A Marriage of Inconvenience

Chapter 4

Notes:

I like Ron, but he kind of had to be an idiot/jerk for this storyline to work. Sorry, Ickle Ronniekins lovers. LOL

"No. Absolutely no bloody way are you doing this, 'Mione."

Her lips tightened at the way Ron was speaking to her. "There's no choice, Ronald."

"There has to be a way. We'll find it."

She scowled. "Don't you think I've done that? I've spent the last few days researching everything I could think of. I've been to Hogwarts library, the Ministry's Dark Arts section, and even Knockturn Alley. There is nothing that can break this contract."

"I won't have you sleeping with Malfoy."

She frowned. "Do you think I want to?" A twinge of guilt unfurled inside her as she remembered the times when she had occasionally thought about Draco in a less-than appropriate way for one who hated her so vehemently. And that night after she had punched him in the face—well, she'd discovered the fine art of touching herself as she had imagined Draco falling to his knees, begging her forgiveness, and turning a new leaf.

The problem with that fantasy was he had never changed. Oh, he gave the appearance of being different now, but could anyone really change that much? She shook her head and forced herself to focus on Ron again.

"—lying, dirty troll-lover. You can't let him do this to you. To us."

She pushed a bunch of hair out of her face, carelessly noticing it was time for her to brew another anti-frizz potion. She'd been much too distracted over the past few days. Taking a deep breath, she tried to restrain her temper. "You must admit that Draco isn't to blame for this, Ron."

"Oh, it's Draco now, is it?" His redheaded complexion was bright red in his anger. "You're on first-name basis, huh? Planning to have tea with his mum? Snogging in the parlor? Looking forward to a good wedding night shag, are you?"

Her mouth dropped open. "Do stop being so immature, Ronald Weasley. If I don't marry Draco and consummate the union, we'll both die. So will Hogwarts, essentially."

"I won't have my fiancée with that git. His hands on you...him inside you..." Ron's skin took on a green cast. "I couldn't even bear to look at you afterward."

"And this is all about you, isn't it?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why did I never realize what an incredible prat you are?"

"You really mean to go through with it?" His mouth opened and closed like a fish.

She glared at him. "Would you rather I died?"

He floundered for a second before shooting back, "If the alternative is bedding Malfoy, yes!"

"Get out." Pushed to the limit, Hermione walked to her door to open it, returning to her Muggle roots for a spectacular expulsion from her home.

"No. We have to—"

He broke off with a cry of shock as she cried, "Wingardium leviosa," and flicked him out her door with a gesture of her wand. It sounded as though he landed with a heavy crash, judging from his cry of pain. Before she could change her mind, she modified her wards to refuse Ron access and cast Muffliato to silence his pounding on her door.

Feeling utterly alone, she curled up on the couch and buried her face in a pillow. Harry would likely come if she called for him, but Ginny had been so sick recently that she hated to disturb him until her friend was out of the first trimester. It also wasn't fair to put Harry in a position between herself and Ron. Plus, she couldn't be entirely sure he wouldn't share the same sentiment as Ron, though Harry seemed on slightly better terms with Draco. She didn't think he would expect her to die rather than sleep with Draco one time.

How she missed her mum and dad. Hermione knew she had done the right thing to protect them at the time, but she hadn't planned to give them up forever. It still puzzled her greatly to know why she couldn't restore their memories. She must be overlooking something.

Those melancholy thoughts, mingled with her sadness from the scene with Ron, added to the anxiety pressing on her as the date of their marriage ceremony approached left her crying until she was limp, damp, and exhausted. Hermione fell asleep on the couch sometime hours later and had nightmares of Bellatrix LeStrange. The crazy witch wasn't torturing her as she had done during the time of her incarceration in Malfoy Manor. Instead, she was fussing with Hermione's veil and crowing about how happy she was to be getting a niece.

She woke with a scream lodged in her throat, finding that nightmare much worse than the reality of being tortured by the horrible witch. It took her a moment to realize a tapping at the window had awakened her. A sleek black owl awaited entry. Hermione opened the window, and it glided inside, landing on her lap with its leg extended. It was a striking bird, with a proud air. She knew without looking at the parchment in her hand that the message had come from Draco. The bird was too pretentious to belong to anyone else.

"I have no treats that you would find acceptable," she said with a bit of attitude. "I'm all out of caviar and lobster."

The bird seemed to look down at his beak at her and sniff before rising and leaving the way he'd come. It was silly to dislike an owl, especially on first acquaintance, but she decided she hated Draco's owl.

The day was off to an inauspicious beginning as she read the parchment, discovering the wedding date was in four short days. Madam Milkin was expecting her tomorrow afternoon for a fitting. She didn't see the need until she read that Narcissa had arranged for a photographer to capture a few images. No doubt, the Malfoys would have to announce the marriage of Draco for publicity reasons. Yet another reason to dread the whole business.

Of course, her primary reason for dreading it all was the wedding night. Her stomach fluttered in a strange way as she tried to picture lying in a bed with Draco. It would be quick and perfunctory, she was sure. The few times she had been intimate with Ron and been fast and awkward. She expected nothing more from Draco, especially in the circumstances. Thinking in blunt terms, all they'd really need to do was perform penetration. Would he even have to orgasm? She didn't know about that and had no clue who to ask, or where to research. The answer wasn't like to be in "Hogwarts: A History," she thought with a small smile. Best to be on the safe side and let him...finish. It was better to do that than have to repeat the whole nightmare if Hogwarts decided they weren't married enough.

"Stupid, bloody castle," she muttered, crumpling the letter from Draco in her hand as she stared balefully at the fire.

Well, if he was going to need to complete himself, she needed to brew a foolproof contraception potion. They might be forced into this farce, but she was absolutely not about to sully the pureblood Malfoy line with her filthy mudblood.

Hermione blinked, abruptly realizing that no longer applied. By his crowd's standards, she might have even higher standing than they did, since she was a descendent of Godric's legitimate children, while they were Slytherin bastards. That still didn't make her inclined to bear a little Malfoy.

Her heart pinched at the thought. Would there be a man in the future who could overlook this unorthodox marriage with Draco to build a future with her? Would there still be children in her future? She'd already adjusted her mental image of her babies to change their red hair. She struggled to imagine them with a different shade and gasped when the imaginary children in her mind suddenly had riotous platinum curls and big brown eyes. They were adorable, but she quickly banished the image. There would never be Malfoy-Granger offspring. She denied the small twinge of regret that pierced her, reminding herself she was regretting the possible loss of any children of her own, not mourning the fact she would never have Draco's babies.

Chapter Management