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 ~ Witch Weekly Issue 6/2005 ~

Most Eligible Bachelor 2005

… And to nobody’s surprise, none other than Draco Lucius Malfoy is Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Bachelor of Year, 2005. With his striking looks, his vaults full of gold, sharp intellect, excellent manners, and an image overhaul, Mr Malfoy is what we like to call the full package. Who would have thought just a couple of years ago that he would even make our coveted list of bachelors? But there he went and won everybody’s heart in a storm. He is not only a philanthropist welcome at all galas, but also a shrewd businessman who has given Malfoy Industries a new direction. Gone are the days of shady deals. Mr Malfoy has traded in his Death Eater robes for a clean slate and any former critic will be hard-pressed to find a single fault with him. To top it all off, Mr Malfoy is a sight to behold. With his white-blonde hair, chiselled chin, and high cheekbones, he has many a witch sighing and fluttering her lashes.

While numerous witches have been seen on the arm of this most formidable picture of a wizard, Mr Malfoy has yet to go steady with any of them.

This Author advises any interested witch to make haste, for men in Mr Malfoy’s circles do not stay single long past their twenty-fifth birthday.

~ ~

“ Malfoy ?” Harry snorted and bit into his buttered toast.

Ginny, who had read the dreaded article aloud, smacked the magazine flat on the table so Harry got a good look at their school nemesis raising an eyebrow and giving a lopsided smile.

“The one and only.” Hugging her disgruntled husband from behind, Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek. “Who did you expect them to choose after I snatched the Boy-Who-Lived off the market?”

Displays of affection like this, combined with Ginny’s ritual of reading Witch Weekly out loud on Mondays – of all days, Mondays! – were what made Hermione want to speed up her efforts to move out of Grimmauld Place.

After the war and finishing 8th year at Hogwarts, when it had been just Harry and her at Grimmauld Place, it had been so nice. Soon enough though, Ginny moved in and Hermione retreated to her room to give the lovebirds space. If she was honest with herself, Hermione just liked the idea of a closed door between herself and whatever Ginny and Harry were up to. Walking in on them shagging in the living room once had been one time too many. Harry had not been able to look her in the eye for days after that. Of course, she thought of both as friends and did not begrudge them their happiness, but there was only so much she needed to know about her friends’ relationship.

During the first years in her ministry job, Hermione was so engrossed in her work that with all the overtime and practically collapsing during the weekend, she did not find the time to look for a new place to live. When Harry and Ginny married earlier the year before, Hermione began to feel like an intruder. Her friends talking about starting a family sure did not lessen her feelings.

Having started a new chapter in her life job-wise, it was time for Hermione to start a new chapter housing-wise. After years of frustration with the outdated magical legal system, Hermione had quit her job in the ministry and fulfilled her dream of owning a bookshop. “Where Worlds Meet” was the first bookshop of its kind in the wizarding world, offering both wizarding and Muggle literature. The fact that her flatmates were expecting their first child only moved the task further up Hermione’s to-do list.

“But Malfoy ?” Scrunching his nose, Harry flung the repulsive magazine away from him.

“He’s fit.” At that offhand comment from his wife, Harry spat coffee all over. Hermione hissed and shielded her breakfast with her hand.

“Fit?!” Harry cried out. “Hermione, help me out here!” After an eye-roll that should have dislocated her eyes, Hermione could not stop herself from studying Malfoy’s photograph. He was good-looking, there was no use denying it. Just before she could reluctantly agree with Ginny, the photograph winked. The gesture made Hermione want to slap him in the face.

“I have to open the store.” Ignoring Harry’s protest, she went to the front door to apparate to Horizontal Alley, a side street to Diagon Alley. Her bookstore was the last building in the street before a brick wall dead-end that opened up into another entrance to Muggle London.

Hermione was in the back room of her store for one minute before she was met with pure madness. Her usually slow and peaceful Monday morning was disrupted by a throng of people squeezing into her stacks. More patrons than even at her grand opening bustled through the aisles.

After the seventh witch had declined her “May I help you?” without even looking at her, Hermione had had it and shoved her way through the masses, ever closer to the epicenter of attention. Having advanced to nearly the farthest point of her store, an all too familiar woman stood before her: curly blonde hair, hideous green blazer and skirt, and a matching green magical quill jotting down notes on a notepad. A resolute elbow thrust into Rita Skeeter’s side a moment later and Hermione found the cause of the ruckus: Draco Malfoy. He was sitting in one of her plush armchairs and shielding his face with a book on the history of the second Ogre War. She placed an outstretched hand on the top of the book and firmly pressed downward, forcing him to look up at her. They met each other with forced smiles.

“May I help you?” she pressed through gritted teeth. Her voice carried the unmistakable tone of a determined “leave” ! Malfoy stood from his seat and towered over her. Just like their school days, he looked down upon her.

“Granger.” He said her name like it would leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“No, thank you; I’m just browsing.” He grabbed a random book from the shelf and leafed through the pages. Hermione would not tolerate him and his entourage of crazed witches and sensationalist reporters in her store. She had loyal patrons to tend to. Tapping her foot impatiently, she squared her shoulders and propped her hands on her hips.

“I might know just the book for you,” Hermione clipped with a wicked grin and took hold of his elbow. With Malfoy in tow, the masses split like the Red Sea. Reaching the designated shelf for self-improvement books, Hermione scanned the titles and grabbed the book that had come to mind: Personal Space – how keeping distance can heal you . She shoved it into Malfoy’s chest. He scrutinized her choice with knitted eyebrows and tsked.

“What did you say? You want me to ring you up? No problem.” It was a very liberal interpretation of his most undignified noise, but Hermione could not care less about any further explanation.

Two barcode scan beeps later, the books were shoved into a paper bag and held out to her unwilling customer.

“Still as charming as a Blast-Ended Skrewt, I see.” Malfoy donned his trademark smirk and strode off before she could retort. Hermione hoped that his retreat was the last she had to ever see of him. His merry band of followers trailed behind him like baby geese following their mother. Quiet settled once more over her store.

Chapter Text

 ~ Witch Weekly Issue 7/2005 – Valentine’s Special~

Mixed Signals

Witches, please, keep a Calming Draught at the ready, for you might need it after reading the following: only a week ago Draco Malfoy was crowned Most Eligible Bachelor by this very magazine. And although Mr Malfoy claims there is no future Mrs Malfoy in sight, it appears that he might be off the market soon. That is, of course, if you believe a trustworthy source like Mrs Pansy Nott, née Parkinson.

When probed about Mr Malfoy’s considerable wear and tear on women, his ex-girlfriend commented with a shrill,

“Womanizer? I don’t think you will be able to call him that for much longer.”

Perhaps his mother might have given a hint for identifying the lucky witch.

Forgotten are the days of blood prejudice, as Narcissa seems to be on-board with a rather unconventional pick of the bride.

“It is such a big step, and very out-of-the-box within pure-blood circles, but times have changed and I support my son.”

Has the sole heir to the Malfoy wealth strayed from the pool of possible pure-blood matches? Will he be the first to break free of the Sacred 28?

This news hits especially hard on the day of love – Valentine’s Day – when lonesome witches are all but queueing up to get a chance to be Mr Malfoy’s date.

Don’t fret, Dear Reader, for this Author will do anything to get to the bottom of this mystery.

~ ~

With Malfoy at the centre of attention two weeks in a row, Hermione was forcibly reminded of the incident a week ago. Was there nothing more interesting to report than Draco Malfoy's love life?! But who was she kidding.... It was Witch Weekly , after all.

“You really think Malfoy is dating a half-blood witch?” Ginny asked nobody in particular, while refilling their cups with coffee.

“Could also be a Muggle-born,” Hermione commented and reached for the jam over Harry’s plate.

Her friends’ brows went so high that they were close to merging with their hairlines. “Muggle-born? Malfoy? Don’t think so.” Harry shot her a look that clearly told her he thought she must be out of her mind for even suggesting it. Hermione merely spread jam on her toast and shrugged.

“Skeeter twists the truth and helps along the less interesting parts with a pinch of fiction.” Since she had published several lurid articles about Harry and the rest of the Golden Trio after the war, all of which could at best be described as leaning towards the truth, there had finally been consequences for Skeeter's artistic freedoms. She was no longer writing for the Daily Prophet , but had moved to Witch Weekly . The tabloid suited her more than the Prophet, in Hermione’s opinion.

Not exactly keen on the repeating topic of Draco Malfoy, Hermione grabbed her toast and headed off to her shop.

She heard them before she saw them. A cacophony rang out. 

"Mr Malfoy! Mr Malfoy!" 

"Are the rumours true?" 

"A statement, please!" 

"What would your father say?" 

"What's her name?" 

Shouts from reporters heralded the arrival of Draco Malfoy. As before, he not only dragged in reporters, but also the potential future Mrs Malfoy.

"Oh no!" groaned Hermione, hurrying to the entrance. She threw herself against the door with all her weight, hoping to stop Malfoy from entering, but after a short struggle he pushed through.

His entourage of reporters and groupies nearly trampled Hermione upon filing in after him.

Once again he occupied her plush armchair, opting for a book on potions this time. While it was still possible to get through the crowd last time, this time they were pressed so closely together that Hermione did not dare to think of pushing her way through. Everyone was so eager to catch a glimpse of Malfoy, an accident was inevitable. The rumours of a non-pure-blood bride in combination with Valentine's Day created a constant noise level. The volume was so deafening, Hermione could not even hear her own thoughts anymore.

“QUIET!” Hermione employed the same enhancement charm Dumbledore used after the uproar in fourth year when Harry had been chosen as Triwizard Champion. All heads whipped around to look at her.

“This is not a Draco Malfoy Fan Clubhouse! This is a bookstore, a place of peace and quiet. Anyone not here to buy a book will leave immediately.” The delusional future Mrs Malfoy candidates ducked their heads and stared to the ground as they quickly left. The reporters, though, were not as easily swayed.

Hermione stomped towards the cluster of reporters around Malfoy, brandishing her wand furiously.

“This is not a press room either.” They were not impressed.

“I am counting to three. Woe to those who have not disappeared by then.” Angry sparks flying from the tip of her wand only emphasised her threat as she began counting. Just in time for the last syllable to fall from her lips, the last reporter sprinted through the door. Only Malfoy remained in his armchair, an amused look on his face.

“Well done, Granger. Once a bossy prefect, always a bossy prefect.” His gaze fell back to the pages of the book to continue reading, but she blocked his view with her hand.

“What?!”

“This isn’t a library, Malfoy. Buy a book and be on your way.” As Malfoy shut the book, Hermione pulled her hand back just in time.

“Do you treat all your patrons like this, Granger?” Putting the book aside on the sidetable, he crossed his arms and studied her.

“You aren’t a patron,” she mirrored his stance, finger tapping impatiently on her arm.

“I distinctly remember buying two books last time I was here, Granger.” A triumphant smirk crossed his lips that made Hermione shoot daggers at him with her eyes.

“Why are they following you around anyway?” His hand went to clutch his heart in a display of mock shock and hurt.

“You insult me, Granger. You are not up to date on current events. I am only the most eligible bachelor in all of wizarding Britain. And if Witch Weekly has it right, I will be married soon enough to some mystery woman.” This merely made her roll her eyes in annoyance.

“Well, my condolences to the mystery woman.” If he were any other man, Hermione would have offered her condolences for his situation. But he was not just any man, he was Draco Malfoy and so Hermione could not muster the strength to offer him her sympathy. Of course, she did not wish him to be besieged by everyone like that, but surely Malfoy had to have enough influence to get rid of them or at least keep them at a distance.

An awkward silence passed between them, interrupted only by Hermione’s foot, tapping the floor.

In the end, Hermione went around the corner into another aisle and fetched a book to help things along.

Returning to the far corner of her shop, she jerked her head in the direction of the counter. “I found just the book for you. Let me ring you up.” Although his glare let her know that he wished for her to just leave him alone, Malfoy gave a curt nod and followed her. Her choice of The Modern Wizarding Husband was joined by yet another very random pick from Malfoy. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of landing another insult to her, Hermione turned and retreated into her backroom, not even sparing him a last glance as she heard the bell signal his departure.

Chapter Text

~ Witch Weekly Issue 15/2005 ~

Calling the Bluff

After the revelation that Draco Malfoy ventured into strange waters – namely non-pure-blood brides – only pure-blood witches have been seen adorning Mr Malfoy’s arm on social occasions over the last couple of months.

But this Author will not be misled.

Although nice to look at, none of his conquests seemed to hold his attention. Quite the contrary! Mr Malfoy’s reactions ranged from bored to downright annoyed with his companions.

Parading around with one pure-blood prospect after the other is such an obvious ruse it is almost laughable.

Mr Malfoy obviously has something to hide. Most likely, a bride outside the pure-blood circles. You can always rely on a mother to speak the truth. While Narcissa Malfoy is ready to welcome fresh blood to the family tree, Mr Malfoy seems to like playing hide-and-seek.

This Author can’t be deceived so easily and will make sure to provide a name for you, Dear Readers, soon. The future Mrs Malfoy won’t stay a secret for long!

~ ~

Hermione was sick and tired of Draco Malfoy. Or, rather, with his visits to her store. His stops at her bookstore had become frequent, as were the speculative articles about his most recent choice of bimbo after any social event he graced with his presence. She no longer wanted to hear about him, much less see him.

On a particularly stressful day, Hermione had sunk to hissing the suggestion that Flourish and Blotts would surely be delighted to have him as a client and also offered a larger selection.

“Sorry to disappoint you there, Granger, but you are wrong.” Although he eyed her with an amused look on his face, his voice carried no arrogance. Otherwise Hermione might have finally resorted to hexing him out of her store. 

“Flourish and Blotts may have the larger selection of wizarding titles, but your store has a better variety and is the only store that also sells Muggle literature, which I am not averse to, as you may have noticed.” She had noticed. From time to time he would wander through the shelves, all of them, even the Muggle literature. He seemed interested in a wide variety of subjects, which fascinated Hermione. 

"And while they certainly wouldn't be disinclined to accept my gold, I wouldn't be welcome there as a customer.” Malfoy had not looked at her while saying it, much less raised his voice to much more than a whisper. It was at that moment that Hermione had to admit to herself that he had changed. Truly, Malfoy himself was tolerable, civil even, a steady calm presence in the armchair in the far corner of her shop.

All that, however, was forgotten when Hermione thought of his devotees. Every time he imposed his presence on her shop, a few reporters and fans would also sneak in, and Hermione could only drive them away with great difficulty. Fed up with anything Malfoy, Hermione did not even wait for any comments on the article from her friends and fled to her store where she hopefully would not encounter the Slytherin.

The week went by rather uneventfully and Hermione could not be more grateful. She basked in the normality of her store life: opening, preparing pick-ups, helping customers, rearranging shelves, decorating the display for the recommendation of the week. Never had everyday tasks been so blissful to her than after weeks of Malfoy and Co. intruding her store.

Saturday afternoon was going slow, so Hermione used the time to arrange the pick-ups for her patrons in her backroom, which was more like a narrow hallway with a couple of bookshelves leading to her back door. Most customers dropped by to get their ordered books within a week, but there were always some stragglers who tended to forget. She had just noted the names of patrons she would need to send a reminder by owl when the cause of countless headaches appeared in the doorway. It was none other than Draco Malfoy who strode into her backroom like he owned the place.

“Malfoy?” Hermione gasped and crossed her arms. Since the space was very limited, she inevitably blocked his way.

“Miss me, Granger?” He quirked a brow and motioned for her to make space for him to walk past. 

Over the course of his visitations to her store, Malfoy had begun to speak familiarly to her, not that Hermione had ever thought to ask him to call her Ms Granger, after all. His remarks, very few in between long bouts of silence, had lost all malice and Hermione never minded when he did seek her company briefly. If he had been like this at Hogwarts, she would probably have got on quite well with him.

Although they had fallen into the routine of cordial - even friendly - banter over the past weeks, Hermione did not feel up for any jokes right then. He had crossed a line by entering her backroom.

“This is going too far, Malfoy. You can’t just come back here!”

“Come on Granger, don’t be like that. Am I not a loyal customer of your store?” He put on the charming smile she often saw in Ginny’s Witch Weekly . That might work for many impressionable witches, but it was time for Hermione to put her foot down.

“Just because you buy two books whenever you invade my store, doesn’t give you the right to be back here,” Hermione hissed. She pushed against his chest, her hands smacking against him, in hopes he would budge and leave. 

He did not.

“Two books, only for you, Granger,” he purred, and gently placing his hands on her hips, he turned them so they were both squeezed into the narrow passage. Hermione held onto the lapel of his jacket to make sure he did not just walk past her.

“Feisty one, aren’t you?” His eyes had wandered from her hands clasped on his jacket up to her eyes, a mischievous glint gleaming. A broad grin revealed the perfect rows of white teeth as he squeezed her hips.

His obscene comment made her blush and the anger rise in her. Hermione stamped her foot and let out a frustrated, "Just shut up and get out of my sight.”

“Let’s make a deal, Granger.” He had bent down to whisper into her ear. “You let this pass and I will never come near your little store ever again.”

“Never?” This was too good to be true. Things would go back to how they were.

“Never,” he echoed her and grinned.

“Deal.” She released his lapels and stepped to the side. Never had a decision been so easy for Hermione.

He grinned at her triumphantly, all shining white teeth. Hermione would let him have this - her gain was far greater than anything he would get from using her delivery entrance.

“Don’t come crying when you miss me, though, Granger.” One playful wink and he was gone. With the prospect of never having to see him again, Hermione would have shouted something after him to not let him have the last word, but as it was, she was content.

That night there was a skip to her walk as she happily made her way to the flat tour. The realtor was perfectly pleasant and the flat was just what Hermione had been looking for. It was in her price range and close to her store. It was Hermione’s lucky day. With Malfoy out of her life and a signed lease, she felt like walking on clouds all the way home, even making a detour to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour to get Ginny the mint-choco ice cream she craved lately.

“You’re in a good mood today.” The way Ginny shovelled spoon after spoon of mint-choco into her mouth, she reminded Hermione of Ron. But since her friend was almost three months pregnant and mint-choco ice cream was one of the least disgusting things Ginny began to crave, Hermione forgave her for the horrible display. Even terrible table manners could not dampen Hermione's spirits.

“It’s just been a great day. I found a flat. By the end of the month, you will have the house all to yourselves.” Her hazelnut ice cream had never tasted better. Hermione closed her eyes as she savoured the taste.

“Congratulations!” Harry and Ginny exclaimed in unison. They were genuinely happy for her and not just grateful to finally have her out of the house.

Her hazelnut ice cream had never tasted better. Hermione closed her eyes as the flavour spread on her tongue. After a delightful chat with her friends in which they shared her excitement for finding the perfect flat, Hermione indulged with a glass of wine and a good book in her bathtub. She deserved to treat herself. The future was bright… for now.

Chapter Text

Ginny had been uncharacteristically quiet, her eyes drinking in the pages of Witch Weekly hungrily before she shrieked, “Hermione Jean Granger!”

Both Harry’s and Hermione’s heads snapped up to look at the shocked redhead.

“Is this why you are moving out?! Are you moving in with him?! How could you keep this from us?!” One accusing question after the other fell from her friend’s lips, but Hermione could not make any sense of it.

“Explain yourself!” Ginny slammed the magazine down on the table in front of Hermione and pointed to the front-page photograph of Malfoy and her standing close together in her backroom. For anyone who did not know what had gone down between them that day, this must have looked very intimate. The photograph loop depicted Malfoy bending down to whisper into her ear while she held onto his jacket. The headline read ‘The Grand Reveal: future Mrs Malfoy none other than War Heroine Hermione Granger.’ Hermione immediately regretted the day she set Rita Skeeter free from the jar she had kept her in during fourth year. She grabbed the magazine and flipped to the article about Malfoy and her.

~ Witch Weekly Issue 16/2005 ~

The Grand Reveal

Well played, Mr Malfoy! Had the door to the backroom of Ms Granger’s store not been slightly ajar, this Author would be none the wiser. For months now, Mr Malfoy has succeeded in hiding his lover in plain sight, right under our noses! Although many of us speculated about Mr Malfoy dating a half-blood witch, he in fact found love with Golden Girl, War Heroine, recipient of the Order of Merlin, and Muggle-born witch extraordinaire Hermione Granger. It’s quite the surprise, to say the least. As you might know, Dear Readers, the pair had a rough start as rivals at Hogwarts. Exactly this knowledge of their shared past was used to trick everyone. While they continued to maintain the façade of enemies, Mr Malfoy skillfully professed his love. Whenever he visited Ms Granger’s bookstore, he would buy a book to convey his feelings.

Among the titles, many fell into the category of enemies-to-lovers or romances where the protagonist gave up all family traditions to be with his loved one. Quite a few were also beloved Hogwarts love stories. Might this have gone on longer than we know for Mr Malfoy?

They might seem like an unlikely pair, but their story has every ingredient to a perfect romance: passion, forgiveness, love, and destiny.

The great questions, Dear Readers, now are: How and when did this begin? Has Draco Malfoy been pining for Hermione Granger since Hogwarts? Where is this relationship going? Will there be wedding bells soon?

All of which will be answered first in Witch Weekly .

~ ~

The article had Hermione so mad that a bout of accidental magic set the paper in her hands aflame.

“Skeeter! That lying – Ugh!” Countless swearwords wanted to break free but Hermione had sworn never to be riled up by that bad excuse of a reporter ever again.

That woman could make an intention out of any coincidence. It had not escaped Hermione's notice that Malfoy bought a colourful mixture of romance novels, but that was only because he always pulled a book from the shelf near the cash register without even really looking. It had been to spite her and had the shelf near the register been filled with murder stories, Skeeter would have come up with some nonsense about Malfoy plotting to kill her.

“Unbelievable!” Hermione threw the smouldering magazine into the sink where it could burn away safely before she turned towards Ginny. “You can’t seriously believe this!” How could Ginny still believe anything that dreadful excuse for a reporter printed after all the lies they had written about her and Harry?

“B-But the picture! And just yesterday you were so happy.” Ginny tried to defend herself.

“You even said that Malfoy might be dating a Muggle-born.” Harry came to his wife’s defence and Hermione felt like ripping his head off. She had helped him through Hogwarts, had made sure that he and Ron survived in the Forest of Dean and this was how he repaid her? It was high time for her to move out but first, she had to rectify the utter nonsense Skeeter spouted about her in the most widely read witches' magazine in the whole of England.

“Save your excuses. You ought to know me better.” No longer feeling hungry, Hermione stood up, her chair skirting noisily over the floor, and shook her head in disappointment. Guilty silence settled over her friends as she stomped back to her room to pen an angry letter to the magazine.

After writing herself into a rage, Hermione was so fired up that she immediately penned a letter to Malfoy saying that it was his fault and thus he had to put it right. Venting her righteous anger allowed her to breathe more freely again.

The rest of her day only went downhill from there, though. The moment she apparated into Horizontal Alley she was swarmed by reporters. Everyone wanted details about her relationship with Malfoy. 

When had it started? 

How had it started? 

Were they in a serious relationship? 

Had Malfoy proposed?

Then there were the fans and the antis, both very vocal about their opinions. While Hermione was the perfect match for Malfoy in their enemies-to-lovers romance for one, she was an undeserving, manipulative and money-grubbing whore for the other. However, the way they communicated their opinions and feelings was completely different. Fans flocked to her bookshop and kept reiterating how well she and Malfoy fitted together. The antis sent howlers. Hermione was amazed at the diversity and variation of the insults.

To Hermione’s dismay, everything only got progressively worse throughout the week. The howlers took over so much that one could no longer understand one's own words and Hermione was forced to close her shop for the time being, at least until the commotion had passed. The breaking point for Hermione, however, was when she got an offer for a book deal on her tragic love story.

As Witch Weekly did not intend to publish a correction, and with no feedback from Malfoy either, Hermione felt compelled to do something in her desperation she would otherwise have avoided at all costs: apparate to Malfoy Manor.

Taking one deep, calming breath, Hermione pushed the wrought-iron gate open and took determined, long strides towards the manor. Every step along the path between the high hedge-rows caused her resolve to falter a bit, made her want to turn back and run. Instead, Hermione balled her hands into fists and increased her speed.

All the words she had been thinking of escaped her when not a house-elf, but Narcissa Malfoy opened the door. The permanent expression on her face as if she smelled something bad, which Hermione remembered from seeing her at King’s Cross a few times, was gone and had given way to a friendly smile.

“Ms Granger.” The way the woman said her name was not stiff as one would greet an unwelcome visitor, but warm and kind. These two simple words dissolved Hermione’s anger, nervousness left in its stead.

Chapter Text

“Hello, Mrs Malfoy.” Hermione moved her weight on her feet and fumbled with the strap of her beaded bag. Even with a kind smile on her lips the older woman was still intimidating.

With a sidestep, Mrs Malfoy opened the door widely and made room for Hermione to enter the spacious reception hall.

“I take it you are here to see my son?” The witch raised a perfectly plucked blond brow, an amused glint in her eyes.

“Uh… Yes. I’m here to talk with him about the article… which is….” Hermione thought about how to put it kindly.

“The invention of an overactive imagination.” Mrs Malfoy finished the sentence for her. “I am aware. My own words were about Draco’s decisions on how and with whom he conducts business.” She shook her head and began to lead Hermione down a hall lined with busts of Malfoy patriarchs.

“Although I have to say that I do support Draco in every decision he makes, business-wise or other.” As the last word made it past Mrs Malfoy’s lips, her blue eyes appraised Hermione from head to toe. Judging from the broadening smile on her lips, Hermione must have met her standards, although she was not sure that this was something she wanted. However, having the woman's approval meant nothing in terms of the relationship Hermione wanted with her son - the relationship she wanted with Malfoy was none.

“Draco is out at a meeting, but I think you won’t find that your time has been wasted if you choose to wait, Ms Granger.” A double door swung open to reveal what was probably the most beautiful private library Hermione had ever seen. At the sight of walls upon walls and shelves upon shelves filled with old tomes, Hermione gasped. If it were not situated in Malfoy Manor, Hermione would have declared it heaven on earth.

“Feel free to browse our selection. Draco has imposed himself upon your store often enough, from what he has told me.” That Malfoy had told his mother about coming to her store was completely lost to Hermione as she tried to take everything in at once. The books. The large window front for natural light. The grand fireplace with plush armchairs around it. The second story! She used the magical index, very similar to the one at Hogwarts, to find the first book that popped into her head. At some point, Narcissa quietly exited the library outside of Hermione’s awareness. 

Hermione was not sure for how long she had been enjoying the book, caressing the leather, smelling the parchment, and running her fingers over the letters as she read, when she was interrupted by a snort from behind her.

“ Hogwarts: A History . You have the largest private collection in all of England at your disposal and you choose this?”

“It’s a first edition,” she shot back at Malfoy as she turned towards him. He was standing so close she almost knocked the book into his stomach had he not caved in on himself slightly.

“Most of the books in our library are, Granger.” Malfoy went on as if nothing had happened.

“It’s my favourite book.”

“I know.” 

He knew? 

Draco Malfoy knew what her favourite book was? 

How? 

Her eyebrows shot up at his statement.

“You droned on about it often enough around Potter and Weasley in Potions that everyone in our year would know, believe me.” He paired his words with a roll of his eyes, an indifferent shrug, and a lazy smile.

She snapped the book shut and put it back. “Haha, Malfoy, very funny, which brings me back to why I am here. It’s just as funny as all those paparazzi now permanently parked outside my bookstore because of the article you do not seem to have done anything about. ” She emphasized her statement by jabbing an accusatory index finger into his chest. His eyes wandered slowly down to her finger on his chest, then back up to her eyes.

The smile immediately fell from his lips and he frowned. “I have done something, Granger.” Malfoy had spoken to her in such a cold way that it felt like a slap in the face.

“Oh, really?” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest lamely; all the things she wanted to verbally throw at him slipped away at being reprimanded by him. Malfoy motioned for her to follow him and they entered a study. While Malfoy searched for something in one of the desk drawers, Hermione noticed that the books he had purchased from her store were stacked on it. Well, the books she had picked were on his desk while the damn romance novels he had bought at random were shoved into a dark corner. Thin strips of fabric, bookmark tails as Hermione liked to call them, indicated that Malfoy had indeed begun to read into some of her recommendations.

“Here.” Malfoy held a rolled-up parchment out for her to take. It appeared that he had also written to Witch Weekly with the same result as her letter.

“Satisfied?” he asked when she gave the parchment back.

“Yes! Well, no. Damn Skeeter!” Hermione felt ashamed that she had accused him like that and had needed proof that he indeed had tried to do something about the situation. Her shoulders slumped in defeat; she did not know what to do about their dating rumour anymore.

“Sorry, Malfoy.” Although she still was not friends with Malfoy, Hermione could admit when she was wrong, at least to maintain their civility.

Pop

A house-elf appeared in the study and announced that Mrs Malfoy was expecting them both for tea on the terrace.

Hermione was about to protest and make excuses, but Malfoy shot her a look that silenced her immediately. “Apology accepted if you sit with my mother and I for tea.”

It was, at once, strange and pleasant to drink tea with the Malfoy’s.

Strange, because she could hardly call Malfoy Malfoy in front of his mother and therefore had to use his first name. Draco. It was a foreign sound to her, but Malfoy seemed spurred on by it to try even harder to be nice to her. Hearing Malfoy call her Hermione, was even stranger still. He made every syllable of her name sound refined. Merlin, he even told his mother that her bookshop was unique since it also offered Muggle literature. Who was this man, and what had he done with the real Malfoy? Was that a glimpse at what being his friend could be like?

Pleasant, because Mrs Malfoy seemed genuinely interested in her shop and career change. That she was such a skilled conversationalist did not surprise Hermione, however. What did surprise her, was that Mrs Malfoy was interested in talking to her at all.

As house-elves cleared away the tea service, Draco… no, Malfoy had even offered her the chance to browse further in his library. However, she had declined with a “thanks” and returned to Grimmauld Place.

There, she busied herself with packing boxes in preparation for the move. A task Harry  helped her with, apologizing again and again that he had believed the article for even one second, while Ginny indulged in some gruesome combination of sour and spicy foods. Doing it the Muggle way helped her occupy both her hands and mind, keeping her from over-analyzing the day’s events.

The next Monday morning, something was off. When Hermione came down into the kitchen, Harry and Ginny stopped their conversation and busied themselves with buttering their toasts. Witch Weekly was noticeably absent from the table. It was a clear warning sign. Hermione quickly decided that there was no point in dragging it out unnecessarily, so she asked, “What did they write this time?” Ginny and Harry exchanged a concerned look.

“You could take the day off today. We could shop for some furniture for your new flat.” The suggestion was a half-hearted distraction attempt on Harry's part and simply bounced off her.

“That bad?” If Harry thought it best for her to keep the store closed, it had to be bad.

Ginny got up and took the magazine out of its hiding spot in the cookie jar.

~ Witch Weekly Issue 17/2005 – Dramione Special~

A Mother’s Approval

My sincere condolences to any witch who had hopes of becoming the next Mrs Malfoy. This dream will probably remain only that, a dream.

It seems Mr Malfoy wants to take his relationship with Hermione Granger a step further. Just last weekend, Ms Granger was spotted visiting Malfoy Manor. Not only was she greeted by Narcissa Malfoy herself, but she was also invited to tea by the matriarch of the family. Judging by the pictures, Narcissa Malfoy is very fond of her son's partner.

Could wedding bells be ringing soon?

And do you notice anything else, Dear Readers?

Exactly! When the couple doesn't feel compelled to put on a show for the public, they also call each other by their first names. The way their lips form each other's names is clearly visible here. 

Draco. 

Hermione.

You have to give them credit for taking such pains to keep their relationship a secret. Since last week at the latest, they can no longer pull the wool over our eyes, even though they have both vehemently denied that they are together.

As two such well-known members of the wizarding community, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are the new power couple - Dramione for short.

~ ~

It was even worse than Hermione expected. They had their own special edition. They had their own couple’s name. 

Dramione.

How had Skeeter gotten enough material to fill a whole magazine in just a week? There seemed to be background stories about their relationship so far, Skeeter back with the enemies-to-lovers theme, as well as interviews with friends of the couple .

The cover showed her and Malfoy walking towards the gates of Malfoy Manor. He had escorted her to the apparition point like a true gentleman and they had chatted about trivial things. Merlin, she was even waving at him goodbye as he smiled at her in the photograph!

And how in the name of Godric Gryffindor had Skeeter managed to shoot photos of them sitting outside having tea? The Malfoy’s surely had security charms set around their property so nobody could enter except through the front gate.

Hermione had not even finished reading the magazine when the first howlers arrived, beginning with one from Ron.

Chapter Text

“MALFOY? YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS, HERMIONE! OUT OF ALL THE GUYS YOU COULD BE GOING FOR?! MALFOY ?!”

A gut-wrenching sob.

“I really wanted to believe Harry when he said that it was all fake and thought up by Skeeter.”

A shuddering breath.

“He told me not to speak to you about it because you would get angry.”

A long sigh.

“I feel like such a fool, like the last one to know. It hurt seeing you have tea with the ferret and his mother.” The last bit was barely audible, the howler already starting to light up in flames.

A puff of smoke and Ron’s message was over. The rollercoaster ride of emotions that Hermione felt during his message proved to her just how wrong she had been when she had accused him of having the emotional range of a teaspoon. Sure, she was disappointed that it only took a second article, technically a whole special edition, to make one of her longest and best friends believe that lie. Then again, Hermione felt horrible for having hurt Ron like this. It was so hard to keep in touch with him after they had broken up and he had moved to Ireland to open a new branch of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes . If Hermione thought finding out that her and Malfoy’s rumoured relationship was enough to fill a whole magazine was hitting a new low, Ron’s howler hit her down another notch.

It took a long fire-call with Ron to straighten everything out between them. In the end, Hermione felt so exhausted that she did not open her store as Harry had suggested.

For the rest of the week, however, Hermione pulled herself together and went about her business as usual. The reporters, howlers, and both fans and antis got on her nerves, but it was bearable.

In the weeks that followed, the rumours surrounding their relationship calmed somewhat, though of course, Witch Weekly complained briefly that she and Malfoy were just keeping a low profile to try and fool the public again. Malfoy’s birthday came and went and despite Witch Weekly rehashing the whole ‘pure-bloods do not stay unmarried long after their twenty-fifth birthday’ thing, it was not as bad.

Howlers reached Hermione less and less and she was ready for normality to return to her daily life. All the turmoil had cost her some of her most loyal customers.

It was Friday evening just before closing time when she heard her doorbell ring and came out of her backroom slightly annoyed, where she was just finishing the preparations for Saturday. At the sight of Malfoy, she froze and blinked, hoping that she had only imagined him. To her sorrow, he was in her store.

“What are you doing here?” At her gruff question, he raised his arms as a sign of peace.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” He carefully stepped closer to her like she was a feral animal that could lash out any time.

“You promised not to come here again,” Hermione hissed in protest and scanned the street for photographers through the windows.

“Relax. I made sure no reporters are around. There have been less and less around your store for the last couple of days.” He tried to calm her down but all Hermione understood was that he had watched her.

“Have you been monitoring my store?”

“I can just waltz in here next time and let the reporters have a go with it if that’s what you want.” Malfoy rolled his eyes dramatically. “And, no, I have not monitored your store. I happen to come through here often as it’s the best connection to Muggle London for my meetings.” Hermione must have heard Malfoy wrong. That, or he had said he had meetings in Muggle London, of all places.

It was so absurd a thought that Hermione’s mouth dropped open. “Muggle London?” At her apparent disbelief, Malfoy snorted and leaned casually against her counter.

“Believe it or not, Granger, it isn’t some affair with a non-pure-blood witch my mother supports me in, but my venture to introduce Muggle medicine and ingredients into the market.” Her mouth shut with an audible clack and Hermione felt ashamed of herself. Her misconceptions about Malfoy had led her to completely misjudge him. What Malfoy had just confided in her sounded wonderful and was something she herself had long considered meaningful. Muggle medicine had a lot to offer to the wizarding world. Lavender and Parvati could certainly tell you a thing or two about how backward Hermione thought wizarding oral hygiene was, so often had she tried to convince them to use Muggle toothpaste. That Malfoy, of all people, dared to take this groundbreaking step was truly remarkable. Hermione did not even want to think about the effort he must have put in to accomplish this. With a newfound respect for the wizard in front of her, and still slightly perplexed by the revelation, Hermione gave him a genuine smile.

“That sounds great, Malfoy.” A brief positive remark from her and she saw him unclench his jaw, his shoulders relax, and his tension fall away.

“If I have my way, that will be the only thing the newspapers report about me.” He pushed off her counter and stepped closer to her.

“Anyways. That’s not what I am here for.” Unlatching his satchel bag, he pulled a wrapped package from it and held it out to her.

“Think of it as a kind of compensation for the trouble I caused you.” The gesture and his admittance to having caused all of this caught Hermione off guard. She had not taken him for the apologetic type. The wrapping paper was simple but neatly folded. She wondered if Malfoy had wrapped it himself. It was the first edition of Hogwarts: A History she had read in his library. Never had she received anything this valuable before. Yet, it was not the monetary value that made her heart beat faster, but all the fond memories she had of discovering the wizarding world with this book. Hermione wanted nothing more than to apparate home immediately and reread her favourite book.

It broke her heart when she pushed the book back at Malfoy. “I can’t accept this.”

“Don’t sweat it, the Malfoy library can do with just a second edition or two.” He gave her a nonchalant smile and offered her the book again.

“No, that’s not what I mean. You can’t just come in here and give me a present. Do you even know what that looks like? You might as well go ahead and propose to me for all they care.” Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

“Fine. Have it your way.” To Hermione's great horror, Malfoy knelt down in front of her and held the book out to her like a ring box.

“Hermione Jean Granger, will you do me the honour of accepting this gift for all the sorrows I have caused you?” Redness shot into Hermione's cheeks in the face of his audacity. This was no joke to her. For Salazar’s sake, they should have been unobserved at Malfoy Manor and had been photographed. Hermione snatched the book out of his hand.

“Out! Out, Malfoy! Out of my store!” At her outburst, Malfoy merely laughed and walked leisurely to her door.

Before the door closed behind him, he threw over his shoulder, "I told you there were no reporters around. No need to panic."

The following Monday would show Hermione just how wrong he was.

~ Witch Weekly Issue 22/2005 ~

The Ways into a Witch’s Heart

The ways into a witch’s heart are plenty and just as diverse as the witch herself. While some prefer being wooed with expensive jewellery, artisan confectionery, elaborate holidays, or grand shows of affection, Ms Hermione Granger seems to prefer books.

Just this weekend, Draco Malfoy was seen surprising his beloved with a book. He chose closing time for this venture so that he could find Ms Granger alone in her store. Although his choice had caused a minor lovers’ quarrel that ended in Ms Granger kicking him out of her store, he had not stopped laughing.

Now you, Dear Readers, may ask what is so special about a little attention between lovers that warrants a whole article. You are quite right in assuming that although it was a first edition, the gift was not worth mentioning. It was the handing over that was special. Mr Malfoy did not simply hand the book to his chosen lover. No! He went down on one knee as if proposing to her. This little joke, however, seemed to have gone down less well with Ms Granger.

Was this perhaps only a trial run for the real proposal?

~ ~

It was time to send a howler of her own. How had Malfoy managed in one go to apologise for the inconvenience and at the same time make their situation even worse than before?

Chapter Text

Malfoy’s response to her howler and the renewed rumours that he and Hermione were soon to be engaged was radio silence. He no longer accompanied his mother, even to public events. For weeks he disappeared from the face of the earth until his face was not on the cover of Witch Weekly but the front page of the Daily Prophet .

~ Daily Prophet – Thursday, 6 July 2005 ~

The Beginning of a New Era

The revolutionary joint venture between Malfoy Industries and the Royal Pharmaceutical Association heralds a new era. In collaboration with Muggle specialists, Draco Malfoy hopes to drastically expand the range of healing methods and make them more accessible. A testing facility for the use of non-magical ingredients and substances to enrich ointments and potions is already under construction. Especially considering Mr Malfoy's background as a pure-blood, this represents a considerable step in opening up the market for Muggle goods.

When we asked him if he was worried about dissenting voices concerned about his past as a Death Eater, Mr Malfoy confidently replied, "Even the smartest witch of her generation said it was a good idea. My involvement alone in this will not make it a bad venture."

Mr Malfoy is confident that initial doubts can quickly be proven wrong with the quality and efficacy of the products.

Should this venture gain a foothold in the wizarding world, which Mr Malfoy is convinced of, an exchange between St. Mungo's healers and Muggle doctors is planned as well.

~ ~

Hermione still thought it was quite a fantastic idea and hoped Malfoy was right and it was successful. However, the fact that he had not mentioned her by name, but had alluded to her, made her anger boil up. What kind of game was he playing? Was he trying to exploit the rumours about their relationship to advertise his project?

She was still furious when she met up with Ginny to shop for some baby clothes and other necessities she would soon need. Six months pregnant, Ginny was already showing quite a bit. The ultrasound picture that Harry and Ginny had gotten for Arthur, who had always wondered about that kind of Muggle technology, was already showing a well developed fetus. They were expecting a little baby boy.

“You okay?” Her agitation was not lost on Ginny, a hand resting caringly on her shoulder.

“Just Malfoy again.” The wicked grin spread on Ginny’s lips made no sense to Hermione and she frowned.

“You think it’s funny?”

Before Hermione could scold her friend for not taking her side, Ginny grabbed her by both shoulders.

“Quite. He is playing games with you, but he has so much more to lose and now it’s your turn.”

Not understanding what her friend implied, Hermione shook her head questioningly.

“You want Mafloy to finally step up and end these rumours, right?”

“Of course.” Hermione had practically talked about nothing else since this whole ordeal had started.

“I guarantee you Malfoy only wants gossip about you two of a certain kind because depending on how this ends, it might make him look bad. Really bad.”

What Ginny said made perfect sense, yet despite Hermione wanting the rumours to stop, she did not want to make Malfoy seem like a bad guy. 

Although he had been the reason she had lost some customers, there were some Hermione would not mourn. She had been horrified when an elderly witch had come up to her and ranted that a Death Eater like Malfoy would be best off rotting away in Azkaban. If a nice lady could still harbour such prejudices against Malfoy even years after the war, what would some others say about him? 

No, making Malfoy look bad out of spite was the last thing she wanted to do. He may have his faults, but Malfoy was not a bad person and if Hermione was honest with herself, she had to admit that in his absence she had often thought how strangely empty her store was without his silent presence in his secluded corner. Hermione would never let him know that she had come to think of that particular armchair as Malfoy's armchair, though. Merlin knew how inflated his ego already was.

“I… I don’t know, Ginny.” Her friend slowly let her fingers glide from her shoulders down to her hands and grasped them in hers.

“I don’t want to tell you to do something to ruin his reputation, ‘Mione. But! There are things you can do and easily clear up later and make it out to be a misunderstanding.” Ginny’s eyes gleamed with mischief like she already had something in mind.

“Any suggestions?” Although Hermione knew that Ginny would have blurted out her idea straight away anyway, she wanted to play along.

“ Yessss ,” Ginny answered with a gleeful hiss, drawing out the s.

“And we are at just the right place to set it in motion.” She happily opened the door to the small baby boutique, grinning widely. Taking Hermione’s hand, Ginny pulled her to a revolving clothes rack.

“All you have to do is help me shop for some baby clothes and touch your belly from time to time.” Astounded at the wicked mind of her friend, Hermione’s mouth fell open.

“Ginny!”

“What? When the going gets tough, you can claim you had a stomachache or your period.” A quick shrug of the shoulders and the subject was done for Ginny and she devoted herself entirely to the cute baby rompers on the clothes rack.

Just then Hermione noticed that they were positioned visibly through the display window. Ginny Potter was an evil mastermind and Hermione would be damned if she ever crossed the woman.

Even though it made Hermione's stomach ache at first to throw a pregnancy into the bubbling pot of rumours about her and Malfoy, she quickly gained pleasure from casually stroking her belly again and again. In the end, she even got a kick out of smiling and showing Ginny a Slytherin green romper. Even if no reporter was shadowing her, she had spent an enjoyable afternoon with Ginny.

Witch Weekly did not disappoint.

~ Witch Weekly Issue 28/2005 ~

Heir on the Way?

Just a few months have passed since the relationship between Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger became public. While we are all eagerly waiting for Mr Malfoy to put a ring on Ms Granger's finger, there seem to be far more interesting developments. Ms Granger was seen shopping for baby clothes with Ginny Potter in a small boutique on Thursday. Now, of course, we all know that the Potters are expecting their first offspring, but could there also soon be a successor to the Malfoy legacy? The constant caresses Ms Granger gave her belly during the whole shopping spree suggest just that.

Now it is high time, Mr Malfoy, that you finally make an honest woman out of Ms Granger.

~ ~

None of Skeeter's lurid tall tales had given Hermione as much pleasure as this one. It was now up to Malfoy to finally show more commitment in fighting the rumours.

Chapter Text

Hermione did not have to wait long for Malfoy's visit to her bookstore. After the eternal radio silence, he rushed into the shop like a storm just as there was a lull and dragged her by the elbow into the backroom. Once inside, the door banged shut behind her with a swish of his wand. Eyes like storm clouds met her as he whirled around to face her, anger written all over his face. His hands banged flat against the wall left and right next to Hermione’s head. He cornered her, pressing into her personal space.

“That wasn’t funny, Granger.” His breath blew the hair on her forehead and a shiver ran through her. Hermione had to suppress a gasp and forced herself to look him in the eye. That Malfoy would be livid with her after fuelling the rumour mill, Hermione had seen coming, but that he would invade her personal space like that came as a surprise. Still, Malfoy was all bark and no bite. He could put on a great show of aggression, but she knew he would never hurt her.

“Oh, really? Like the little stunt you pulled helped to improve our situation?!” Since putting Ginny's advice into action, Hermione had been playing out all the possible courses of this conversation in her head, and so had a good counter at the ready.

“Anything I did, did not get my mother to believe it.” Hermione scoffed in disbelief, Malfoy had to be joking. She could not believe that Narcissa Malfoy believed even one word of Witch Weekly to be true.

“Oh, so when it’s inconvenient for you it’s no longer funny? She can’t possibly believe that, Malfoy. Your mother will see it as the nonsense it is. It will blow over. Also, one word from me and it will be revealed as one big misunderstanding.” Hermione was sure to make it as taunting as possible. And if one word from her was not enough to convince the blasted magazine the absence of a baby a couple months later would have to do.

She herself had pulled out all the stops to clear up the rumours, but without much success. Now it was up to Malfoy to do what he could. If she was lucky, he would finally get serious about the problem. If not, Hermione would make sure he realised very quickly that the disadvantages of the rumours outweighed the advantages for his business.

“Careful, Granger. Two can play this game.” Hermione had already considered the possibility that he might choose the path of most resistance. She had come to the conclusion that Ginny was right and that the consequences of a failure of their relationship were far worse for him than for her. He would not last long under any circumstances.

“You should up your game then, Malfoy.” Hermione pushed up on her tiptoes, their noses almost touching. Recklessness coursed through her veins. All the annoyances she had had to endure were letting her forget for one moment that this was not what she wanted. Godric, she wanted to push Malfoy’s buttons, all of them, to see him squirm for once.

If Malfoy was as smart as she thought him to be, he would come to the same conclusion as her. Deciding to continue this petty war would be his downfall sooner or later and the longer it went on, the worse it would make him look in the end. Thus, the smart move would be to end the rumours right away.

Even if Malfoy was driven by emotions about this, and his flaring nostrils made her realize that he actually might be, he would seek to land a blow on her while keeping it beneficial for himself. He might be able to land some blows, but Hermione could wait it out.

No matter the scenario she could take it and in the end, it would come to the same result: Malfoy would have to put the rumours to rest once and for all.

She dealt her killing blow in a low whisper. “You realize all the reporters know you’ve pulled me into the backroom to snog me senseless.” She felt his exhale puff against her lips  - his eyes widened at her bold statement.

Just as stormily as he arrived, he also left and Hermione could not help giggling. She had out-Slytherined the Slytherin. Never had doing something so impulsive felt so good.

Whatever his next move, Hermione vowed to keep a clear head and not overreact. She would be calm.

All the scenarios she imagined, however, paled in comparison to what Malfoy did.

~ Witch Weekly Issue 29/2005 ~

Proposal Incoming

Draco Malfoy has had a very busy week and all signs are pointing to a marriage proposal. We hope he didn't plan to surprise his beloved, because the preparations before an engagement in pure-blood circles are just too hard to overlook for this Author not to report on it.

Not only has Mr Malfoy had an extensive appointment at Gringotts Bank and consulted his family lawyer, but he also had a private appointment at the jeweller who made the ring for his mother and grandmother.

Since not all readers are as well versed in the traditions of pure-blood wizards, we will explain the significance of these events.

Before a possible union, it has long been customary to provide financial security for financially dependent family members. This became the standard after wives tried to incapacitate their in-laws to gain access to their Gringotts vaults. In Mr Malfoy's case, this would be his mother, Narcissa. Now, no one here wants to accuse Ms Granger of only being after the Malfoy gold. Nevertheless, many prefer to rather be safe than sorry. Of course, this could have happened to guarantee his mother's approval.

Even though the formalities of marriage are relatively simple nowadays, pure-bloods still prefer a marriage contract to regulate various aspects of married life and also to specify a course of action in the very unlikely event of divorce. Not many present-day lawyers are familiar with the intricacies and pitfalls of such highly complex contracts.  A visit to the family lawyer will have been the right choice for Mr Malfoy.

Visiting the jeweller is a Malfoy tradition. Unlike in other pure-blood families, a family heirloom is not used as an engagement ring. A unique piece is made especially for the bride-to-be. It is said that the Malfoy men adore their wives so much that each of them deserves a ring made especially for them by goblins. Each ring is worth a small fortune.

 So you see, Dear Readers, things are getting serious.

~ ~

One! Hermione had done merely one thing. Just the tiniest hint of a pregnancy. And here Malfoy went and dealt her a triple blow. Just when Hermione thought that she was prepared for anything, Malfoy proved her wrong.

For a long time, Hermione sat at her kitchen table, resting her head in her hands, regretting ever having challenged Malfoy. Her coffee was getting cold and her cereal soggy. A light tapping on her kitchen window startled her out of her despair: an eagle owl was asking for entrance.

The message the owl delivered was short and to the point.

Granger,

Malfoy Manor, today 12 p.m.

We need to talk.

DM

Indeed they did. Hermione did not even know where to begin. Maybe, like in third year, a slap to the face would serve as a great conversation starter.

Chapter Text

At 12 o'clock sharp, Hermione apparated to the gate of Malfoy Manor. She had spent the whole morning angrily pacing her flat. Any thought of how she would make Malfoy's life a living hell and tear him into a thousand tiny pieces vanished when she saw him standing there waiting for her. He looked dejected and determined at the same time. When she entered, he took a step back as if in front of a wild, unpredictable animal that might lash out at any time. Raising his hands as a sign of peace, he immediately said, "Please listen to what I have to say.” This oddly reminded her of his first attempt to make amends. Merlin forbid, this attempt ended like the first one. She gave him an angry look before walking past him towards the manor without so much as a word of greeting.

Malfoy escorted her to his study, where he gestured for her to sit down. He looked tense as he handed her a document across the desk. It read Clarification .

"What I did last week was a mistake, I know that. After the pregnancy scare, I let my anger get the best of me. However, a childish, petty war will not help either of us." He sighed deeply and rubbed his tired eyes.

"I have prepared a letter to Witch Weekly to clear up the series of misunderstandings that are causing us such headaches. Before I send it, I want your permission."

The letter included a complete timeline of published articles about him with corresponding explanations. Both Pansy and his mother had never talked about relationships, but about his business. He explained his intrusion into the backroom by saying that he wanted to leave the shop unnoticed so he could attend an appointment in Muggle London on time and unobserved. Up to this point, Hermione had to assume that it was true. What followed, however, was a lie. He justified her visit to Malfoy Manor by saying that, as the daughter of two dentists, he had asked her for advice. It was a good lie and certainly more believable to Witch Weekly than the real reason. Denials were all too readily presented as feints by the magazine.

His actions over the past week were all connected to his business. At Gringotts, he had discussed further investment steps for possible expansion and accordingly diverted income from other parts of Malfoy Industries to the new venture. He had instructed the family lawyer to take a closer look at the Statute of Secrecy, in case magical products should also be offered in Muggle pharmacies. Even the visit to the jeweller was purely business. The jeweller in question not only had contacts with goblins for making the finest magical artefacts, but also offered simpler things. Malfoy had commissioned a design for the wax seal of his new company and was there to approve it.

Having finished reading his clarification, Hermione looked up at him. His fingers lightly drummed on the surface of his desk in anticipation of her judgement.

"I assume my visit today was also to discuss Muggle oral hygiene?" His shoulders relaxed and he smirked.

"Any comments or additions?" Hermione shook her head and handed the document back to him. He had done a really good job. She especially liked the last paragraph. In it, he had made it clear in flowery but unmistakable words that he would devote himself entirely to his business and that further unfounded rumours would result in a lawsuit.

After Malfoy had attached the letter to his eagle owl's leg and it disappeared into the vastness of the blue sky, Hermione stood up, offering Malfoy her hand.

"I guess that's it, then. A pleasure doing business with you, Mr Malfoy." Her little reference to his lie about her visit brought a smile to his lips. Malfoy slowly stood up and took her outstretched hand.

"You have quite wonderful teeth, by the way." This comment elicited a laugh, making his white teeth gleam. She had never seen him so at ease. So much had changed about him since he first sought shelter in her store a couple of months ago. While he still looked down upon her - he was quite taller than her, after all - Malfoy no longer had that derogatory look in his eyes. It was replaced with a kind of keen interest as if she was a riddle he wanted to solve, a challenge he would like to take on.

Instead of letting go after their handshake, he continued to hold her hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

"Have lunch with me." Even though it was not phrased as a question, Hermione clearly heard his hope that she would not refuse it. He looked at her so seriously that she found it hard to refuse. She remembered the afternoon tea with his mother and how pleasant he had been, how she had wondered what a friendship with Malfoy might look like. Like he had done before, she returned the squeeze to his hand briefly and answered with "Okay.”

In the dining room, the table was already set for two, which clearly indicated that Malfoy had planned this. What else did he want to talk to her about after he had sent off the clarification? Did he really want to talk to her about dental care? Hardly. 

He pulled out the chair for her, a true pure-blood gentleman. As soon as Malfoy sat down, their glasses filled with wine and a plate of soup appeared in front of her. It smelled wonderful. They spent the first course in agreeable silence while Hermione tried to guess what else he wanted to talk to her about. While outwardly looking composed, Malfoy did not seem as at ease as he usually did. She caught him time and again sneaking glances at her when he thought she was not looking. Malfoy was behaving weirdly. Multiple times he took in a breath like one did before saying something, but nothing came. What was he so nervous about?

When the empty soup plates disappeared and were replaced by roast with potatoes and carrots, he finally broke the silence.

"Hopefully, after the clarification is published, the reporters will finally let us go."

"I don't think you've given them much choice." She smirked. A lopsided smile settled on his lips and his eyes twinkled with amusement.

" We 'll have more privacy again." The way he said we made another meaning resonate. Not we in the sense of both being separate from each other, but we in the sense of being together.

"Yes...." Unsure if she had just imagined it, Hermione did not quite know what to say.

"Even though the articles were far-fetched, they made me think. About this." He pointed back and forth between them. "About us ." Hermione took a healthy swig of her wine. So she had not imagined it. Nervous about what he was alluding to, she pushed the carrots around on her plate. 

"We'd be a good match." Hermione snorted. Had anyone told her just some years ago that Malfoy could possibly think of them as a good match, she would have gotten them admitted to the psych ward of St. Mungo’s immediately.

“Good? Do you mean beneficial, Malfoy? You with the money and me with the sodding Order of Merlin? At least, that is what I remember from the article.”

With the reminder of the article, Malfoy took a generous sip of his wine.

"No. I don't need you to polish up the Malfoy image. I will do that myself. And I think you'll do just fine without my money. There would be plenty of people lining up to give money to whatever cause bears your name. What I mean is, that despite our past differences, we fit together."

"Don't be ridiculous! As if you're interested in me."

"Interested enough to have lunch with you. Interested enough to want to go out with you to see where it leads." He was dead serious. The determination in his eyes made her reach for her wine. A little liquid courage could do no harm. In her mind Hermione replayed all her encounters with Malfoy. Could she have seen this coming? When had he changed his mind? 

"This isn't a date." Malfoy could not get the wrong idea about their lunch together.

"No, it isn't. This is a negotiation.” Hermione was speechless. 

“Tell me your terms for dating me and I will meet them." Malfoy left no doubt of his seriousness about this date. For him it was just a matter of when and not if . She swallowed hard, captured in his gaze, unable to look away. Was this Malfoy trying to be considerate? Merlin, he had said that he was interested, but also willing to comply with any demands she had made it all the more real. Draco Malfoy wanted to date her. 

"No dates in public. Once in the tabloids was enough for me." The words left her mouth before she even realized what she had said. She could not believe she was actually going for it.

"Dates? As in multiple? Good to know. What else?" Hermione could have slapped herself. It had only been a slip of the tongue, but it had made Malfoy so smug. Worse, it might have been a Freudian slip as her brain was already trying to figure out how to best date Malfoy in private.

"No date in wizarding London.” Hermione tried to correct her slip from before. 

“Nice try, Granger, but I won’t let you back out of those dates. I insist.” Malfoy shot her his charming smile and winked at her. Heat crept into her cheeks as Hermione quickly averted her eyes. The stem of her wine glass had become very interesting to her as she could not find the courage to look up at him again. The silence indicated that he was waiting for more terms from her so she wrestled with her brain for ideas.

“A Muggle restaurant would be good. We won't be recognised there." There was a little Italian place she liked. If he said no to that, she already had a few alternatives ready.

"Your choice, then. Just tell me the day and time and I'll book a table. What else?" She almost asked him if he could really manage that, but then she remembered that he had also managed to bring Muggle products into the wizarding world.

"We should stop calling each other by our last names." The test run for first names they had during the afternoon tea had been quite enjoyable. Also, Hermione could not picture them still walking around calling each other Malfoy and Granger when… if they started dating… no, not dating, giving this a try.

"Whatever you wish, Hermione ." The way he purred her name made Hermione blush. It was bordering on erotic. Any other demands she had thought to reply left her mind to refocus on the way he had said her name just now over and over again. Why was she suddenly so embarrassed? Were those butterflies in her stomach?

"All right, Draco ." If he was affected by her calling him by his first name again, Malfoy did not show it.

"So it's settled." He raised his glass to toast her.

"To making the articles come true." That was a little too enthusiastic for Hermione after all.

"I won't marry you."

"Not yet." Malfoy had a fit of laughter, so funny did he find his retort. Hermione did not find it particularly funny and glared at him. Why did he have to be so quick-witted?

"I'm sure our child will be as smart as a whip," he said while wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.

"I'll dress it completely in red and gold." Hermione hoped that would make him stop laughing, but he just smirked.

"Then we'll just make a second one, so we can each have one for ourselves. My mother will be delighted." Even though it should shock her that Malfoy could imagine having a child with her, multiple even, Hermione could not stop herself from giggling as well.

With a roll of her eyes, she announced, "Well, we’re off to a good start."

Just like they had planned, Witch Weekly rectified the situation and, even better, drew attention to another wizard for witches to swoon over.

~ Witch Weekly Issue 30/2005 ~

The Last in His Line?

It is with a heavy heart that this Author has to deliver bad news. As it seems, and as Mr Malfoy has assured us with strong evidence, there is no relationship between him and Ms Granger. According to his clarification, he had merely called her for advice on Muggle oral hygiene.

What complicates matters further, however, is that according to his letter, Mr Malfoy will be devoting himself entirely to business for years to come.

Entirely!

For years!

It even read as if he had completely dismissed the idea of marriage and family planning. Does the last heir to the Malfoy line want it to end with him?

With this general lack of interest, the honourable Readers should probably turn their attention to the number two most eligible bachelor, Mr Blaise Zabini.

~ ~