A Marriage of Inconvenience

Chapter 8

As always, Hermione turned to books for answers. Reading through the rest of the book on her lap didn't provide any clarification as to why Malfoy had done something so terrible, but it gave her something more important. An escape clause:

If one participant is bound without consent, or coerced into the binding, spilling the blood of the subjugator and speaking the incantation will sever the binding. The one with ill intent will suffer the consequences.

She bit her lip, considering what that might mean. What sort of consequences? How much of Malfoy's blood did she have to spill? And did she qualify for the conditions? She had agreed to the binding, giving her consent. However, she hadn't known it was an eternal binding, and she certainly hadn't realized Malfoy had manipulated her into the predicament.

The skin on her nape prickled, hairs rising, as the pressure inside the bedroom changed as it did just before Apparition. In an instant, Draco stood before her, looking elegant in his slim-fitting slacks and charcoal robes. He greeted her with his usual bright smile, which slowly melted off his face, like a painting exposed to water. "What's wrong, 'Mione?"

She allowed herself a harsh laugh. "Oh, where to begin, Malfoy?" His flinch at her deliberate use of his last name pleased her. "Whizbanger's head visited me this afternoon."

His expression shadowed before going blank. "Oh, regarding what?"

"Zabini tampered with the parchment to reveal us to be the heirs of Slytherin and Gryffindor."

"How extraordinary," said Draco mildly.

"Whizbanger is convinced he was Imperioused, but I think we both know that isn't true. Your best friend is Blaise Zabini, aside from Goyle. Was Sholto paid to do it, or did he just find the idea of screwing me over amusing enough to participate?"

"Neither." He looked tired suddenly. "I asked for his help, and when I explained why, he agreed out of kindness."

She snorted. "Kindness? When do you Slytherins ever practice kindness? Even Severus Snape, perhaps the finest Slytherin who ever lived, is not a man who practices kindness."

"Sholto is my friend and knew how important it was to me."

"Why?" She shook her head, hating the pain creeping into her tone. "Why would you want to use and hurt me like this, Malfoy?"

"Hermione, it wasn't like that."

She crossed her arms. "Then how was it? What possible reason could you have for keeping me from marrying Ron and tricking me into a blood magic ceremony that will bind our souls for eternity?"

"Because I bloody love you, Granger." He snapped the words before going paler than usual. Draco barely made it to the chair near hers before collapsing. "I love you, 'Mione."

She laughed. "I don't believe you." Shuttering her expression, she reluctantly admitted to herself that she kind of did believe him. The binding amplified feelings, and she had certainly felt loved in Draco's presence the past few weeks. But had it been his love she thought she was sensing, her own, or a combination? This whole thing was so perplexing, and she had no idea how to even begin sorting out the truth from the lies.

"I don't blame you." Slumping forward, he put his elbows on his knees to cradle his head in his hands for a long moment. Eventually, he looked up at her again. "I fell in love with you the day you slugged me in the face, Hermione."

Her mouth dropped open. "You're mad, Malfoy. That was third-year. We were thirteen. You couldn't possibly have..."

His smile was sad. "Oh, but I did. I couldn't show it, of course. I even asked my father once if any of his friends had ever dated Muggle-borns. He laughed and told me they weren't for dating or serious intent. 'Mudbloods are for fucking.'" He looked ashen. "I looked up to my father and wanted to please him, so I tried to embrace that idea. As the years passed, I cared less and less about blood purity. There was never a good time to let my change of heart be known, with other matters that arose."