Hey all! Here's a little Marriage Law one shot I wrote while taking a short break from Second Chance. Hope you enjoy! Oh, and I own nothing.

All morning long as people passed by her desk, Hermione Granger received one of two reactions - looks of sympathy or snickers and laughs as people addressed her as "Mrs. Malfoy." By noon, she was more than confused by people's greetings.

"Have we received the post yet today?" she asked the girl at the desk beside her. In the two months since Hermione had started her position with the Ministry fresh out of Hogwarts, she had yet to learn the names of the people around her. The girl shuffled some papers around on her desk, producing a small stack of letters addressed to Hermione. She scowled, impolitely snatching them from the girl's hand. A Ministry letter caught her eye, and quickly Hermione tore open the envelope. Panic rose inside of her as her brown eyes skimmed the letter.

"What's wrong?" the girl asked as Hermione abruptly pushed her chair back and stood to gather her things.

"I need to find Draco Malfoy."

In a corner office on the other side of the Ministry building, Draco Malfoy was in heaven. He glanced down at the bobbing blonde head beneath his desk, revelling in the idea that this was his life. Seconds from release, the door burst open.

"Oh, gross!"

Draco looked up, quickly covering himself up as the blonde retreated under the desk. "Granger? What the fuck are you doing here? Didn't your filthy muggle parents ever teach you to knock?"

Her cheeks burned with anger and embarrassment as she trained her eyes on the office door. "We need to talk," she told him. "Alone."

With a nod of his head, Draco dismissed the blonde. He watched as the girl bumped shoulders angrily with Hermione, smirking at the look of disgust on that crossed the brunette's face. Whether the look was meant for him or the girl, though, Draco couldn't be sure.

"Well, what do you want then, Granger?" he asked, examining his fingernails once they were alone.

Hermione sighed, cautiously taking a seat in front of his desk. "Have you checked your mail today?"

Draco smirked at her, making her more uncomfortable. "Did you come here just to chat, Granger? We're not friends, never were, and never will be. Why would my post possibly concern you?"

It was Hermione's turn to smirk now. "Because, you twit, as of this morning, I'm your fiancee." Draco looked positively terrified at her admission. He stuttered to speak a few times, but nothing came out. Finally, Hermione handed over the letter that detailed the new Ministry-imposed Marriage Law. It stated that, in order to promote unity in a post-war world, purebloods and muggleborns who were single would be paired up and married. And Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were just lucky enough to be partnered.

"When?" he asked when he found his voice again.

Hermione sighed, wanting to feel some compassion for him as the news settled in. "Today, this afternoon. It's just us and the Minister of Magic."

Two hours later, Hermione sat outside the Minister's office, staring down at the gold ring on her left hand. She was still in shock as it sunk in that she was now a Malfoy. It wasn't until Malfoy exited the office minutes later, after finalizing their paperwork, that she focused on anything else. He sat beside her and sighed heavily.

"That was fucked up," he murmured, staring at the wall in front of them. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"What do we do now?" she asked with a shaky voice. "They didn't exactly give us time to plan anything. Where are we supposed to live? How...how do I tell my friends that I married you?"

Draco placed a hand on her shoulder, turning to face her. "Calm down, Granger," he said impatiently. "Bloody hell, you think you're the only one dealing with this?"

She hung her head, a curtain of light brown curls hiding her face. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking about you. I'm sorry, Malfoy." He shook his head to dismiss her apology.

"We've been given the rest of the week off," Draco informed her after a few minutes. "They're calling it a honeymoon period." He scoffed, rising from his chair. "What the hell kind of honeymoon do they expect two enemies to possibly have?"

He began to walk away, not bothering to care if Hermione followed or not. The truth was, she considered not following. She thought if she went home, crawled into bed and slept, she could awake from the nightmare that saw her married to the former Slytherin, Death Eater. It couldn't be real; there had to be a way to get out of this sham.

Eventually, she followed. She followed a few feet behind as Draco made his way to the lifts. When they arrived at the Atrium, she followed a few feet behind as they walked to the front doors. When they reached the cold, November air, Hermione stopped. Draco looked behind him when he realized she was no longer following.

"I can't live at your manor," she declared, wrapping her arms around herself. He turned to face her, but kept the distance between them.

"Where do you suggest we live then, Granger?" he asked, the smirk returning to his face.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I just, I can't live there. Not after..."

Now he understood. As much as he had grown to dislike Hermione Granger over the years, the torture she had endured at the hands of his aunt in his family's home was something he never wished to see. The pain of the memory was still fresh in their minds, and Draco understood that the past was keeping her from that place. He gave her a curt nod and reached out his hand for her to take.

"I have someplace else in mind," he told her when she stared suspiciously at his hand. Draco groaned when she didn't accept the proffered hand. It wasn't as if he was happy to have to touch her, but he knew it was necessary if they were ever going to leave the Ministry. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to hand you over to rogue Death Eaters. I'm not going to abandon you in some dark countryside. I just want to go home and forget this day ever happened."

Hermione put one foot in front of the other until she could reach his hand. She slipped her smaller one into it, feeling the cold fingers close around her hand. They reached the Apparition point at the end of the block, and when she opened her eyes they stood in front of a small, beach front cottage. The wind whipped her hair around as sand blew in all directions. She kept her face turned into Draco's arm to keep the offending substance out of her eyes. He led her inside, closing the door behind himself.

"There are two bedrooms," Draco told her as he watched her move through the rooms. She nodded so he knew she heard him. He followed her to one of the bedrooms, leaning against the doorway as she looked around. "You can have this room if you want. Or take the other, I don't really care."

She shrugged and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "What about my stuff? It's all at my flat."

"There are some things in the drawers," he told her. "Things my mother has left here over the years. Use what you want for the night. We can go to your flat tomorrow." Then he walked away, leaving Hermione where she was. The thought of following him never crossed her mind. It was too busy wondering how she happened into such a situation. A tear slipped down her cheek and she quickly swatted it away. Hermione vowed that she wouldn't allow herself to wallow in a situation she had no control over. She was married to Draco Malfoy; the least she could do was make the best of it.

When she found him in the living room staring into the fire with a class of amber colored liquid in his hand, she moved over to the couch and sat beside him.

"Where are we?" she asked, watching the flames dance in the hearth.

"The Isle of Wight," he replied. "This is one of my family's many vacation homes."

"Won't your parents mind that we're living here?"

He watched as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "No," he replied shortly. "I don't think so. They're not exactly speaking to me much these days." From the corner of his eye, Draco watched as Hermione turned to look at him with a look of surprise on her face. "I'm not a bad person, Granger."

"No, you're a good person who does bad things," she retorted sarcastically.

He sat forward and turned his head. "And aside from calling you a few mean names in school, what bad things have I ever done to you?" Draco inquired, feeling his anger bubble up inside him.

She scoffed and moved off the couch to stand on the other side of the coffee table, her hands balled into tight fists. "Gee, Malfoy, how much time do you have? Remember fifth year when you ratted us out to Umbridge? How about that time in second year when you said you hoped I would be the one who died in the chamber? Bet you didn't think I knew about that. Oh, and how about the time I was tortured at your aunt's hand, and you just watched. You did nothing." As angry as she was at Draco and the situation they were in, she was more angry that she allowed him to see her cry.

The color and emotion drained from Draco's face as she made her list. He was tired of being blamed for everything that went wrong for the members of the Golden Trio. With a final glare in her direction, Draco turned on his heel and went to his room.

Crucio!

The curse echoed through her mind as it had so many nights before.

Crucio!

Bellatrix Lestrange stood over her, her black curly hair flying around her as her crazy eyes focused on Hermione. Once again, she cast the curse, and Hermione could feel the pain shoot through her body. Her skin felt like it was on fire as daggers attacked her entire being.

Hands grasped her wrists tightly as she screamed.

"Hermione, wake up," she heard. "God damnit, wake up!" With a final scream, her eyes shot open. Her breathing was fast and labored and her wrists hurt. She tried to wrench them away, but Draco held on tighter. "I'll let you go when you calm down."

Her eyes finally focused on him, and she gasped. "Did I do that?" she asked, noticing the cut lip that bled the more Draco licked at it.

He nodded. "You've still got some right hook," he joked, hoping it would soothe her battered nerves. "What were you dreaming about? I could hear you screaming all the way down the hall."

With a few more deep breaths, Hermione felt right again. Draco had loosened his grip on her wrists and was rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles against her skin. She couldn't force her eyes away from his hands. "I was dreaming about that night at the Manor again. The nightmares happen a few times a week," she admitted.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, letting go of her wrists.

"It's fine," she replied, lowering her head back down onto the pillow. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Nothing further was exchanged between the pair as Hermione rolled over so her back was to him. Draco took that as a sign that he should leave.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee awoke Hermione just as the sun began to seep in through the closed drapes. The cream colored carpet beneath her feet was soft as she padded out of the bedroom. Draco was seated at the dining room table with a cup of coffee and the morning edition of The Daily Prophet. When he heard her enter he lowered the paper and bid her good morning.

"Is your lip okay?" she asked, taking a section of the paper.

He nodded, taking another sip. "I'm meeting Blaise today in Diagon Alley. Might be a good time for you to collect your things from your flat." The newspaper was back up in front of his once more. The conversation was over.

An hour later, Draco strolled into the Leaky Cauldron and plopped down on a chair across from his old friend.

"She kept me up half the night screaming her bloody head off," Draco stated, rubbing his hands over his face. "And I don't mean that in a good way."

"Good to see you too, Draco, old boy," Blaise grinned. "How's the married life treating you?"

"Piss off," Draco replied, lowering his hands. "Did you do what I asked?"

The Italian smirked, pulling a stack of papers out of his briefcase. "Hope is not lost, Malfoy," Blaise replied proudly. "As long as you don't knock up the mudblood, that is."

Draco scowled, and thought to point out that was his wife he was insulting, but just shook his head. "What needs to happen to get me out of this sham of a marriage?"

Blaise passed the papers across the table. "Stick around for six months. If you can prove to the Ministry that you and Granger aren't a good match, you can have it annulled. Now, if you do get her pregnant, that's another story. Should she become pregnant, your dear little wife will have to prove that it was against her will. That will most likely carry a pretty heavy sentencing in Azkaban, so don't do it."

"What about the first option?" Draco inquired, scanning through the documents. "Will they force me to remarry?" Blaise shook his head. "So, six months of this hell and I'm free." Blaise nodded.

Not long after lunch ended, Draco returned home to the cottage. Hermione was sitting on the front porch, boxes and luggage spread out around her. As he approached, he saw her shivering as the wind from the beach blew faster. "What the hell are you doing out here?" he asked. "Trying to get out of this marriage already?"

"You never told me how to get in," Hermione replied as her teeth chattered. His lips formed an "O" before he let out a sheepish apology. Picking up a box, Draco uttered the charm that would unlock the door and let her in. He then finished moving her belongings into the living room where she warmed herself by the fire.

"I thought you had a cat," Draco said, stacking the last box on top of two others.

She remained looking at the flames when she spoke. "He died."

"Sorry," he said, taking a seat on the sofa.

Hermione laughed once. "That's at least the third time you've said that to me in the last 24 hours. I didn't know know the word was in your vocabulary."

"I just moved all of your things in here," he reminded her tiredly. "The least you could do is say thank you. That is in your vocabulary, I assume."

She turned to face him. "Thank you, Malfoy." Hermione watched him nod his head before closing his eyes. Deciding it was safe, she moved to sit beside him just as she had done the night before. "I never, um, I was never the little girl who dreamed about her ideal wedding. I was too busy with school and books. And then when I got older, I was too busy with trying to survive in a world that a lot of people didn't think I belonged in.

"And now, I'm married to one of those people at the age of nineteen. And while I never thought about that big, grand wedding, I also never thought that my wedding would take place in an office with other couples waiting for their turn. I thought I would love my husband, and he would love me back."

Draco's eyes were still closed when she finished speaking her piece, but his hand reached out for hers, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "There's no getting out of it now, Granger. We're stuck with each other until 'death do us part'."

Hermione pulled her hand away as if it burned. "Will you ever stop calling me Granger? Aren't I a Malfoy now?"

"Only because the Ministry says so," Draco remarked, crossing his arms over his chest again. Hermione slapped him upside the head and stood up, grabbing whatever she could, and taking it to her room.

"Don't talk to me for the rest of the day," she said, slamming the door shut.

The nightmares came again that night. The same vision of the same room with the deranged Bellatrix standing over her, casting the Unforgivable until her body broke and gave out. Draco was by her side when she awoke in a panic.

"I know you told me not to talk to you, but you were screaming again," he told her. Hermione lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, grateful for his comfort. "Same dream?"

"You weren't there this time," she murmured, tightening her arms. "You've always been there before."

Without realizing it, his hands ran comforting lines up and down her back. "Have you taken anything? Dreamless Sleep Potion, perhaps?"

Hermione shook her head, her hair brushing Draco's cheek. "It doesn't work. The nightmare is too strong, I think."

"We'll figure something out," he promised.

"Draco, will you stay with me?" she asked. "Just until I fall asleep. Please?" He nodded, holding the blanket back for Hermione to lay back down. When she was settled, Draco pulled it back over her.

"Sleep well," he whispered as she closed her eyes.

Two weeks later, Hermione arrived home from work to find the beach side cottage empty. On the coffee table sat a small wicker basket with a note attached. Hermione pulled it off the handle as she opened the basket to reveal a small, orange kitten. Curious, Hermione opened the note.

Dear Granger,

I had to go out of town on business for a couple days. Hopefully, this little guy will help you sleep at night. Just do me a favor - don't name him after me.

Draco Malfoy

Hermione laughed and picked up the kitten. "Who knew Draco Malfoy had a heart," she mused as she poured a dish of milk for him.

Draco returned home three weeks later. Hermione was asleep when he walked in. The lights in the sitting room were off, and he was caught unawares by the cat toys on the floor. He fell down with a great thud. The light switched on and Draco looked up to see a sleep rumpled Hermione come running forward.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worriedly checking his head to make sure there were no lumps forming.

"Why is all this junk on the floor?" he asked angrily, pulling himself up to a standing position. He kicked at a toy and watched it roll under the couch before a little orange fur ball chased after it.

A look of anger and something that felt like betrayal crossed Hermione's face. "You were supposed to be home two weeks ago. Where were you?" She waited for the sneer that usually would have crossed Draco's face. She waited for him to tell her it was none of her damn business, and she could bugger off if she thought he was going to tell her.

Instead, he told her, "The deal took longer to sort through than we thought. I should have owled." Hermione stood stunned as she watched Draco's eyes follow the cat. "What did you name him."

"Cat," she replied.

"Yeah, the cat, what did you name him."

"Cat," she said again.

He turned an incredulous look on her. "You named the cat 'Cat'? Seriously?" Hermione nodded, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"It's from Breakfast at Tiffany's," she explained. "Holly Golightly says that she doesn't deserve to name the cat because the cat doesn't belong to her until she finds a home. I figured it made sense."

"This is your home, Hermione," Draco replied.

Hermione caught her bottom lip between her teeth. While Draco had been away, she had met with Harry Potter. During their meeting, Hermione had found several loopholes in the Marriage Law. Loopholes that would get her out of a loveless, unwanted marriage. The dilemma now was whether or not to tell Draco.

Things had begun to come together for them. He replaced her cat, sat by her bedside at night when nightmares kept her awake. He no longer insulted her blood status.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "This is your parents' home, and your home," she murmured. "It's not mine."

Her words were startling. Draco's mouth hung open as he watched Hermione pick up Cat and carry him off to her bedroom. In that moment, he realized that it was time to tell her what he knew about the Marriage Law. Slowly, he approached her bedroom door and knocked. When she gave him permission to enter, he turned the knob quietly, casting soft yellow light onto Hermione's laid out form.

"There are two options I can think of," Draco stated, approaching the chair by the side of her bed. Her back was to him, making it hard to tell if she was awake or not. "We don't have to live here. I'm sure there are plenty of great houses in the world we could live in. It doesn't even have to be in England. You want to move to Antarctica, well, I'll buy a heavier coat."

Hermione rolled over. "You wouldn't mind?" Draco shook his head. "Thank you, Draco."

"Do you want me to stay in here until you fall asleep?" he asked, glad that he didn't have to mention his second option. "Were you able to sleep while I was away?"

"Not well," she admitted. Draco settled into the chair as Hermione pulled the blankets around herself. "Good night, Draco."

The nightmares didn't come that night. For Hermione, at least. As the bedside clock flashed 3:06 AM, she was awoken to the sounds of Draco thrashing in his chair so hard that it tipped over. The crash to the floor jolted Draco awake. Breathing hard, he stared up into the concerned face of Hermione Granger, wondering how he got there and why she was looking at him.

"What happened?" he asked, dazedly.

"I think you were dreaming," Hermione replied, looking over the edge of the bed.

"How'd I wind up on the floor?"

"Chair tipped over." He looked over at the capsized chair and rubbed his backside. "You can sleep up here if you want." It took a moment for him to comprehend these words, but eventually, Draco picked himself up and climbed into the bed. He smiled when Hermione draped the blankets over him. The room was silent; he thought she had fallen asleep. "What were you dreaming about?"

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but he heard the question. Draco sighed, and rolled from his back onto his side to face her. "That night at the Manor that you've been dreaming about," he answered candidly. "I dreamed that my aunt was about to cast the Killing Curse on you, but I jumped in front of it."

Hermione snorted and turned onto her back. "Why would you dream about that?"

The blonde shrugged, though he was sure that in the darkness she didn't see it. "I like to believe that I'm noble enough to not let someone I've known most my life be killed for no reason."

"I'd like to think that too," she replied, rolling so her back was to him. "I'm going to the Burrow for a few days. They keep their floo open in case you need to get in touch."

Hermione stared into the fireplace. There had been no messages via owl, nor any floo calls in the three days she had been at the Burrow.

"Why did you leave?"

She turned her head to see George Weasley walking down the stairs. Sleep was still evident in his brown eyes as he pushed back shaggy red locks from his forehead.

Hermione shrugged. To be honest, she wasn't quite sure how to answer his question. Finally, she said, "He's left before too. Thought it was my turn."

George shot her a disapproving look. "You know it's saying something when I don't approve of something you do." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I've never known you do something just because someone else does it to you. You are not an eye-for-an-eye kind of person, Hermione."

"It's Draco sodding Malfoy," she retorted. "You'd be a little vindictive too. I'll bet, right now, he's screwing some other girl. In fact, the day we got married he had some blonde dolt underneath his desk."

A chuckle erupted in George's chest. "Now, that I believe." Hermione raised one eyebrow as to say "See?" His laughter subsided and he cleared his throat, setting a more serious tone. "Have you ever noticed, that despite all the name calling and that one time that he made your teeth too big, he has looked out for you?"

"Have you been inhaling potion fumes again?" Hermione asked, moving away from the usually humorous twin.

"Hear me out," George said, holding onto her wrist to keep her in place. "Who warned us about Death Eaters at the World Cup? Malfoy. Who didn't give away Harry when you three were captured? Malfoy. Who helped get you that job you have at the Ministry?"

"What?"

"Yep, Malfoy," George replied with a nod of his head. "In fact, I dare say, he asked to be paired with you when the Marriage Law was passed down."

Hermione looked back towards the fire. "Why would he do that?"

George shrugged. "I think you know why." He dropped her wrist and began to leave. "I know he's Malfoy, and we've made it a mission to hate him and his lot, but give him a chance. He hasn't been given many before."

Hermione watched the redhead's retreating figure make his way up the stairs. She sat shellshocked by George's words. It took several minutes for the young witch to collect her thoughts before she quickly scribbled a note of thanks to the Weasleys, grab a handful of floo powder, and get home. The house was dark and quiet. The floorboards beneath her feet squeaked as she made her way to Draco's room, only to find it empty. Next, she tried her room. He slept peacefully atop the blankets, Cat nuzzled into his side.

With a flick of her wand the room was illuminated in warm, glowing light. "Draco, wake up," she said harshly, hitting the mattress with her knee. The blonde groaned, pushing his face further into her pillow. "For heavens' sake, Draco, wake up." She kicked at the mattress again, and Draco sat upright looking around the room.

"Granger? What the hell?" he shouted, squinting from the light.

"I need to know something, and I need you not to lie about it," her voice shook as she spoke. "Did you get me my job?"

"I put in a good word for you," he answered.

"Did you...did you ask them to make me marry you?"

"I-"

"Draco, answer." He reached out for her, but Hermione backed away from the bed. "Did you?"

"Yes."

Her shaking hand covered her mouth as her eyes watered. "Why would you do that? You don't love me. You don't even like me. What have I ever done to you to make you hate me this much?"

Draco sighed, his right hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "You never did anything," he admitted. "The beliefs I was raised with taught me that your kind, the muggleborn kind, were a disease to our world." He shifted to the edge of the bed, his feet touching the floor. "I wanted to hate you because you were smarter than me, better at magic than me. It was easier to hate you, Hermione, because if I had let you into my life I feared what my father would do."

"I don't believe you," she sobbed.

Draco stood, watching as she backed away as he approached. His hands held her wrists down by her sides. "Tell me what to do," he murmured. "Tell me how I make you believe me."

She looked in his eyes, seeing the pain and anguish. "Kiss me." Hermione knew he wouldn't do it. His pureblood pride would take over, and he wouldn't do it. Her eyes widened as Draco dipped his head. She watched as his lips moved closer and closer. His eyes closed as his lips melded to her own. When his tongue brushed her bottom lip, Hermione let out a small gasp that allowed him the access he sought.

Draco let go of her wrists, wrapping his arms around her waist. The feeling of her arms slipping around his name caused him to smile into the kiss. He led her back to the bed, lifting her slightly off her feet. Laying her back, Draco pulled away from the kiss.

"Why'd you stop?" Hermione whimpered, her hands framing his face to draw him back to her lips.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

Hermione bit her lip. "If we do this, are you just doing it because I said I didn't believe you? Is this some Slytherin trick of yours?"

"I care about you, Hermione," Draco swore. "I really do. It isn't love, and I'm not sure if it ever will be. But I do care. This isn't some trick because you didn't think I'd accept your challenge." Getting the answer she wanted, Hermione began to work the buttons on Draco shirt as his lips crashed to hers once more.

An hour later, libidos sated, Draco looped his arms around a sweaty Hermione. "Bet you didn't expect that to happen when you stormed in here," he joked, breathing heavily. When she didn't reply, Draco glanced down to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep. A pensive look captured her face as she stared down at the arm draped across her waist. "What? What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No, no," she replied sounding lost in thought.

"You're just analyzing what we did," he finished for her. "It's not something you need to over think."

She turned her face up to look at him. "What was her name?"

Draco's eyebrows drew together as he wondered what she was asking. Then it dawned on him. "Daphne Greengrass. I was supposed to marry her sister before the law passed. Our parents arranged it long before we ever met."

"So you screwed around with her sister behind her back?" Hermione was appalled and pulled away from him, using the sheet to cover herself. "You weren't happy with that relationship so you cheated. What's to say you won't do that to me?"

He didn't bother to move or reach for her; it would have made no difference. "I told you, Hermione, I care about you. I know you still aren't fond of the idea of being married to me, but you are. I thought this-" he pointed back and forth between them, "was you coming to terms with that."

"I thought so too," she muttered in agreement. "I don't do things like this. I'm not good at rushing into things, and I don't like not having control. Why have you done all the things you've done for me?"

Draco shrugged, leaning away from the headboard. "They were hiring in your department, and I remembered you had your free the house elves crusade in school. It wasn't long after my father set me up with my job that I heard about it. For once in my life I wanted to do something useful, to help someone else, and not just because it benefitted me. After the war, I don't know. I saw and did so many awful things." The bedding ruffled around him, but Draco continued to stare down into his lap. He felt the hand on the nape of his neck before she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "What was that for?"

"Thank you, Draco."

The months that passed went by civilly. The nightmares still came, but wrapped up in Draco's arms, Hermione felt safer. After their first time, Draco never made another move to seduce her; merely, he slept by her side at night to provide the comfort they both so desperately sought. Hermione awoke one morning, on their five month anniversary, to a cold bed and a note on the pillow beside her. Draco was gone again, away on business. Cat moved up to nuzzle the hand that was raised so she could read the letter. As usual, Draco gave no inclination that he would be home soon.

"How long do you think it'll be this time, Cat?" Hermione asked, rubbing him behind his ears. She pushed herself out of bed and prepared for the day.

Draco came home three days later. The cottage was full of laughter and happiness as he locked eyes with Harry Potter, Ron and Ginny Weasley, and finally Hermione. He was polite in his greeting, and fought the urge to mock the group of friends as he once had. When Hermione offered him a spot beside her on the couch, asking Ron to move down, Draco shook his head and excused himself.

"What's got his wand in a knot?" Ron grunted, his eyes narrowing as the enemy stalked off. "Merlin, I can't believe you got stuck with that ferret. Why didn't the Ministry just put us together? You know we would have been good together."

Hermione's eyes lingered on the bedroom door as it closed. "I'll be right back," she said softly. The three friends watched with concern as Hermione made her way to the bedroom and shut the door behind her. Harry was the first to voice his concern of what Malfoy was capable of, but Ginny held him back from barging in.

Behind closed doors, Hermione was a nervous wreck. She leaned flush against the door as Draco unpacked, seemingly unaware of her presence. With his final back emptied, he looked up. "It's rude to leave guests unattended," he admonished, storing his suitcase in the closet. The usual gusto with which he used to mock her was no longer evident in his tone.

"You seem sad," she observed as she watched him slowly move from the bed to the closet and back.

Draco shrugged, propping a pillow against the headboard before reclining into the soft bed. "I'm fine."

Finally, she moved away from the door and sat on the edge of the bed. "What's bothering you?" Her hand rested on his calf, and she could feel the muscle twitch from the contact.

Draco sunk down deeper into the bedding. "You seem happier with them here," he grumbled. Hermione nodded in agreement; they had been her best friends for seven years. Who wouldn't be happy? "I haven't seen you that happy once since we..."

"Have you been happy?" she asked, her words coming out harsher than she had meant them. "Honestly, Draco, this situation has been less an ideal."

Draco jerked his leg away from her hand angrily and stood towering over her seated form. "Then do something about it," he yelled. "Quit waiting for something to happen. You hate it here? You hate being with me that much? I'll let you in on a little secret. On our six month anniversary, go to the Ministry and file for an annulment. Tell them we can't get along. Tell them I hit you. I don't care anymore. If you want out, I won't fight you."

"How long?" she whispered, standing up to face him as he backed up to allow her up. Her voice rose as she spoke again. "How long have you known about the annulment?"

"Since the day after we got married," Draco sneered. Hermione gasped. He had admitted that he asked to be paired with her, and then he started looking for loopholes? It made little sense in her mind, and she let that be known. "Perhaps I made a mistake in thinking we could both put the past aside. Maybe I thought, if there's one person in this world who could get passed what I did, it would be you." His anger began to falter as he spoke. Suddenly, he grew tired of fighting, tired of being unhappy. "I didn't expect you to forgive me right away, but I thought that after a few months you would see that I'm not that same person I was at Hogwarts. That night you asked me to kiss you, I thought it was a turning point, but you never asked me again. And, hey, that's okay. I know you thought it was a mistake."

She wouldn't deny that sleeping with him had been a mistake. What hurt more was that Draco had been perceptive enough to realize she felt that way. Hermione watched as he sank down onto the bed and covered his face with his hands.

"I can stay with Blaise for the remainder of the month," Draco offered, looking up at her. "Or, if you aren't comfortable here, you could stay with Potter or Weasley. As much as I want to, I won't keep you with me. I'm just sorry we couldn't make it work."

"I am too," she admitted, pressing a kiss to his temple. And then she was gone.

It was six months to the day they had wed that Draco saw her again. That morning he had received a summons from the Ministry of Magic, stating that annulment proceedings had been started in his name. He turned over to see Cat asleep on what used to be Hermione's pillow. "I'll be home soon, little guy," Draco told him, rubbing his ears. "And hopefully I'll have your mummy with me."

Draco strolled into the Ministry offices ten minutes late. His cool, uncaring demeanor shone through as he checked out the legs on a blonde, but inside his nerves were going haywire. His heart beat rapidly against his chest as he caught sight of Hermione. A sad smile crested on his face when she turned around, mirroring his expression.

"You just need to sign these, and it's over," she explained stoically. The quill was in his hand before he realized it, and he hurriedly signed his name in all the indicated places. Draco swore he heard Hermione breathe a sigh of relief when the marriage was dissolved. He watched her turn and exit the office, all the while willing himself to move, to go after her.

"Hermione, wait!" he called out. She stopped and turned around. Finally, his feet moved. "I bought a house, one free of any Malfoy memories. It's by a beach because I know that, despite the cold, you liked that. And Cat misses you. I swear he does. He sleeps on your pillow every night, and there's this shirt you forgot to take with you that he curls up on sometimes."

"Malfoy, stop rambling," she said impatiently, trying to dismiss everything he had said.

"Come home, Hermione. Please," he pleaded. "Give us another try. You heard them, we've got six months to find someone else. I don't want to find someone else. I want you. We'll plan your ideal wedding; anything you want, the sky's the limit. We'll finally give Cat a real name. Or he can stay Cat. He answers to it now. Just tell me what I have to do."

She stared up into his sorrowful gray eyes, and felt her resolve slip. "Kiss me," she demanded.

And he did.