White-blonde strands whipped across the clear eyes, the blue of which reflected in the window that its beholder stared into. The man's eyes were hardened with hate and sorrow as he stared at the woman working behind the counter. The store was filled with happy costumers as they bought Christmas gifts for their families and lovers. He resented them. He had nothing anymore. And it was all her fault; perfect little Granger. The mudblood had always been in his way, even in their first year at school. Anything bad that happened to him could be blamed on her. She was the reason he had so many scars. She was the reason he had become fatherless. She was the reason his mother had become a soulless woman that did nothing but wander aimlessly around the mansion.

The girl didn't seem to notice his gaze as she continued to work, smiling happily as she handed every costumer their bags of their merchandise. That smile annoyed him so much. He loathed it; he loathed her. He would kill her if he could, but she was always surrounded by Potter and the weasel. Even now, after they had graduated from Hogwarts, they were at her work with her. He could see them laughing beside her, trying to help gift-wrap the presents. Zabini, one of his old classmates, had given him an idea of how to get to her. But it hurt to even think about it. It would never happen, was what he promised himself as soon as he heard it. But now he was becoming desperate. He yearned to send the bitch to the afterlife.

Now, he was only mustering up the will to go in and do as he had to. He was trying to keep his lunch down, truthfully. The idea had literally made him sick the day before, when Blaise had suggested it. He hoped to not show weakness and throw up over it in front of The Golden Trio. It would only give them reason to fight him back from her.

The idea had been a good one, he had to admit. But the fact of the consequences still drove him insane. His eyes were bloodshot; he hadn't been able to sleep the previous night. He remained awake, thinking of how wrong this would all be. He didn't want to think about what could go wrong, for then he knew he would be awake for several years.

Hermione's day had been relatively good thus far. Harry and Ron had accompanied her to work again. She knew they were skipping out on their jobs, but for now, she didn't quite care. Lately she had been feeling odd when she was alone, so she was quite glad for the company.

Earlier that morning, she had woken up to find the boys attempting to cook breakfast in her kitchen. She could tell it was them from the smell of burning eggs. It was a disgusting smell, but she had become used to it. When Harry Potter and Ronald Weasely were your best friends, you had no choice but to get used to it. After they had put out the fire and thrown away the rubbish, they had gone to eat in Diagon Alley. Once they'd eaten a healthy (although Hermione doubted that Chocolate Chip pancakes were all too healthy) breakfast, the three went to Hermione's workplace. Since then, they had all been working together in the bookstore, trying to handle the Christmas rush. The holiday was only two weeks away, and everyone was feeling the pressure of present-giving, apparently.

Lunch came and went, and the day continued on smoothly, but around four thirty, Hermione could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She had no idea why, but her alert had turned on automatically. She kept her gaze to herself, making sure not to look suspicious. If someone was watching her, it would do no good to let them know that she knew. Her eyes stayed focused on the books and toys she was wrapping. Still, she made sure to stay very aware. Then the unthinkable happened…

Draco Malfoy stepped into the shop, cringing as the bell tingled, announcing his presence. He looked to the counter, only to directly catch Granger's eyes. He huffed under his breath, trying to gather his wits again, then walked to her, his strides confident. He had waited until Potter and Weasely had left her…and now it was time. Perfect timing. "Hermione Granger." He said out stiffly, reaching into his pocket, the stride becoming quicker.

Hermione's eyes were wide, and she faintly registered he was reaching for his wand. She was going to die. She grabbed for hers but he was on her already. He held onto her wand hand tightly, dragging a… box? Yes, a box out of his pocket. "Hermione Granger, marry me."

"Draco you aren't paying attention!" Blaise had reprimanded. "If you kill her, her suffering ends… but if you can get her to go through with this. You can make her life miserable for the next fifty years! She has no idea that when a wizard and witch marry that it's ironclad… she's used to those muggles and their stupid 'deevurs'(divorce) thing."

"But then I'd suffer." Malfoy groaned out. "How could I survive it?"

"Come on… you know you'd do anything to make Granger suffer…" Blaise smirked.

"Marry me, Hermione…"