AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This is a story I've been writing off and on for a while now (in between bouts of writer's block on my other stories and RL issues). It's finally completed.

If you've never read "A Court of Thorns and Roses" series by Sarah J. Maas, I would HIGHLY recommend it (particularly the second book in the series). It's absolutely wonderful world-building with dynamic characters that leap off the page.

Saying that, this fic is NOT a re-write of the original ACOTAR novels using HP characters. It is borrowing elements from ACOTAR and mashing it up with HP canon (in other words, it's a remix fic). This is a "Harry Potter" story primarily. Basically, what you'll need to know of the ACOTAR series to follow along with this fic will be covered in beginning and end notes of every chapter for you, as I'm aware most of the readers of this tale will be HP fans first.

BIG thank you to 'ladysashi', who brainstormed this idea with me from start to finish (she's the one who pushed me into the ACOTAR fandom, honestly). Love you more than plum pudding and Christmas combined, dahling! :)

DISCLAIMER:"Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This fanfiction was written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

TIMELINE: Post-Hogwarts, A/U (2008 - After being defeated in the Chamber of Secrets, Voldemort was finished - no resurrection, no war, no deaths aside from Professor Quirrell and Tom Riddle's diary shade)

MAIN COUPLE: Hermione Granger x Draco Malfoy

SECONDARY CHARACTERS FEATURED (alphabetical order, last name): Hannah Abbott, Katie Bell, Sirius Black, Millicent Bulstrode, Cho Chang, Dennis Creevey, Cedric Diggory, Seamus Finnigan, Marcus Flint, Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Narcissa Malfoy, Cormac McLaggen, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Charlie Weasley, George Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Blaise Zabini

SUMMARY: When the mysterious Court of Thorns and Roses, a pure-blood political alliance of families that hails back to Salazar Slytherin's days, resurrects a dead custom - the Calenmai Fesitval - all unmarried pure-bloods are required to register, attend, and compete for the coveted title of May King and May Queen of the festival. At the end of the contest, all participants are to be matched by the ancient magic of the Beltane Bonfire and married off, thus carrying on the 'sacred duty of furthering pure-blood dynasties in wizarding Britain'.

When Draco is volunteered by his mother to represent their family at the games under the banner of the Night Court, he asks his best friend, Hermione, to stand at his side and help him pick a worthy bride from the available witches.

...But can Hermione really do as is being asked of her, and give up the man she secretly loves to some other woman, all in the name of friendship?

RATING: NC-17 (MA)

WARNINGS: Blood prejudice; Misogyny; Explicit profanity; Explicit heterosexual sex, consensual; Implied heterosexual and homosexual sex, consensual; Implied childhood abuse by parent; Verbal abuse from an ex; References to ancient magical mating rituals and forced pregnancy (lust spells); Drama-angst-angst-angst (happy ending, though)

A COURT OF STARS AND DREAMS

By: RZZMG

~.~.~.~.~

I stared at Draco across the organized chaos of my desk and fought to keep my expression blank.

"You're serious?" I asked him, unsure if that was indignation or dazed incredulity that made my voice sound so breathy. When dealing with Malfoy, it was always one or the other. "Did Fred and George put you up to this?"

Over the rims of a set of dark Muggle sunglasses, bloodshot grey eyes stared back at me, unflinching and as sincere as I'd ever seen them in all the years of our friendship. "I wouldn't joke about this," my best friend assured me, shoving the glasses back over his eyes to block out the light.

My chest went tight and achy, caving in just a little bit.

My temper, however, flared to righteous proportions.

"So, let me see if I understand you correctly," I said, putting my paint brush down in the cup of water nearby to assure it didn't dry out and ruin the bristles. "You want me to go to some 'pure-bloods only' event—this Calanmai Festival, that hails back a thousand years, give or take—all so I can be moral support for you while you engage in a ridiculous Dark Ages secret tradition that allows you to utilize a type of mystical, Hoodoo-ish Divination magic to determine your perfect mate from among the participants, all for the purposes of marrying her and carrying on your disgusting family's tradition of discrimination based upon some misguided and unscientific notion of magical superiority through family lineages."

I raised an eyebrow at how ridiculous the whole thing sounded.

That didn't stop me from worrying, however, especially when Draco didn't interrupt to make any corrections, which meant that I was either dead-on with my assessment of the situation or…well, he was still too blotto from last night's Firewhisky shots challenge to care.

"Well?"

A small snore escaped him.

Cleaning the paint from my fingers with a rag kept me from strangling him, but I did round the desk and kick him in the shins to wake him up. He jolted and came fully conscious with a start, but then a pained sound escaped his lips a moment later and he slumped back behind his hand.

I tried putting the debate into simpler terms, as it was clear by the way he was drooping in his chair that intellectual conversation was beyond his ability at the moment. "In other words, you want me to watch you carelessly walk into a marriage that is, in effect, chosen for you by the same type of magic used by the Tri-Wizard Tournament cup to pick its champions, only in this case, it'll be some pure-blood princess who only wants you for your money, political connections, and fame. That about sum it up?"

He moaned long and loud, looking a bit green around the gills.

"Granger, for all that's holy!" He paused, made an 'urpy' noise, and then tried again. "Listen, pet, I'll love you all the rest of our lives together if you'd just once share with me one of those Sobriety Potions you keep secretly tucked away in that desk of yours, the ones you think I don't know about." He waved a tired hand towards the left side of my desk. "Bottom drawer, in the back, behind your emergency stash of fluffy vagina blankets."

My back teeth met and ground together with such force I thought it possible I'd have to go see my parents at their work after this meeting to be fitted for a set of caps.

"They're called feminine pads, you pig, and FYI: I don't recall ever giving you permission to root around in my office desk."

He winced. "I'm sure you must have."

I grumbled something about slimy thief Slytherins keeping their sticky paws to themselves under my breath and then crossed the room to my desk and reached into the drawer where he'd indicated, pulling out a small, green vial from the exact spot he'd described.

I took my time sauntering back to him, cashing in on twelve years' worth of good karma to privately enjoy his suffering.

"You owe me," I made sure to rub it in.

"A million times over by now. I'm well aware," he replied, grabbing the potion from my hand, uncorking it and downing it in one toss. Moments later, he sighed in relief. "Ah, you truly are a goddess among women, love." He bowed his head to me in mock veneration and at the same time, slipped the empty potions vial into his pocket using sleight of hand. I caught the move easily after all these years, though. Bloody klepto. "A true Circe in the making," he droned on, "with your effortless ability to put the 'mask' on 'masculinity' and tame silver-tongued Basilisks. It is a fact that I worship the very intractable ground you smash daily under your righteous heels."

Right. If only he really felt that way about me.

What I wouldn't give to have him do a little 'worshiping' of me once more, his head between my thighs...

"Nice dodge and weave there," I complimented him, trying not to be too let down by the reality that I'd never get this man on his knees for me again. Not literally, or figuratively speaking. "However, I'd be remiss if I didn't point out how you failed to actually answer the question. Shall I remind you of the primary topic at hand by asking it again, or would it be better for your alcohol-sodden grey-matter if I wrote it down instead? I can use small words, if it helps."

My companion waved me off. "You know, for an intelligent woman, you talk more and say less than anyone I've ever met."

That tickled a laugh out of me, because Draco was the king of prevarication. "Pot, meet kettle," I pointed out.

Taking up a defensive posture, complete with sulking expression and crossed arms, Draco huffed at having been called out on his hypocrisy. I admit I found great amusement in his playacting, though, especially as it made him look adorably boyish, but I was careful to keep my expression blank so I didn't give him any performance anxiety issues. I really wanted to see what he'd come up with next.

"Fine. Since you're like a Crup with a sodding bone when it comes to the truth anyway," he said, complete with dramatic surrendering sigh. This was, I knew, all part of a much bigger game to him, after all. "Essentially, you're right. Congrats, you hit the bludger with the bat this time. Calenmai is a magical tradition for pure-blood parents to play matchmaker for their grown-up children who enjoy their adult freedom a little too much and who seem in danger of straying from Salazar Slytherin's exalted doctrine of blood superiority. It's also a way our kind can continue to segregate our vainglorious selves from you do-gooder Muggle-borns and those unfortunate orphan half-bloods you tend to hang out with."

I definitely rolled my eyes at the Harry cheap-shot, but waited for the rest.

He dropped the sullen act altogether, probably realising I wasn't buying it, and went straight for shock-value instead. "So, I figured that if I'm going to be confronting the end of my single days at long last, closing the chapter on twelve years of guilt-free sexual experimentation and forced to take the plunge into staid monogamy, who better to record my humiliation than the very woman who'd had the honour of sponsoring and viewing my first ever orgasm face?"

My jaw, almost literally, hit the floor.

It took me another few seconds to put into words what I wanted to say, because "Stupefy" would only land me in a Ministry jail for the night.

"You're saying you want me to come with you not because we've been best friends since seventh year and I know you just about as well as your mother, or even because you want my help getting out of this ridiculous custom altogether, but because I was the first to shag you? What, I get to pick the next Lady Malfoy and pass you off into her arms so you can experience marital bliss at long last, all because I had sex with you once upon a time?"

He grinned. "Apropos, isn't it? First, meet last."

I counted to thirty, trying to get my blood pressure back under control.

How could he be so bloody clueless? And his cheeky expression wasn't winning him any points, because I didn't find him charming in the least and told him as much.

"But you'll do it?" he insisted. "You'll come be my witness and help me pick the right bird for the job?"

I sighed. He was really pushing my buttons today, wasn't he?

Too bad they were all the wrong ones…

"Just so we're clear: you do know that painting is just a hobby." I waved at my latest piece sitting on the easel behind me. "Six-to-midnight, Monday through Friday, I'm actually a reporter," I reminded him. "You know what that means for the secrecy of your little get-together if you take me along, yes?"

It was a good-natured warning, but it was also meant to distract both of us from the things Malfoy tended to make me feel with the complication he'd conveniently dropped into my lap. I'd gotten really good at misdirection over the past decade-plus-two as a result of this friendship.

"I'll print the Calanmai story if it's a bang, and not a bust."

The look Draco threw me told me not to be dense.

"Don't be dense, Granger, why else do you think I'm inviting you along?"

No surprise that he had another agenda going on here.

Now I was getting a headache.

"Okay, enough of the snake-games. Who are you gunning for this time?"

I asked because I knew Draco never did anything without at least three reasons, and usually one of those intentions had a consequence for some hapless fool, but was so well-concealed, that Machiavelli, himself, would have been left with his head spinning when the dust finally settled. The phrase 'never saw it coming' was invented specifically to describe a Malfoy's scheming.

"Who says I'm after anyone?" he casually fired back.

Glaring at him didn't seem to faze him in the least. He simply stared back at me, expression innocent and eyes guileless, as patient as a serpent waiting to strike.

"It's my ex, isn't it?" It had to be. No one else we discussed, aside from maybe Lucius, could make Draco this careful with his expression. "Cormac's going to be there, isn't he?"

He blinked at me, the perfect little angel.

The McLaggens were 'new' pure-bloods, who had relocated to Britain from America a century ago. They'd kept their 'no mingling with No-Maj' conditioning when they'd moved, and so were eligible to participate in the Calenmai festivities.

"You're still trying to get me to ruin him," I accused.

It was as if I was speaking a foreign language; Draco simply stared at me as if he didn't comprehend what I was saying.

"I swear, one day you will tell me why you hate Cor so much."

He smiled like a cat at me. "No, I won't."

I pointed a finger at him in warning. "Look, I know you're up to at least three somethings devious, but I'll go along with it, if only to satisfy my curiosity. But if printing this story hurts one of my other friends‒"

That won me a genuine, softer smile. "You won't let it, I'm sure."

Having had enough of his games for one morning, my finger moved to suggest he head for the door. Like, now.

When he didn't, I gave him a rather pointed look. "Go, you rapscallion, before I change my mind!"

That got him moving. Chuckling all the way to the door, he paused as he turned the knob and opened it. "For the record: I do love your vocabulary in the morning, Granger. It gets me hard every time."

I used wandless magic to make sure the door gave him a good shove on his way out.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Author's Notes:

This story is already finished, so I'll be posting up a chapter every week/every other week until it's done. Warning: it's going to be at least 20 or more chapters long, depending on how I break up the narrative in some parts.

Please review! I'd love to know what you think of this opening.

XOXO,

- RZZMG