A Marriage of Inconvenience

Chapter 2

Hermione must have passed out, which she would have found embarrassing under normal conditions. Right now, she was still too stunned and sickened to worry about her appalling lack of courage or show of weakness. These weren't normal conditions by any stretch of the imagination.

Someone pressed a hot potion into her hand. Her nose tingled, and she recognized it as PepperUp when she sneezed. With a grimace, she drank deeply, certain she tasted a hint of Firewhiskey as well. Bless whoever had the forethought to lace the PepperUp. She required all the fortitude she could acquire, be it from internal or external sources.

She was tense with anticipation, knowing Malfoy would show up at any moment. Zabini had entered the fireplace to fetch him personally, Whizbanger having deemed the matter too sensitive to trust to an owl.

Ron was still pacing and shouting, demanding answers, while Arthur tried to calm his youngest son. And she sat as still as a statue, unable to find her voice to join Ron in clamoring for answers. Why bother? Whizbanger would just have to repeat it all again for Malfoy. She had a feeling she wouldn't want to hear it once, let alone many times.

All too soon, the fire flared green, and Zabini stepped out, Draco Malfoy behind him. To her dismay, Narcissa followed her son. At least she wouldn't have to contend with Lucius Malfoy, who would be in Azkaban for a long time yet.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" demanded Draco, sounding like the egotistical git he was. "You interrupt our lunch with the insistence that we come right away. Who are you to summon us?" He frowned when his gaze rested on Ron, who was still flushed and seemed to be barely holding in-check the compulsion to continue ranting.

She shivered when his pale gray eyes moved to her, almost desperately wishing she could faint again. That was cowardly, but she wanted this to be over, and only her stubborn Gryffindor pride kept her from running from the office, hands in ears.

Malfoy seemed to dial back his arrogance a tad. "What is going on, Granger?"

Should she be surprised that he would ask her, with her know-it-all swotty reputation? She just shrugged, still clasping the empty goblet like a lifeline.

"Thank you for joining us, Mr. Malfoy. I had heard you and Ms. Greengrass were planning a visit here shortly." Whizbanger broke off, apparently realizing he had chosen the wrong way to begin the conversation.

Malfoy glared. "In our time. Explain why you've summoned me."

For once, she was glad to have Malfoy's demanding attitude, knowing it would prove useful at the moment.

"Erm, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger came for their license, you see."

"Congratulations, Weasel," he said, just a hint of his old malice showing through. Clearly, being called to the office had left him less civil than he had been on previous occasions when they had interacted after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Ron gave him a rude gesture that was equally shocking in the Muggle and wizarding world. Hermione and Narcissa both gasped. To her surprise, Malfoy just grinned.

"There was a problem. Most unusual, you see..." Whizbanger seemed completely disorganized. "The parchment, you see..."

"I see nothing, because you haven't gotten to the blasted point," barked Malfoy, obviously reaching the end of his patience.

"It wouldn't let me marry Ron," said Hermione.

"That's, um, tragic, Granger, but what has it to do with me?"

A hysterical laugh burst from her mouth, punctuating her words as she said, "Whizbanger claims you and I are betrothed."

Malfoy flinched, looking as nonplussed as she felt. "That's preposterous."