law by the Malfoy to get Hermione. Wrote it long ago. It is mostly humor. And some real matching by Muggle computers.

The RELUCTANT BRIDE

Five days later, the big day was nearly there. This night was the evening of the wedding day, not soon enough for Draco, but the idea of a next-day wedding was just not doable. Five days was the minimum to orchestrate such an event, Narcissa kept telling him.

Draco had bellyached the entire time, "Mother, what if my little bird, my sweet Pewee, should escape? It will be your fault."

"Dracky, the next day was too difficult. As it is, we almost did not make it." Never mind having to coordinate with Hermione's mother, who had refused the offers to stay at the Manor. This was a good thing because Narcissa did not like Dr. Granger's fiancée, the nasty werewolf who was her niece's widower, and she did not want him to come near her; she had her reasons.

"Draky, darling, you cannot imagine the work. We had to give those coming from far a few days notice." That is not true; they already knew. Narcissa would. "What is that ridiculous name you call your bride?" He figured it out and did not like it. It was another reminder of one of his schemes gone bad. Whereas he knew how to make gold multiply, all his other clever ideas ended in disaster. However, the pewees were unforgettable. Both Lucius and Draco remembered it.

That summer long ago, a swarm of pesky flies had invaded the barns and gardens everywhere. The swarm resulted from a poorly executed dark charm cast by Draco when he was seven. He had read the charm in a book and thought they referred to fireflies. What child or adult does not like fireflies? A friend who liked natural pest control solutions had sold Lucius magically enhanced pewees, a small fly-catching bird from across the pond, to get rid of the pests.

Lucius decided that if a little enhancement was good, more was better, so he fed them a potion in the bird bath. He had wanted the flies gone for the Summer Solstice ball and made super flycatchers. Soon, the flies were gone, but the pewees' breeding cycle messed up, and they nested several times; before long, they had clouds of the little grey birds everywhere.

Lucius wanted to kill them, but Draco heard, loved the small birds, and begged for their safety. For unknown reasons, the grey flock followed Draco everywhere even inside the Manor, and bird droppings were all over the place. The birds ruined the Ball, they were all over the guests, the food, what a disaster. By fall time most were gone, and Draco cried for days. He still believed his father was behind the massive exodus. One day he would find out, and Lucius would pay, he was a Malfoy and kept tabs, it ran in their blood.

Draco did not answer, but at his father's, "Drop the silly name, your bride is too pretty to be called after such drab pest, why?"

"Because she is a tiny witch, but the real reason is that I used to call her a pewee, a derogatory name calling, she was and is petite; and since she is tiny as the pewees, the name stuck, besides is none of your business. The pewees were not and are not a pest." He gave Lucius a suspicious look, and Lucius looked the other way.

"Whatever, but the witch is out for blood, better watch out for her. Do not say that I did not warn you. She reminds me of my grandfather, the same look. He was a blood thirsty wizard, nasty wicked words were always spewing out of his lips, and he bled his enemies dry, literally." Lucius eyes looked far away. "Ah, yes, you are lucky, very, she will make a fine Malfoy witch," he raised his eyebrows a couple of times, "I've noticed the lust is upon you, well deserved, she is a veritable beauty."

Lucius walked away, feeling sad over what he lost. He did not understand why, he had asked his father to charm him so it would no longer hurt, to make him forget. So, why was he remembering. He had not told his son that Hermione reminded him of somebody. An old suspicion was coming back, about the Black sisters, but what.

Meanwhile in France, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange were packing to attend the wedding. They were coming with their soon to be bride, their originally chosen one, Andromeda Tonks, nee Black. They both hated Narcissa, and did not like to be around her. They would go for Lucius, though Rabastan wished he could tell Lucius what he knew, but why make him suffer. He hoped one day he could.

Later that day Draco stood by her room and told the guard to take a short break.

"My bride to-be-tomorrow, are you here?" Draco had volunteered to get her since even the house elves feared her.

He knocked again but nobody answered. After a slight hesitation, he came in followed by one of the Kneazles. The felines liked to follow Draco, they knew the chances that one or two pewees might be near him, and, one day, they might get lucky.

When the weather was warmer, the small birds would find their way into the Manor, still attracted to Draco's magic, nothing could be done; even the Dark Lord had tried and failed, not even Nagini ever caught one. Moreover, Draco still protected the little birds, and they were untouchable. The Kneazles would get zapped when trying to have a fresh fowl snack, not that it stopped them from trying. Lucius suspected that his magic reinforcement had made the flying vermin invincible and indestructible.

"My sweet bride, my MiMi, I am in the room," he stopped and listened, hmm, the shower was running. A wicked smile gleamed on Draco's face, why not? It will not hurt. I can always feign surprise. Are not we nearly married; I can inspect the goods before the final purchase. She might even like it. Now, now, no lies, my Pewee might get nasty, hmm, who cares.

"Hey, I am coming in just in case you might be in, I have a gift." Draco pushed the door to the dressing room, and he froze in place. Have I died and this is an angel? Well, my idea of one.

If he was already hard, now he was beyond aroused. His cock throbbed, and all he could hear was his blood rushing.

She did not scream, let him look, what is the sense, by tomorrow he will do more than looking. I know the drill; we will be forced to drink a lust potion. Gag, I will need a triple shot and an eye mask. Stupid law, disobedience carries a high price, Azkaban and losing your wand, just do it.

She stood there, her foot up on a low footrest, she was facing the door, giving him a full frontal view between her thighs. Damn, her freshly washed totally naked body is still dripping, lucky water.

He swallowed to wet his dry mouth, his eyes traveling the promised land, his mind stuttering, if that were possible. His innate ability to catalog all he saw was in full force. How, how, Merlin, the creamy treats topped with those delicious pale cherries, oh gods. Lick them, yes taste them, run your lips and your tongue. Botticelli's Venus is nothing, give me my witch, that sweet firm bod, holly cow; my tongue lapping the water droplet. Fuck I am thirsty. Go, walk, do it, lick her, all the way down to that yummy treat. She trims it, only an arrow, damn the naughty Pewee, my witchy, mine. Move.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, her lips pursed and twisted to the side. She was used to the boys 'walking in' when she showered during their stint in the Forest. They were pervies at the time and wanted a free peep show. No skin of her back, she had no hang ups with her body. She had gone with her parents to Muggle resorts all her life where nude sunbathing was not unusual. The body was the body, but in the Wizarding world with their Victorian attitudes, well come to think, Wilbur was not any different; he had screamed like a girl when he had seen her sunbathing during a vacation and had thrown a towel to cover her, the prude.

She stopped drying, "Are you going to move? You look like a frozen penguin. What are you looking at, and are you doing in my room? Are you coming to get me out my cell?"

He still stood in place, one foot stretched in front of him, he was catatonic. His eyes fixed on what?

She followed the path of his pupils and saw his eyes' target, "You, you, pervert, the nerve, did not 'the prettiest of them all,' tell you that it was rude to stare." She dropped the towel; harrumphed; lowered her foot; wrapped a towel around her hair; her head was dripping after all; and came towards him, less than happy.

Draco was still frozen, well, not completely, his eyes weren't, neither was he below his waist. His arms unlocked the moment she reached him with her arm stretched out, ready to push him

His arms locked around his prey; the witch gave a surprised strangled sound. She had not seen it coming. The surprise attack, as she saw it, had disabled her temporarily. His hands got busy at work sliding down to her bum. Once he reached his target, he both caressed the soft, luscious cheeks, and brought her closer.

His vocal chords remained locked, and only tiny moans could be heard at the instant that his aroused cock felt the pressure of her body. His lips moved across her face rapidly, he was already in a frenzy. She was no match for his masterful bedroom skills.

Hermione was amazed at how she liked the ferret's hands on her bum, and his hard weapon against her belly (Ron called his bit, 'my best weapon,' if only). His tall, solid body was fine as well. Her hormonal reaction, she thought, had been purely instinctual, and temporarily distracted her.

Draco's mind no longer functioned overtaken by lust. His hips pressing against her felt so good. Her fragrance surrounded him inside the steamy bathroom, further inflaming him. He pushed her towards the sink counter, to have better access. He had her near the sink counter when his lips were next to her mouth.

This was also the moment she opened her eyes, her inner Hermione had tapped her shoulder, 'Girl, wake up, those arms belong to your scaly enemy, and that large hardness is his, yuck!'

Indeed, her open eyes revealed Draco's closed eyes and felt his lips close to hers. She pushed him with all her might; he stumbled backwards and saw her eyes blazing with disgust. With a shrilly voice she screamed,"OUT. OUT. DIRTY SNAKE, QUIT MOLESTING ME, " along with a stream of nastiness and false accusations, not mad at him, mostly mad with herself because she had felt equally aroused.

Draco straightened and responded, "Listen you nasty witch, say it, you liked it." The one-track Draco was back, and all he could think was about her body still present on his hands. Yes, she did, she wanted it. "I can smell you, and your aroused body. So pretty, so naked and so angry. My lioness, growling, and chasing me."

He smiled one of his predatory smiles, "Aha, methinks you are so angry but it's not at me, oh no, you are mad at yourself you because you liked it so much, ha, ha." Draco taunted the angry lioness, why not. He waited.

He froze again with the view in front of him when she turned around and bent to pick up her towel. Not possible, perfection, true beauty, my witch is a perfect treat front and back... our wedding night is not soon enough.

He knew better and turned to leave, but at the door, he turned around, and was greeted by a evil glare that would scare a lesser wizard.

"Cool it, I am going...ah, here, for tomorrow," he moved to a counter and dropped a gorgeous pearl necklace with a pendant of a grey bird holding an emerald.

"I had it made for you, my sweet Pewee, my witch…the mother of my children…ah, children, the making…" his smile scared her.

He heard her growl when he left, listening her nasty response. She was hot, but her mouth…yes, her mouth, those lips around my cock, that pink tongue licking it. Yup Draco you are in trouble, face it, you will put up with her nastiness to get to the yummies you saw earlier. Draco reasoned.

He had not noticed that his light color trousers and cashmere silk jumper, were soaked. Lucius who was coming towards him guffawed, "Were you trying to catch a slippery witch," he taunted Draco. He was proud if his son. He was lucky marrying his true lust, love would come soon enough, maybe, it came for those who married their true lust, whatever, the past was gone.

"If I did, so what? But really, she will never accept me. Why did Mother had to have such a big wedding, why? My witch is about to bail. How much longer before she escapes?" Draco complained.

The Unhappy Bride. Wedding Day-

Malfoy Manor was bursting at the seams. The society doors had indeed opened for the Malfoy, what a coup, a non-violent one, almost. The guest list of thousands was nearly fully attended. Of course] the invitations and preparations, were underway days before the owls had delivered the marriage mandates.

Everyone was talking, a Malfoy no less, dark as a midnight shade, marrying the Princess of Light, the golden witch, a Muggle at that. It was true, everyone agreed the Malfoy had done it, their sins would be all forgotten when the vows were said. The white wedding theme said it all, the Manor was dressed all in white; the formula was simple, a bride in thru the Manors door, and every wall that was stained with sins was washed white. And the Malfoy would again be at the center of it all.

Great move, and the study had been a great success judging from all the happy newlyweds, most have been real well analyzed matches; some more than others, at least four were made to specifications; namely: Hermione and Draco, Harry and Daphne, Theo and Luna, and Ron and Lydia; it paid to be in charge of the results. What they hadn't really checked, was that Hermione was really Draco's best match, as for Hermione, well, she had many maybes, but nothing concrete. Then best match was a squib by many points was a Muggle noble, and that wouldn't do.

Here doesn't come the Bride

Hermione looked like a princess, an angry one, Hermione was still partially bound. She was kept in partial restrains whenever she was taken out her non-magic proof room. Paid guards were kept all around to prevent an untoward escape.

Draco was sick of her attitude, and all he wanted was to be married to able to shag her. His mind was stuck and all he could think was about her, but her sharp tongue was taking a toll.

It would seem she remembered each of his transgressions against her since day one. The damn witch kept tabs, who would have known. The list was long, a litany, a play by play of each, down to location, time, to include what he wore at the time. His friends were all laughing, all knew that she didn't want to marry him. Their prince truly hooked by a siren who despised him, it was way too sweet to let it pass, and all were advising him to wear protective gear tonight.

"Draco, she is hotness personified, but, bloody hell, she is an evil witch. If I were you, I would protect my bits with a charm you are sure to find in your father's library. Maybe the same that made the nasty little birds indestructible." His friends advised.

He had given her a few kisses near the mouth and nearly got her, but as soon as she opened an eye, his life was in peril. Last evening when he saw her wet from shower, he was catatonic for hours. When he walked away from Lucius Draco's eyes were flooded with reels of her from the second, he saw her wet body. People just buzzed around him. He kept thinking that his angry sweet bird, her Pewee was a dream come true.