Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Hello! I know my last story is not finished yet but I'm waiting until I get at least 5 reviews to post the next chapter, and because I can't just sit down without writing, here is another story for you that I've written. Enjoy! :)

It was the second week of NEWTs and she had crammed for this subject she despised the most. Divination. She didn't despise it because she failed terribly at it. No, no, she never failed. She couldn't stand failing. It was because the Professor, Sybill Trelawney, told her she had not the inner eye on her third year, which pissed her off badly, and her predictions were inaccurate. She could've sworn the woman was mad.

But as much as she despised the subject, she couldn't just quit. What would the school think? Hermione Granger, quit a class because she thought the Professor was mad? Not many students liked the teacher, either, because they thought the same, but she couldn't just quit any subjects. Not even her most despised subject.

Hermione was three minutes late into the exam, thank you to her hard-working self; she slept a little bit late the other night. She was never late in her entire life before, which was why she received many looks from students in the classroom, especially her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. But she managed to leave the classroom confidently.

The girl stood outside the door of the classroom, waiting for Harry and Ron, which she knew they didn't study at all. What pissed her off, though, they never studied for this subject but they always managed to scrape a decent grade. 'Cheating?' she thought.

"I hate Divination," Ron grumbled as he and Harry walked out of the classroom.

"Why does Divination even exist?" Harry sighed.

Hermione approached them. "How was it?"

"Bad" - "Horrible", they responded at the same time as the trio kept walking.

"Well, it couldn't be that bad," she said. What was she saying? It was bad. Divination was always bad.

Harry rolled his eyes. "How was it for you, then? If I remember correctly, you've always despise Divination," he retorted.

"Yes, but apart from sleeping in and being late, it was fine. I'm just glad NEWTs are finally over."

"Me, too. No more pressures and hard work!" Ron exclaimed happily.

"We still have the last exams in a few months, though," Hermione reminded, which made Ron huffed.

"Hey, you guys!" Ginny Weasley called cheerily as she suddenly appeared in front of the trio, making them stopped. "Congratulations on the last day of NEWTs! The end has finally come," she said dramatically.

"Oh, piss of, Gin." Ron pushed her out of the way and kept walking.

"Well, that's not how you treat your little sister," Ginny said as she stopped him.

"If the little sister is being annoying, that is how the big brother treats her."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. The dark-haired boy sighed and the brunette girl just gave him a small smile. Of course, their friendships wouldn't be complete without Ron and Ginny's bickers, or sometimes it was Ron and Hermione. It would be just empty without them. And of course, when this happened, Hermione would be the one who had to stop them, or if it was the reversed version, Ginny had to stop them.

Hermione approached them and put a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Oh, cut it off, both of you."

"He started it." Ginny mumbled childishly.

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Now, did you want to tell us something?" She felt like her mother or something from the tone when she asked the younger girl. She shuddered. She didn't want to be a mother yet.

Ginny's face lightened up immediately. "Well, there's this secret party in the Room of Requirement on Friday. It's sort of a goodbye pressure party because NEWTs are over, and it's for seventh years only."

"Wait, if it's for seventh years only, then how do you know about this?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes. "You're in sixth year."

"I know everything, brother."

Ron scrunched up his nose at his little sister.

"Well, that's nice. A party should celebrate our end," Harry said.

Hermione hated parties. She had always hated parties. Dresses, high-heels, make ups... those were just not her.

"Yeah, and don't tell me you're not coming, Hermione."

"Well..."

"No, there is no well," Ginny started. "You will go, and I will make you. It's the end, Hermione, you need to let lose of yourself. You can't just sit in the common room and read books all night!"

"Actually, we still have our last exams before graduation, and yes, I can just sit in the common room and read books all night, because if you haven't noticed, that's what I've done since first year."

Ron snickered and Ginny pulled her arms, swinging in. Hermione rolled her eyes. The younger girl was not the one to miss a party, ever. But really, she would rather sit in the common room with her precious books and a cup of hot chocolate than go to a party. It was a waste of time.

The brunette sighed and decided to just go along. "Alright, fine, I'll go. As long as you help me with the stuff we need. I'm really not good at those."

"Now, that's it!" the red-headed girl grinned. "I must go to Potions now, so I'll see you guys later!" And with that, she skipped through the hallway.

"I really hate parties." Harry just smiled at her as they continued to walk.

Draco Malfoy walked up the stairs of Malfoy Manor and past three large windows, to the floor where his father's office was. His father, Lucius Malfoy, had sent him a letter and told his son to meet him. With Dumbledore's permission, he was excused for a couple of hours since NEWTs were finished, anyway.

He reached the vast wooden doors and mumbling came from inside. He knocked and opened the door. He didn't even wait for a reply as he walked in. Draco looked inside to see his father handing some documents to his secretary. Yes, his father decided to hire a secretary. He was tired of house-elves because he thought they weren't smart enough.

Lucius gave his secretary a nod and she brushed passed me by the door. He looked at me and snapped, "Shut the door and sit."

Draco sat on the chair in front of his father's desk, whose cold grey eyes looked up to meet his own.

"I made a deal with the Greengrass Company, and that deal would make us millions and more. This project is huge and I just managed to persuade them to work with us."

"Great, so you don't need me, after all," Draco smirked, but quickly wiped it off of his face as Lucius' grey eyes bore onto his coldly.

"Phineas Greengrass has a daughter of your age."

"Yes, I know. Daphne Greengrass. She was one of Pansy's gang, and I don't really pay attention to her that much."

"You are to be betrothed to her," he said simply.

Betrothed. That word came out from Lucius' mouth smoothly, as if it was nothing. Draco never cared about who he was going to marry, but being betrothed was definitely not on his mind. His parents were betrothed, but that was different. It was 1997, and that tradition was supposed to be long gone. 'Not when you're a Pureblood...' he thought in his head.

"I refuse." Draco finally voiced out.

"You refuse?" his father repeated, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm only seventeen, father. I'm not ready to be married. Just because you want this deal real bad, doesn't mean I have to marry their daughter."

"I was married when I was seventeen," Lucius told his son. "And this marriage does not have anything to do with the deal. We're Purebloods, and we're following the tradition of our ancestors. Purebloods must marry Purebloods. You are of age, Draco, and Phineas and I thought it would be just right for you to marry his of age daughter. You're on the same year. You should be close with Daphne."

"You can't decide everything for me, father," Draco snapped. "I'm not ready! What happens if Daphne apparently pregnant with my child? I can't take care of a fucking baby! I can't take care of a wife!"

"Then, how will you manage to find a good wife? Malfoys do not love, Draco. You are of age! Your mother and I had you when I was eighteen!"

"That's not me, that's you!" Draco retorted.

"Enough!" Lucius exclaimed, banging his palm on the desk. "You will marry Daphne, whether you like it or not."

Draco stayed silent. They exchanged looks, trying to read each other's expressions. He just couldn't marry at this age. He was merely a teenager, for Salazar's sake! He should be enjoying his life with his friends, not with a wife.

"Give me at least two months."

"What for?"

"If I have to get married, the least I can do is to find a wife by myself."

"One week."

"Four."

"Three."

"Alright, three it is."

Three weeks. Three weeks to find someone to settled down with the rest of his life. Draco shuddered at the thought. He dated girls and had one-night stands, but spend his whole life with one? 'Bloody hell,' he cursed in his head.

"Three weeks to find a wife that will respect you and can bring the Malfoys a descendant or you will have to marry Daphne."

Stupid tradition.

I've also uploaded this on wattpad, if you prefer reading it there. My user is lionquinns. :)