A Marriage of Inconvenience

Chapter 3

Hermione waited on tenterhooks for the next three days as the Malfoys' lawyers perused the contract, looking for an escape clause. She was so on-edge that she screamed and spilled her tea when his face appeared in her fireplace that evening. A wave of her wand cleaned up the mess, and a quick charm dealt with the burns from the scalding tea.

"Sorry, Granger. Didn't mean to startle you."

She nodded. "It's all right. I'm rather glad to see you actually."

He frowned. "That might not be true for long. Do you mind if I come to your home through the Floo network? Or would you prefer to come to the Manor?"

She couldn't hide a shudder, recalling her last visit there. "Come to me please. Allow me a few minutes to drop my wards."

He nodded, and then his face disappeared from the flames. Hermione modified her wards to temporarily accept Draco's presence just seconds before her fire turned green, and he stepped out of it. He was smartly dressed in black slacks and a matching turtleneck sweater, with a black robe over his shoulders. She blinked at the surprising revelation that she was checking out Draco. Wouldn't be the first time, whispered a voice in her head that she firmly quashed.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" She gestured toward the pot on the coffee table. "It wouldn't be a bother to fetch another cup."

Malfoy looked haggard. "I'd rather have a shot or twelve of firewhiskey. Suppose you're too goody-goody for that?" He arched a pale brow.

Pursing her lips, she walked over to the large globe in the corner, spinning it precisely one hundred and twelve degrees, so that the top opened. "Iced or straight, Malfoy?"

"Straight. Might want one yourself, Granger."

Her stomach churned with nerves as she poured them both a generous serving of the firewhiskey. He took his tumbler with a nod and sat down on her wingback chair. More like collapsed against it. "It's bad news, isn't it?"

He scowled. "The worst kind. Our solicitors can do nothing. There is no loophole. We're bound by the contract."

A heavy weight seemed to settle on her shoulders. "Oh, dear." Sighing, she said, "We aren't allowed to marry other people, but that's fine." A spark of relief was spreading through her, and she almost smiled slightly. She hadn't realized how ambivalent she was toward the whole concept of marriage before this nightmare. "I'll just explain to Ron that I can't marry him, but we'll still be together. Will Astoria accept that?"

He shrugged. "I doubt it. She wants to be the next Lady Malfoy. Propriety, and all that."

She nodded. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. This is dreadful."

He exhaled. "Not your fault a couple of moldering corpses set us up for this a millennium ago."

"Still, perhaps Astoria will come around when she realizes there's no choice. You'd be together in everything except married name. You might even be able to bind your magic to marry that way."

Malfoy scrubbed a hand down his face. "You haven't heard the worst, Granger...Hermione. Not only can't we marry anyone else, we actually have to marry each other."

She shook her head. "That's just silly. They can't make us marry each other. We can just remain unmarried."

"It's not that simple. The sly old bastards wanted to ensure we didn't have that option, so they put in a time limit. As soon as the youngest of us was born, it started a countdown, of sorts."

"Countdown?" she asked numbly. "What sort of—"

"If we don't marry, we'll both perish."

She blinked. "You mean we have to get married to stay alive?"