Marriage of Inconvenience

Hermione paced up and down the narrow hallway of 12 Grimmauld Place. The walls felt like they were closing in on her. Which was oddly comforting as her thoughts spiraled. Why was she overreacting? Draco wasn’t her husband. She needed to focus on her mission. But why did he check on her yesterday? She overheard Ginny scolding him, and he had called her his wife. He'd never used that word before. It confused her. It made her feel things she wasn’t ready to acknowledge again. But the word wife still echoed in her mind. As much as she denied it, she loved hearing it. She wanted to be his wife, but she knew she wasn’t. Not really. Not to him.

It had been 24 hours since she left, and she finally, sort of developed a plan. Hermione would never truly be his wife. Draco was just a project for her. She needed to find out what he was hiding and confront him. That was her plan. Short and simple.

Once her mind settled and she gathered her courage, Hermione walked back into the living room. Ginny was lying on the black corner sofa, deeply engrossed in today’s Daily Prophet.

“I’m going back home,” Hermione mumbled hesitantly, speed walking towards the fireplace. Trying to avoid Ginny, who for the last day had pestered her. Telling her Draco isn't bad nor cheating and to sit down with him and converse. Blah blah blah. Ginny for someone who took down Marcus flint seemed to believe Draco was innocent. Hermione refused for Ginny's perception to cloud her judgement.

“Home?” Ginny raised her brows, smirking in a way that oddly resembled the smirk Malfoy used when he taunted her.

“You know what I mean,” Hermione snapped, walking faster to avoid Ginny’s scheming gaze.

“Just tell him you looove him already" ginny sang. "You and the ferret would make such a gorgeous couple.” She smiled in the most taunting manner. Her teeth gleaming ear to ear.

“Gin,” Hermione tried to sound stern, but she secretly enjoyed hearing Ginny paint this impossible yet beautiful dream. No! she mustn't get carried away in this dream.

“If I knew Malfoy would grow up to be so delicious-looking, I’d be all over that" Ginny got up on her elbows to look at hermione in the face, looking more serious now. "Hermione, you need to take the opportunity when it presents itself. Mission or no mission, men like that are hard to find. He clearly wants a piece of you; and just because you over heard him talking to a women, doesn't mean somethings going on. Draco proved himself after the war by helping the ministry you know that very well. The only reason he's on this hit list is because Shacklebolt needs to appease the public view and he...”

“Don’t,” Hermione said, cutting Ginny off and quickly shattering the dream she was painting. She already heard all this before. “I cant talk about this, not right now." Ginny was messing with her mind again. " I’ll be off then,” Hermione said. Her voice withdrawn. The determination washed off Ginny's face, after she realised Hermione was upset.

“Love you!” Ginny shouted as Hermione disappeared into the Floo.

When she arrived back at Draco’s, he wasn’t in the study. Thank God, she thought. She needed time to unwind and collect her thoughts. Moving quickly to avoid him, she entered her room, silencing the door as she shut it. But as she turned toward her bed, she froze.

Draco was sprawled across her burgundy satin sheets, hugging her pillow, his face buried in the pillow. The sheet barely covered his body, leaving his pale, bare back exposed. His skin shimmered in the morning light, a stark contrast against the dark sheets. She couldn’t help but stare. His normally tense body was relaxed, peaceful. So at odds with the composed manner he maintained. He looked like a marble sculpture, every muscle at ease in his sleep. Scars etched his skin like delicate lines in a painting.

She wondered how his skin would feel under her touch. Would his muscles tense if she ran her fingers across them? Would he even let her?

He stirred, and as she moved to leave the room, she knocked a pen off her desk. The pen flung across the room. The noise woke him immediately.

Draco shot up onto his knees, looking panicked, reaching for his wand in a state of half-sleep. He pointed the wand at her. Hermione stumbled back, hitting the door.

“Sorry, sorry!” She screeched hastily pressing herself against the wall behind her. Trying not to look too closely at his nude body.

“Bloody hell, Granger. I thought you were a stranger. I could’ve hexed you.” He collapsed back onto the bed. Dragging the covers over his waist.

Hermione straightened, avoiding his gaze, trying not to focus on the fact that he was almost naked in her bed. The covers were barely there now to cover him and she averted her eyes. “Why are you in my bed?” Her face flushed as she tried to compose herself.

Draco blinked, feigning shock and innocence. “I broke my bed and had nowhere else to sleep,” he drawled, looking far too smug for someone who was trespassing. His hand rested on his stomach and he subconsciously glided his hand across it. Drawing her eyes to the toned v shape with faint light hair trailing down to his... She quickly averted her eyes focusing above his head. The only place she felt composed while she looked.

“And you couldn’t fix it with a spell?”, Hermione crossed her hands, displeased. She was in no shape to talk to him. She needed time to herself.

“Not in the state I was in,” he replied sheepishly.

Hermione didn’t want to think about what state that might have been, or with whom he broke his bed. “Well, I need my room,” she said firmly, trying to shove aside her jealousy and the idea of him with someone else.

Noticing her grim expression, Draco stood up, wrapped in the bed sheet and strolled over to her. “Are you okay?” His smugness faded into concern.

“I’m fine. Please leave,” Hermione said, walking towards the bathroom, avoiding his gaze.

“Granger.” He raised a hand, as if to stop her, but he let it fall. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“No,” she said, her voice strained. “But please, I need some privacy.” She walked faster, feeling her resolve crumble. Why was this room so damn big?

“Have dinner with me later please. We should talk” Draco called as she shut the bathroom door, leaving her torn and confused.

She silenced the room, before breaking down. Sliding to the bathroom floor, she cried. Everything she was holding onto in the past few days came tumbling out.

..............

After much time had passed, Hermione forced herself out of her somber state. She cried, she shouted, then she gathered herself. She reminded herself that this marriage wasn’t real. Draco wasn’t hers. She had a job to do.

After a shower, to calm her nerves and wash away the tears. she dressed herself for the dinner Draco suggested earlier. It was the perfect time to analyse him and gather enough information out of him to end this sham marriage.

She wore a satin black wrap dress that accentuated her curves. The long sleeves covered the scar that ran across her arm, a mark she wasn’t comfortable showing to anyone who wasn’t close to her. The mark Dracos Aunt placed on her arm. A mark that for too long she felt ashamed of. Nonetheless, She felt beautiful, her hair was placed in a messy bun with a few curls escaping. She used to hate her curls as a child, unsure of how to manage them, but now she appreciated how they framed her face. Wild and unorganised a bit like her inner thoughts.

When she was fully dressed she headed for the dining room. She strode confidently down the long corridor, ready for battle or maybe espionage. She felt like a sexy spy sent to gather intel from an enemy. Dressing well always gave her a sense of power. She left feeling powerful.

As she approached the dining room, she heard voices. Silencing her steps. She listened closely.

“You’ve got to finish this, Draco. The way you’re going, it won’t end well for your wife,” said one unfamiliar voice.

“Oh, he clearly doesn’t want to make any sacrifices to complete his damn curse,” another man responded.

“I told him yesterday, he needs to finish this, like I did with Harry,” a sharp, shrill voice added. It was the woman from Draco’s study.

“You need to mind your own business. I don’t want Granger overhearing this,” Draco said in a tone that silenced them.

Hermione’s heart raced. What had they done to Harry? What did they want with her? This man she had thought of as kind and caring over the last few months was Draco Malfoy. It was like she forgot his past he was a prejudice pureblood. A death eater for God sake.

Hermione breathed in preparing for the worst, she tugged her wand into her sleeve, straightened her posture, and strolled into the room. She wasn’t the broken little girl from Malfoy Manor anymore. She was a strong woman, who knew how to fight her way out of anything.

But the reality she walked into wasn’t what she expected.

Sitting around the table were people she hadn’t seen in years. Blaise Zabini, Padma Patil, Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott. They smiled at her warmly, and Draco sat at the head of the table, his eyes burning into hers.

“Nice of you to join us, Granger,” Draco smirked, standing to pull out her chair. The gesture was oddly gentlemanly compared to the idea she had been building in her head. Of course hermione had seen this side of him in the last few months ever so different to the Draco from school, but Hermione still-hesitated before sitting, the conversation she overheard clearly meant he wasn't who she believed him to be now.

“I believe you already know everyone from school. I apologize for not informing you of their arrival earlier amidst the commotion,” he said, his tone overly sincere. He gently pushed her wooden chair closer to the table before returning to his seat.

“Who knew Granger would clean up so nicely,” Blaise said in a low baritone voice. He too had turned in a handsome man.

“Who knew you’d fill out that skinny frame,” Hermione shot back without missing a beat.

“Why, thank you, Granger,” he replied, his tone flirtatious.

“Don’t listen to his nonsense,” Padma retorted, glaring at Blaise. But he smiled at her, and she returned the smile. Hermione’s gut twisted at the affectionate way they looked at each other. She longed to have someone who could understand her with just looks.

“How are you handling life with this one?” Padma asked, glancing toward Draco.

“It’s going well so far. He’s not all that bad,” Hermione said honestly. She wished she could say otherwise, but he had been decent—up until two days ago. She wondered if Padma had anything to do with whatever was going on with these mysterious Slytherins.

“He can be difficult, but deep down he’s very decent,” Padma said, looking fondly at Draco, almost like a proud mother.

Draco glared. “I am not difficult.”

Pansy laughed, choking on her wine in a very unladylike manner. “Oh dont kid yourself, Draco” she added, joining in.

Soon, it seemed like Draco had become the evening’s target, as each of his friends took turns teasing him. He was a very easy target Hermione noticed, easy to rile up.

On the other hand everyone was being surprisingly kind to her, too kind. Blaise flirted shamelessly with everyone. Padma teased Draco like a sister. Theodore was the most mature, slightly quieter than the rest. Pansy was just as sarcastic as she was in school, also surprisingly affectionate around her friends. Hermione was left speechless at how welcoming they were.

Hermione cleared her mind, maybe they wanted to ease her in, then stab her in the back like they had with poor Harry. Harry. Hermione recalled the earlier conversation she’d overheard, and her heart sank. She needed to find out if Harry was safe. It was time to act. She prepared to end this dinner and send word to Harry. But then, she second-guessed herself. Could Padma be involved? After all, she was a pureblood, but she was also with the Order. Was Hermione overthinking it? Her mind spiraled.

“Granger,” Draco’s voice cut through her thoughts, pulling her back to reality. His brow was furrowed with concern, his fist gripping his fork tightly.

“Let’s say our goodbyes,” he said, standing up. It was only then that Hermione noticed, lost in her thoughts, that all of Draco’s friends were already standing to leave.

Hermione followed, but the moment the last guest left, Draco turned to her.

“We need to talk.”